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The hatred that had fogged over me cleared with the sound of her screams. Suddenly, I didn’t feel any more righteous anger.

I just felt sick.

“Get out.” Raphael’s voice was low and deadly, then he lifted his chin to address the room. “Everyone, out.” He nudged the corpse, which was already decomposing to sand, with his foot. “And someone take this trash with them.”

I vomited.

Demos forced me out of the room with the rest of them and led me to a back chamber. I didn’t want to see Raphael in this state, but since I’d made a point of going, there was no way I could just leave now.

The room was directly behind the throne room, an office of some kind. Raphael walked in a moment after us. He looked wearier than I’d seen him, but he straightened when he saw me notice.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” A brusque apology.

“Why?” The word made the bitter film of my sick coat my mouth once more. The taste seemed to coat my entire body.

He frowned. “I couldn’t allow that to go unpunished. Not when they tried to manipulate their king, and certainly not when the cost of that was abuse of a youngling.”

I shook my head, my arms crossed tight over my abdomen. The entire room stood between us. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t… I don’t even disagree, really. If what you say is true, then death is certainly deserved. But why give them hope? Why make her be the one to do it? Why draw it out into a spectacle?” My voice rose as I spoke until I was near shouting.

“Becausethisis what they understand.” Raphael didn’t shout back, but his voice boomed through the room. “Thisis what vampires learn from. This is what stops them from doing worse. I stop them, little viper. You might not like what that looks like, but it must be done.”

“This may seem brutal, but it’s not unusual for our culture,” Demos added. “We’re a bloody, brutal people. There’s no use pretending otherwise.”

I swallowed down another argument.

They were violent. Not just violent, but cruel, sadistic. Only controlled by someone stronger, crueler, as Raphael had shown.

“What did you come for?” Raphael asked. Then he turned to Demos. “Whydid you bring her?”

Demos shrugged. Unlike me, to him, the execution was just another day. “She said it was important. For that translation she’s doing.”

The grimoire. The passage I’d finished translating.

This is the book of the necromancer. The witch who alone serves Anagenni, they who control all who have perished. Through the goddess’s will, the necromancer has dominion over bone and blood, soul and spirit. The undead bow to the necromancer. One witch is gifted to the world every two hundred years with Anagenni’s blessing. They alone can right the balance.

The undead bow to the necromancer.

Vampires.The necromancer, if they were real, could control vampires. The one creature that might be able to control them, and the grimoire was the key to their power.

Raphael had to suspect. But if I confirmed it, he might destroy the book.

“I…” I thought as fast as I could—the one strength I had over vampires was I could lie. I needed one Demos wouldn’t call me on. I couldn’t deny I’d come about the translation. “I decided to work from the back since I was having trouble at the front, and I found a spell I thought might be interesting.” The best lies were rooted in truth. When struggling with the first passage, Ihadworked on a few of the spells. “It called for some ingredients, and I thought if we collected them, Amalthea could try to use it. Maybe the magical trace would help her find whoever it belongs to.”

It wouldn’t work, of course. The grimoire wasn’t a simple cookbook anyone could take a page from.

Raphael gave me a long look, as if trying to understand why I’d propose such a stupid idea.

A drop of sweat slid from the back of my neck down my spine.

“Amalthea can’t use the grimoire, unfortunately,” Raphael said.

Demos sighed. “I could have guessed as much. You should have told me that was your important news. I’d have saved you this headache, and you could have trained.”

I resisted the urge to wipe the perspiration from my brow. “My apologies. I’ll keep at it.”

But I wasn’t sorry I missed training.

I wasn’t sorry I’d seen this.