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We hadn't yet sealed the blood pact he had promised me, which meant he could betray me at any time, and I could betray him. But he wouldn't let me out so easily. He needed me...

My stomach began to tingle.

How could my brain be so rational and the rest of my body so emotional? Was it the baby in my womb?

I took a deep breath, trying to focus on my latest discovery.

“Above all, that there's a whole shelf full of Umbra literature here,” Bayla continued, running her fingers over the spines of the books on this shelf.

I opened the tome and, with a sense of disillusionment, realized I couldn't read anything.

“Unfortunately, it's not in English or Latin.”

Who would engrave an English title on a book written in an ancient language?

I knew Ancient Greek. And Latin just like Grace did. This was a sign that I needed to learn the Umbrien alphabet next.

If I didn't want to struggle with dictionaries and translation programs, I would have to rely on the father of my child after all...

Hope spread through me when I discovered scribbled marginal ink notes in Latin as I leafed through the pages. Maybe the book was useful after all.

I carefully pushed the tome back onto the shelf.

“I think these books are the last Umbra books in Canada, if not in the entire world.”

This literature contained old Umbra knowledge. And it hadn’t been burned. The value of these books was... indescribable.

“During the founding era, there was a burning of Umbra literature,” I explained to Bayla, turning to face her. “Do me a favor and don’t mention that word in the presence of a Quatura.” I looked back at the shelf, up at the other books. “You could find yourself before the High Council.”

“Where my mother is right now?”

It took me a moment to put two and two together. Then I spun around.

“Bayla. That’s not a good idea.”

“I know. But I can’t take it anymore.” Her eyes looked as if they were covered by a thin layer of moisture. “I’m playing time researcher here while my mother is being held captive somewhere, awaiting trial.” She pressed her lips together and looked away, the glow of the oil lamp reflecting in her watery eyes. “Damn it, who knows what they're doing to her...”

My eyes widened. “The Circle doesn't torture anyone.”

Whether it was a matter of culture or simply a fundamental tenet of Earth Quatura ethics, inflicting physical or emotional pain on a living being was something that traditional and practicing Earth Quatura adherents would not tolerate.

To this day, Narratia – those Earth Quatura who recited the carefully studied stories of the gods to young Novices during temple classes and to regular Servus during ceremonies, and reminded their sisters of ancient traditions – still tell the story of how the goddess Moenia turned her back on her daughter Sanguina and cast her out because she had demanded animal and human sacrifices from her worshippers.

As long as Diana Adams was in the Circle's custody, she was safe. Amara would not hand Diana over to the Councils just like that. As Domini, that was her duty.

“How do you know that?”

“I know Amara.”

Even though I didn't want to defend her, Bayla should know that Diana was fine as long as she was in Moenia.

“Diana is currently under her care and will only be handed over to the Councils on the day of the trial.”

“When is that day?”

“I don't know...” I admitted honestly. “It could take weeks, even months.”

Normally, the Councils were quick to act when it came to internal treason and violations of the rules. But in recent months, there had been countless delays in their proceedings, not only because they had to prove themselves before the Global Quatura Parliament, but above all because their focus was currently on restoring the old Quatura traditions, hierarchies, and social orders, and thereby making Blairville the epicenter of Quatura society.