Page 63 of Beds and Blades

Caen’s expression tightened, concern beginning to break through her composure.

“How much does she know?”

“She has known for decades that women from Earth arrive at critical moments. She knows the pattern. She knows they bring capabilities Mytharo cannot produce for itself.”

“And now she knows about me?”

“Yes.”

The word was quiet. It landed like a blade set carefully on a table.

“You unmade her siege in two days. She did not need a mage to read that signature,” Caen said.

The conclusion assembled itself with clean, cold, and terrifying precision.

“She is not only looking for me,” I said. “She is watching for the pattern.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

“Every Earth woman who arrives in Mytharo is a strategic asset.”

“An asset that can have a historical impact on this world,” Caen said.

“And Morvanna knows that?”

“She is intimately familiar with this knowledge.”

“Which means every woman who crosses is also a target.”

Caen did not answer. She did not need to. The weight of it sat between us, heavy and ugly.

“Sanctumspire is still comfortable bringing women from Earth here,” I asked, “knowing they may be hunted by an immortal vampire queen?”

“The mages of Sanctumspire believe Mytharo needs these women.”

“That is not an answer.”

“No,” Caen said. “It is an argument.”

“And do you agree with it?”

She looked at her pendant. The blue-white glow caught in the lines of her face, making her look older for a moment.

“There are those of us who have questions about this reasoning,” she said.

“You?”

“Yes.”

“And that is why you are here instead of Sanctumspire?”

Her eyes lifted to mine.

“That is one reason.”

I thought about what it meant that the most dangerous force in this world had considered a PhD student from Philadelphia significant enough to watch.

I thought about all the other women. Hannah from Earth, or something close to it. Women pulled by wanting and usefulness into a world that needed them badly enough to make a net and call it theology.