At the bottom of the secret staircase, looking out to the jetty with the two little boats on the underground river, while his companions torture a shape changing water serpent a few feet from him, Carradoc considers the choices he has made.
He chased her here, and he feels he helped capture her, but his magic is mostly depleted and he can feel the mascara running down his cheek, smudging the very elegant lines that he had drawn on that morning. he sighed.
His shirt was torn -- that was quickly mended, and the blood would come out easily enough. He wasn't really sure he had the heart for torture, or interrogation, or whatever they thought they were doing, but here he was. No rout the information gleaned would be useful. But getting it wasn't any fun. So he started up the stairs ahead of the others, and joined the conversations about treasure. Treasure, at least, was interesting. Yes, there had been some interrogation here as well. But now they were onto treasure. And someone had found some spells.
Carradoc understood covetousness. He knew what it did to most people, and he knew how he personally avoided it. He understood that his desire for new knowledge, new spells, had nothing to do with covetousness at all. He, for one, was above it. But he would have those scrolls.