Page 146 of Loreblood

“What can you tell me about it?”

“What do you already know?” she pressed. Her mischievous eyes took on a curious glint as she leaned forward, folding her hands on the tabletop.

“I know it’s begun to sever Garroway’s connection with his master, and he’s started to dream again and have strange instances of staring out the eyes of animals.”

“Beast-charming,” Keffa said.

“I also know once Skartovius Ashfen tasted my blood for the first time tonight, he immediately turned into a lunatic torturer.”

“Your blood didn’t do that, child. Lord Ashfen has always been a lunatic torturer.”

I clenched my jaw and rubbed the back of my neck. “I suppose I don’t know him well enough—”

“You’d be a fool for thinking you did.”

“I’m worried about what I saw.”

“It sounds drastic, Sephania.”

My fingers drummed on the table as I sought a means of escaping the subject of Skartovius. That wasn’t why I had come here, and Keffa knew it. “What can you tell me about the Relic, Iron Sister?”

“Only where to find it. In the few tomes I have, the only one mentioning it speaks of the Relic in conjunction with the Loreblood. A tool, or puzzle, or treasure map, for all I know. You could call it a gut instinct I have, that it will enlighten you about your blood.”

Her words swirled around in my head. They vexed me. I didn’t snap because Keffa was not to blame—she was only trying to help, far as I could tell. “You think it will be worth the effort to steal?” I asked pointedly.

“I do. If only to further our cause.”

“Yes. The cause. I’ve heard so much about it and so little at the same time.” I leaned forward conspiratorially, checking over my shoulders to make sure the two lingering girls were still caught up in their talk and not eavesdropping. “I know Skar wants to bring down the Five Ministries, ostensibly because he thinks he can run the operation better.”

“No one has ever claimed Skartovius Ashfen was humble or lacked confidence.”

“What isyourplace in all this? The Chained Sisters.” My hand spread out, gesturing vaguely. “You house humans and dhampir alike. All women. I know an almshouse when I see one, because I grew up in one. But I can’t quite grasp why you’re helping the vampires I’ve associated with—oranyvampires, since you’re a human yourself.”

Her head tilted with a strange expression. If I wasn’t mistaken, it looked like one of pride, like she was pleased I was asking these questions. “You’re a human and you’re helping vampires too, Lady Lock.” Her eyebrows bobbed. “What’s your excuse?”

“I haven’t made a decision about who I’m helping or what I’m doing. I’ve run from one lamentable situation to another, all my life. This is the first prison where I’ve felt any sort of freedom. It makes me curious, I’ll admit.”

“So you’re saying you have no choice?”

“Well, according to Skartovius I do . . .”

As I trailed off, she smiled. It annoyed me because Keffa Caernyd seemed three steps ahead of me, smarter than me, and I didn’t like being outwitted.

With a sigh, she made her point. “The sisters of this house were like you. So was I. They have limited options and fewer choices. You should consider your situation a blessing, Lady Lock—gallivanting through Olhav atop a carriage, from one end of the city to the other—but that would require some humility.”

My cheeks flamed with embarrassment. “Erm, I apologize if I offended, Sister . . .”

“I do not offend easily, child. Let me ask you: Do you believe things are quaint and fine in Nuhav, where we both hail from?”

“Of course not. It’s a cesspool.”

“And we both know the vampires of Olhav made it that way, through centuries of tyranny, abuse, and neglect.” She put a hand to her chest, against her robe. “I was taken as broodstock as a youngling. You know what that is, yes?”

I bowed my head, feeling shameful my questions were making Keffa relive her past.

“Luckily, I could not bear the offspring of vampires.”

Like Jinneth.