I had known this moment would come. I had simply thought I would get to choose the hour of it.
Torvald stood in the nursery doorway, and behind him the corridor was filling: the elders, drawn by the working's light; the wardens; the heir Emeric with the saved children clinging to him; and, at the very back, having come through the packhouse the moment the tower flared, Kael, who had promised to be at the door and had kept the promise as he kept all of them.
I could lie. I had lied to Torvald a hundred times in two lifetimes, and he had always believed me, because he believed whatever was easiest. I could tell him Sable was a witch and I had stopped her and leave out the river and the rebirth and the rest, and he would take it, and I would keep my secret, and the pack would have its clean
