The hour was late, and the moon was high enough that most pack members had retired to their chambers, leaving only guards at their posts and the occasional servant hurrying to complete final tasks. Lyra crept through the shadowed corridors of Blackwood fortress, her steps so light they barely disturbed the dust on the stone floor. She pressed herself against the wall when footsteps approached, holding her breath until they passed. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared it would give her away, but she pushed forward. She could not remember when she had last read anything, and she knew there was a reason why Elias always told her to read The Historia Sanguinis.
That was Elias' favorite book. He had told her that he had discovered so many patterns in that book.
