Ammas smiled thinly. Carala looked away, downcast. "Deni said mama hanged herself before you arrived."

"I think she sensed our arrival."

"Was she in pain, Ammas?"

He thought of telling a soothing lie, but knew she would not have it. "I don't know, Carala. What it felt like to become a ritual wolf -- to be enslaved to -- well -- "

"To my father. Let us place blame where it is due, shall we?"

"My father as well. He might have put a stop to it."

"From what you told me, your father was in no position to refuse." Her eyes met Ammas's. "You told me he died before you left the archive. Did he hang himself too?"

Ammas swallowed hard, his voice a harsh whisper. "I -- if you had seen what he was like -- "

She shook her head. "I can imagine. Or perhaps I cannot, and only think I can. I am sure you did what was right, Ammas. I am so sorry for it. I wish I had been able to tell you that before. I wish I could do something to make up for what my father did to you."

"To us both, I think."

"Yes," she said softly. "And we are not his most ill-used victims, are we? Your father, my mother, thousands of others. Used and cast aside. I have been wondering if I should take your cure at all. Not because of mama. But just so I need never set foot in my father's house again."

"I swore to cure you, Carala."

"And you gave me another option as well, did you not?"

Ammas looked away, his eyes lighting on Casimir's face. The boy looked uneasy to be here, but attentive as always. "After seeing what such a thing did to your mother? No, I cannot ask that of you."

"They are different things, I think. And maybe you've already done it. Andreth's hold over me was like nothing more than a burst of rain that kept my attention only for a few moments. I was in control of myself that night." She turned a fond smile on Casimir. "I did not flee the Curia because of conflicting desires. I left to find someone who needed me more than the others."

Casimir blushed furiously, looking at his feet.

Ammas ran his fingers along the edge of the goblet he had set out to hold the elixir. "It is your decision, Carala. I would certainly -- if you wanted to return to Munazyr with us -- "

"And how very many complications that would create," she murmured, her fingers tracing along the back of his hand. The scars were still there, and always would be. "If I never return to Talinara there will be a hunt for me, and lies will be told to cover my absence. I will not give my father an excuse to blame you for what happened to mama. And perhaps I am not so safe as I would hope. The wolf who rose up to protect me -- it will come again sometime, won't it?"

They had not spoken much of the wolf of light that had been birthed amid the tide of the Dead, mostly because Ammas understood so little about it. He knew airy spirits could sometimes become templates for more complex spiritual beings, but what had happened here in the cellar was something he had never encountered in his studies. Possibly the confluence of a tamed airy spirit, open portals through the Veil of Ravens, and the presence of a ritual wolf had never come together in such a way before. But he knew enough about spirits to know this one had attached itself to Carala, and the interest it took in her might be far from safe.

"It will," he nodded. With a glance he inspected the steeping elixir: by the clock, it was now ready. Slowly he poured it into the goblet, filling it nearly to the brim. "Will you take it, Carala, or should I begin Silenio's cure?"

Wordlessly she lifted the goblet to her lips and began to drink. Ammas didn't think he breathed from the moment the elixir touched her tongue. Casimir drew closer to him, gripping his hand tightly.

There was no sickness. There was no seizure. She did not choke, or vomit, or go into paroxysms of an uncontrolled transformation. A shuddering sigh whispered from her throat, the taste of the elixir even more bitter than she remembered. But she drank every drop, as Ammas had once instructed. When she was done, he took the goblet from her and gave it to Casimir to wash. Still holding his breath, he drew his twinhooks and pressed the silver end to Carala's wrist.

Nothing happened. She felt the coolness of metal and nothing more.

"The wolf's blood is gone from you," Ammas said, his shoulders slumping in relief.

"Yes," she said. "I can feel it. And it only took my mother's life." With that she burst into tears, her arms going around Ammas, he holding her tightly against him, one hand cradling the back of her head. There were no words he could speak that would give any consolation at all, and so he simply held her until the storm had passed, knowing he must give what comfort he could, knowing that when she returned to Talinara he would never see her again.

Casimir watched them, but began to feel like an intruder. He took the goblet upstairs to wash it. When he had finished he asked Denisius if he'd like to pay a visit to Vos before the Madrenite sisters asked him to leave their hospice.