Page 216 of A Vow of Blood and Tears

Wroth scoffed, finally leaning forward. “It’s very simple. The Scrollkeeper translates the book in full, and makes copies. Each keep possesses its own copy, protected against any threat—including the humans living in the keeps. If someone is untrustworthy, they must not have access to the translated binding charm. That could be turned against us. I know my own wife would not hesitate to find someone who would cry tears of love for the sake of killing me.”

“Agreed,” I rumbled, breaking off from my silence. “It’s a danger to us as well.”

Then the binding charm will remain separate from the whole, but protected, Cirri said.We can keep it from the wrong hands, but it must be accessible to the Four Lords, and their trusted vassals, in the event that a warg survives and returns.

Wroth added,“As for our provenance, Auré can speak to her little circle of artisans, writers, and thespians. Bit by bit, they could leak the knowledge into the commons. In a hundred years or so, humans will be well aware of our beginnings, with nothing left to hide.”

Cirri gave him a brilliant smile, and Wroth grumbled under his breath, ears twitching as he looked away.

The bloodwitch scratched her nose with the tip of her pen. “It could work, I suppose. Fel Marchand’s already got humanwomen slavering at the blood shops for vampire swains… I suppose if anyone could make our vulgar inception palatable, it’s her.”

“And if the Rift-kin are still jumping at ghosts in a hundred years, we’ve failed anyway,” Visca added, her face gloomy at the prospect. “Fine. I’m in agreement.”

So, I’ll finish the translation and make the copies, Cirri said.That’s the most important thing, that we don’t lose what you’ve regained.

Visca leveled a glance at her, lips quirked. “That’s one way of putting it. Pleased as I am with the charm, it’ll take me some time to come terms with being… related to the things we saw Below.”

You’re not, Cirri said, her motions gentle.Maybe in the loosest possible sense, but your kind was created by Mother Blood. You are her perfect creations, and as the histories pointed out, she split from her people and homeland.

Visca merely shook her head. “Maybe so, but my gut says otherwise. Do we even have ancestors? Or do we pray to ghosts as well?”

Cirri licked her lips, uncertainty filling her eyes, but Visca stood and strode swiftly to her, clapping her on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to me whine, lass. I try not to shoot the messenger, but, you know… shit happens.”

Cirri let out a breathy laugh, and Wyn stood, shaking out her robes. “I have too much on my mind to wade into a morass of theological dilemmas.” She sniffed loftily, tucking her notebook in her sleeve. “But I can’t say I like it. It may take more time than we think. Humans won’t be the only ones to struggle with this knowledge.”

Cirri shrugged, lifting her hands.If it takes longer, so be it. I’m only doing this to preserve the truth and recover what was lost.

“And a damn fine job you’ve done thus far,” Visca said cheerfully. “We’ll muddle through together. I’ll give it thought while I whip the legions back into shape. Without those damn dogs, they’re getting fat and lazy.”

Our advisors took their leave, and Wroth stood, stretching luxuriously, but as he settled, he had eyes only for Cirri.

“Well done, Scrollkeeper,” he said quietly. “You give me hope. Send your Silent Brother my way when you’re done with him, Bane. I’d like to be able to hear my little sister’s words for myself.”

“Line his pockets with gold, and he’ll teach you all he knows.” Cirri leaned into me, looking inordinately pleased and embarrassed by Wroth’s words, and she rested her cheek on my chest as my arms encircled her. “Do you leave for the Rivers now?”

Wroth raised his head, sniffing the air. “I have half a mind to extend my absence with… a little hunting trip.”

“The Rivers needs you.” I tried not to squeeze Cirri too tightly, trepidation filling me. “You cannot abdicate without naming an heir, brother.”

“Abdicate?” Wroth scoffed. “And let that conniving whore take Owlhorn? No, never. But when the day comes, Bane, you call me. Whatever is left Below, kin or not, I look forward to driving it out.”

He raised a hand, striding away from us without looking back and scaling the wall easily.

I hoped he would find his way, but doubt still curled within me.

Cirri watched him go, clenching her hands nervously.Below?She asked.

“They’re not quite as dead as we believed, or they’re creeping back in. If I could bring Miro back to life and kill him again, Iwould,” I said, keeping my voice soft. “I smelled them in that mineshaft through the mountain.”

She went pale, her breath catching.I spent that whole journey in fear something would find us. To think one was within arm’s reach…

“Not quite that close. Don’t fear, lover. Visca will need something to do, or she’ll become as neurotic as Wyn. Without wargs to hold her attention, she’d be happy to roust anything Below beyond our borders.”

Cirri nodded, her face still grave, and I leaned down to kiss her.

“Do you trust me?” I asked. “That I would never let them have you.”

The answer was in her eyes, but she said it anyway.With all my heart.

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