The satellite office smelled of fresh ink laid over wood that had once held sacks instead of paper. Demis stood by the long table with three folded packets in both hands while the chief clerk, Marius von der Feder, pointed with a trimmed quill toward the far side of the room. Marius wore a dark blue coat with ink at one cuff and a brown wool vest fastened all the way up. His face was bony and close-shaved, with a narrow chin, a crease between the brows, and tired eyes set deep under them."Listen properly," he said, the Kanzlei inflection clipped and clear. He lifted the first packet and touched its seal. "This one goes to the market registry on the Northern Market." He pointed toward the left-hand wall, as if Demis could see the streets through the stone."Put it in the iron tray if Clerk Senver is at his desk. If he is not, you wait until he comes back or hand it to the woman with the red cords on her sleeve, no one else." He set that one aside, straightened the second packet against the table with two quick taps, and nudged it toward Demis."This one goes to the ward tally office by South Well. Give it to the front desk and bring back the stamped receipt." His eyes lifted to Demis’s face. "Do not leave without it." He gathered the last packet, ran a thumb along its folded edge, then pointed with the quill toward the door. "The last goes to the gate levy room near the fish square. That one goes into Recorder Hale’s hand if he is there. If he is not, you ask for the duty scribe and say it is from Press Office satellite." He tapped the top packet once. "Repeat it."Demis did, word for word. Marius’s eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. When he saw that Marius didn’t have anything left to say, he bid farewell."I'm off now, Master Marius," Demis sniffed and ran. Demis drove the same feeling he used to abate the pain when he was being beaten into his ears, just to hear what Marius said when he was some distance away."Press (...)