Ann took screenshots of all of the evidence, time-stamped them and saved them to the shared drive for Eva to take a look at.
If any sigils were used in any of the projects or buildings that she was currently researching, this could add another layer to the investigation and really prove the duplicitous nature of some of the Elders.
She wrote a summary line under each screenshot of what each picture contained by way of sigils, the triad associated with Eromaug, the broken circle and the comments about the risk of misalignment and instability in live bindings.All of it was evidence, and this way it was preserved if anyone tried to bury it.
She opened another text: The King's Mirror.
This one wasn't theory or debate, it was purely instructional and the first line made that abundantly clear.
"If you anchor a foreign power to your throne, it stays with the crown, not the man."
The title page carried a stamp that read: For Internal Study Only. Someone had decided that the rest of the council would never see this, let alone have access to it.
Ann skimmed through the entries as best she could. There were three recorded cases across two centuries, each ending in the total collapse of kingdoms and bloodlines, sometimes both.
One report discussed how as soon as an heir reached the throne, the power that he inherited was so fractured that it killed him before forty.
Another report discussed a kingdom that had tried a cleansing rite to remove the royal powers entirely with the hope of rebinding to another greater power. They had followed the ritual recommended precisely, with salt, silver filings, blood given freely, names spoken in full, and a fire that burned three days and nights. The rite succeeded, the account said… but after the rite had been completed, no new heirs were born. The bloodline died out and the kingdom fell with them.
Ann stared at the page, her chest tightening as she suddenly thought of a terrifying prospect. The words didn't just sound like theory, it sounded like a reality that most people were not aware of.
"I still fail to understand why the binding to Eromaug is so important. It could have been done centuries ago before his time so it doesn't really matter." Maeve said, bluntly, "Besides, judging by these accounts it doesn't even look like you can remove the curse or binding or whatever you want to call it, not without your kingdom crumbling or your bloodline dying out. Although that would probably be preferable for that crazy old bastard."
"But don't you see? Each kingdom's rulers have different abilities, special powers that only the bloodline can wield when they ascend the throne. The texts say that the ritual needs to be completed and the powers passed from generation to generation…MAeve…what about my fathers powers? It says here that they are passed from generation to generation through the crown, not the person. Does that mean that I'm bound to some power that I know nothing about?!"
The silence stretched between them as Maeve finally began to understand just what Ann was getting at.
"Does this mean that whoever inherits the Lycan Kings throne will also go the same way then?" Maeve asked softly..
Ann stared at the screen in front of her with a complicated mix of emotions.
Why did everything have to be so difficult? She had been trained for this role her whole life and not once did her father reveal any of this. Why was it always hidden bargains…and ones that resulted in the death of so many.
"Maybe we should talk to your father after all…" Maeve suggested quietly and Ann snorted in reply.
She switched to the Veritas messenger and typed a quick note to Eva:
'I need you to pull everything related to "Crown and Gate," "King's Mirror," any mentions of Eromaug or any Daemon binding to rulers. Flag alternate translations and do it quietly. I've already granted you the highest clearance so you should be able to access everything that I can.'
She hit send, thought for a minute and then added a second message:
'Actually, can you also pull any minutes from the meetings where Narcissa pushed for early training in ritual obedience or anything to do with that ridiculous programme of hers and cross-check with orphan program notes.'
She returned to the archive and opened the last file that sat on her list.
Eromaug's Names.
The file was more redactions than text, but a few fragments had been left. A list of titles used to call him: the Chained, the Damned, The Bargainer, The MErciless…the names were all equally dark and disturbing.
Beneath it, warnings were written in red ink.
'Do not speak aloud. Do not write in full. Do not draw all lines at once.'
Ann copied them and set them into her notes, repeating the warnings word for word. She wasn't a fool.
She pulled up a file that she had marked earlier for further reading, this one about sigils that might help them as she didn't fully trust the Elders.
It wasn't barriers that she was looking forit was more minor shapes that or runes or whatever she could find that could be branded into iron or steel. Their only purpose was to slow the spread of pact-magick if it tried to eat through a surface. It wasn't much, but sometimes minutes were all you needed to make a difference. The portal building was going to be housing a dangerous level of magickal energy and she wanted every possibility covered. Even more so thatthere was a possibility that the Lycan king himself could wield whatever power Ely had access to now.
Ann memorized the order and planned to pass it to the blacksmiths in the morning. They would have no idea what the marks meant, but they would forge them into the portal frame anyway.
The door opened behind her and Ann turned, expecting Eva, but it was Coral with two mugs and a plate of food.
"You missed both meals," Coral said. "Eat, or I'll put you in a chair and call the healers as well as Adam, and you know I will."
Ann took the plate and the nearer mug with a grateful smile.
"Thank you." she said as Coral fussed.
"You know, this could be the reason that you aren't sleeping properly and your stress levels are through the roof," she flapped, "You have to take better care of yourself, if not for you, for the little ones at least."
Ann rolled her eyes at Coral's chiding and began shovelling food into her mouth obediently. At first, the food tasted like nothing at all, and then slowly, the warmth began to spread through her. She ate without looking away from the screen as she moved through the files.
Coral leaned closer, peering at the files over her shoulder and squinting.
"Are you cross-referencing murder scribbles with other murder scribbles?" she asked curiously.
"More or less," Ann snorted. "This would be a whole lot easier and far less time consuming if we had a resident magick user, or Lexi. At least that way this wouldn't feel as much like guesswork."
Coral's face softened as her lips twisted into a grimace.
"Any word about her at all?"
"No." Ann answered a little shorter than she had wanted, but when it came to Lexi, the pain at her absence was felt all too deeply.
Coral set the second mug by the keyboard and rested a hand on Ann's shoulder.
"If anyone can find her, Lord Brarthroroz will."
Ann nodded and said nothing more.
When Coral left, Ann pulled a scouts map of the Lycan King's recent movements. Councils he had attended, villages that had vanished, raids along her border as well as his and soon, a pattern began to take shape.
She marked each point, wrote the dates, and made a table down the side.
"You know what this looks like," Maeve said thoughtfully. "Routes to feed a hunger that doesn't quiet down if you leave it too long."
Ann closed her eyes for a second, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with everything that she had found out not just today, but in the past few days.
"Maybe we can predict where he'll head next…" She mused aloud, "At least the general area anyway. It might provide some good opportunities for ambush."
Ann sighed as she promised herself that this would be the last record that she pulled for today and she selected the earliest record in the stack.
This time it wasn't a scanned book, but a translation of an oral account.
A courtier described a king kneeling before an altar in silence. No details were given of the altar, only the price that followed years later. Not in money, but in blood…
Blood that had been taken from his own people, not in battle, but in sacrifice.