No wargs came, nor human Forian soldiers; the end of the wargs, and our people’s plight, had ended as a secret drama enacted behind a curtain. One day I was sure I would receive a letter from Radomil, demanding to know why the bloodroses of the vampires were growing on his territory, but it could be many years before anyone came to this blighted corner of Foria where the wargs had held sway. This was dead land now, a cursed territory.

My legions moved quickly, desperate to leave the brambles behind. Every knight was disturbed by them, and Wyn and Andrus alone seemed fascinated by the things.

My brother had turned back to gaze at them as we marched towards the mountains.

“It’s not the answer,” I told him.

He was burning his fingertips again, rubbing his thumb on the pendant. His silver eyes were distant. “Don’t fear, Bane. I have many years left in me.”

But I was sure he’d marked the location in his mind, hoarding the knowledge for later; for a day when he gave up on his quest for salvation and chose a bloody penitence.

I wanted to tell him that giving himself up to the thorns would not erase his deeds. They would not wash him clean.

But that was something he needed to come to terms with on his own. I had learned that myself.

It was only a day later, as the legions marched upwards on the mountain trail and the horses pulled the wagons behind them, that Andrus gave one last look to the north, and bowed his head to me.

“I part from you here,” he said. “And I wish you both nothing but happiness.”

I embraced him, and we walked down to the last wagon, where I’d piled pillows and blankets and tucked Cirri into the nest.

Leaving us already? She asked, and I translated her words for him. Her fingers were shiny, greasy with a balm Wyn had given her; in the boredom of being carted home, she was massaging her knuckles and tendons, exercising her fingers’ movements. They grew more limber by the day.

“Someone must spread the news across Veladar.” Andrus smiled at her. “Cirrien the Wargbinder. Now families will sleep easily, at peace in the knowledge that the time of the wolves is over.”

She stared up at him, and flushed a deep red. That’s… a bit much for someone like me. 

Andrus laughed when I translated. “We all earned our names,” he told her. “Now you’ve earned yours. I’ll see you again one day, my lady, but home calls. The Mother smiles on you.”

He bowed to her, and she raised a hand in farewell. Andrus slipped off on his own, scaling the mountains far more quickly than the legions could.

Voryan had slipped off the night before without a word of goodbye to anyone, as he usually did. Only Wyn was irritated at his manners, but the Lord of the Moor had never given much of a damn for etiquette or receiving thanks, and he clearly wasn’t going to start now.

I was grateful, nonetheless, that he’d joined us.

Wroth remained, having vowed to see us to Ravenscry before he returned home.

“It’s a respite,” he grumbled. He often walked near Cirri’s wagon, close enough that it was obvious he was watching over her, just far away enough to maintain plausible deniability.

It took over a day to cross the mountains; we could have cut the time in half by taking the route under the mountains, but I took Visca, Wyn, and Wroth aside, telling them of what I’d scented while tracking my woman.

No one was happy about it; we all agreed that with the wargs gone, it would soon be time to cast our eyes downward once more, and continue what we’d begun when our kind first went Below.

But not now, at this very moment. The Fae-things below would wait, and it was unanimously decided that no one was to take the under-mountain route again.

When the wagon finally descended onto Rift soil and the ground leveled out, I helped Cirri out of the wagon. She had healed enough to walk and stretch her legs again. Two of the legions broke off and headed south, delivering the news to every village and town in the Rift.

Ravenscry was quiet when we arrived outside the gates. I looked up at them, remembering how fractured I had felt when I last left… and now I felt that I was returning whole.

Cirri leaned on my arm as the guards opened the gates, her eyes fixed on the towers.

The first time I ever came here… I was terrified. I felt like I was in a fairy tale, but the kind where everyone gets eaten in the end. She looked up at me ruefully, then sighed. And now it’s home. I never expected that. At times I still don’t feel that I deserve it.

“Deserving has nothing to do with it. It’s yours, and you’ll stay by me for an eternity, of course. As the Lord of the Rift, I demand it.”

Of course, she said, glancing at me sidelong under her lashes. And the Lady gets no say?

“The Lady won’t want to argue with my decrees, because she’s going to be very, very busy as my new Scrollkeeper.”

Cirri went still. I thought… I would only be working on the translations. I thought perhaps you wanted to find someone else…

“Who else?” I asked, pulling her aside. I led under a vast pine, into a clearing where the mist hid us from view. “Who else has made the effort to become fluent in six languages? Who else deciphered enough of the High Tongue to use a charm that old?”

She stared up at me, face pale, hands knotted at her sides.

“Who else?” I asked again. “There is no one else. I’m not giving you the position, Cirri. You earned it yourself.”

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and closed her eyes for a moment.

That was everything I worked for, she said. That’s my dream. After we married, and I thought the Silver Library was lost to me… I didn’t want to exist just to be a figurehead. I need to do something with my life.

“You will. You’ve done a great thing, and you’ll do more. And I know you’ll do it credit.” I held her, and she melted against me, hiding her face. I felt the heat of tears on my chest, but she wiped them away, smiling. “Now, let me hear you say it.”

Cirri looked up, eyes wide.

“That you earned it,” I clarified.

She swallowed, and raised her hands. I earned it. 

The first movements were tentative, and then she raised her chin, eyes flashing. I did. I earned it myself. And I will make something of it.

“You did,” I murmured, stroking her hair. “Never believe otherwise.”

It’s going to take centuries to study it all, she said, laughing. I want to start now.

“My lovely one, I know you eat, sleep, and breathe books, but no. I don’t think you’ll die if you have to wait until tomorrow.”

Yes, I will, she said, still grinning, but the smile fell away by degrees, and she became serious. Bane, there’s things I need to look at. Things I need to research. The reason the wargs came back, and why… why fiends are like them. I had a theory, and I’ve vindicated it, I believe, but I need to look for myself. 

“What theory is this?” I asked, frowning.

She gazed up at me, chewing her lower lip, and finally raised her hands.

I’ll tell you when I’m sure. If I’m to be the Scrollkeeper, I can’t come to you with conjecture and blind faith. I must come to you with irreproachable proof. 

I was taken aback for a moment, the selfish part of me wanting to demand what she thought, but she was not a girl, or a servant. She had earned her title and position for herself, and I would bow to her greater knowledge.

“Of course, Cirri.” I kissed her briefly, and gave her a wicked smile. “Lady Wargbinder.”

Oh, do not, she said, flapping her hands at me to drive the words away with disgust. A new flush had touched her cheekbones, painting them pink. I did it on a wing and a prayer. I could just as easily have died and taken all of you with me.