The Glass Bottle,Leonie’sstream, where the nachzehrer cleansed herself after every feed.
As Margaret watched in awe, the image expanded, coming closer and closer until one small pinecone, wedged between two rocks, filled up the whole of Reflection’s Heart.
“The Seed of the Forest,” she breathed.
Of course.
No wonder it had been given that name.
It looked just like any other pinecone at first; it was only as she stared at it closely that she finally began to pick up the tiny differences in coloration that marked it as made from some other material than the usual, natural kind. It must be some type of hard mineral, but what that could be...
“You’ll have a whole book to write at the end of this,” murmured her husband.
Margaret could already imagine it. There wasso muchthat she could learn from the combination of Reflection’s Heart and the Seed! So much she could study, so many revelations to uncover—why, she could change the whole face of modern scholarship...
But only if, like the baroness, all she cared about was her own driving ambition.
“What’s wrong?” Leonie asked. “Why don’t you look pleased?”
Margaret shut her eyes for a long moment. She had never before felt quite so painfully tornbetween conflicting impulses. When she could finally bring herself to speak, her voice was low and pained. “The baroness asked Reflection’s Heart to show her ‘the tool that could douse her enemies’ light’, and it showed herme. She assumed I would play that part by poisoning the nixen’s lake on her command...but what if she was wrong?”
“What do you mean?” Lord Riven moved closer, setting a protective hand on her lower back.
“What if...” Margaret bit her lip, staring down at Reflection’s Heart and the miraculous display inside it. “I keep thinking of how easily—how wickedly!—the baroness mis-used this stone. If I tell everyone all about it and the Seed... If the Seedispowerful enough to affect this whole forest, who knows how that power could be mis-used? And which villains would leap at the chance to use it, too?”
“Ahh.” Her husband let out a long sigh. “You’re thinking of the sorts of dangers we feared might arise from the Rose of Normandy, if any kings or generals took hold of it now?”
Margaret nodded unhappily. She’d tried to ignore the distraction of all those worrying political headlines and rumors, but if it ever came to a real war...
She drew a deep, ragged breath as she looked around at all the different faces watching her. She couldn’t possibly justify putting any of them in danger.
“Increased knowledge should always benefit the world,” she said softly. “I stillbelieve that to be true. And Iwantto spread better understanding of the supernatural across the human world, to ease ignorant fears and quash poisonous myths. I think that may be the best possible use for the reputation that I currently have, like it or not. But...”
She swallowed over the knot in her throat. “Perhaps not every piece of knowledge truly has to be made public. And I think...I think it would be safernotto incite any other greedy, selfish minds to see what cruelties they might inflict with these two artifacts.”
There was a long moment of silence in the fire- and candle-lit room.
Then Leonie broke it with an impatient huff of air. “Well,Istill want to know how it all works!” she said fiercely. “Don’twedeserve to understand where we came from, no matter what any humans outside the community may think or do? And I mean all of us, not just the seven who happen to live here!”
“Of course you deserve that knowledge,” Margaret said. “Every supernatural does, no matter where they live. But if I publish what I learn in any scholarly journals...”
“What if you didn’t? What if...there could be a different means of dissemination?” Lord Riven asked slowly. “Or perhaps a safe space for such knowledge to be kept, one which only approved visitors could access?”
“I suppose that might work,” she said doubtfully. “But where?”
Leonie threw up her arms. “Do you even have toask? We have the Seed and Reflection’s Heart right here in this room! This inn is hidden in the middle of nowhere, far from any cities. Now that the baroness is gone, how much safer a place could anyone find to hide secrets?”
Margaret’s eyebrows rose as she exchanged a wary glance with her husband.
But Herr von Krallemann’s expression was thoughtful. “This innwasalways intended to be a refuge for the supernatural community.”
Konrad had been standing atop a chair to get a good view of the stone; now, the kobold looked around the shadowed room with an assessing gaze that seemed to take in the whole rambling building. “There’s plenty of space we could use for more visitors—and we already have a good-sized library, though it’s fallen into disrepair.”
Herr von Krallemann nodded. “If we made this a safe place not only to take shelter but to study and build up supernatural knowledge, for any who may need it, either now or in the future...”
“But how would anyone know?” Herr Fischer shook his head with a quick, convulsive jerk. “Could hardly advertise it in newspapers!”
“No, you’d have to rely on word of mouth to be safe,” Lord Riven agreed. “Messages would need to be quietly passed among trusted members of the community across the continent.”
