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    faced. Muttering and grumbling, they headed off to resume their grisly task. Severyn stood a moment, looking down at the bones,
    then fol owed his friend.
    Mick waited for him in the house. His mouth was set in a thin, white line. “I’m going to have a word with Eldering.”
    Severyn needed only one look to retort, “No, you’re not! I know that expression. You’l kil him!”
    “How many died? How many ?” Mick trembled, beyond anger. “And how did they die? Loth! Did you see how smal some of
    those bones were?”
    “You don’t know they were h’naran. He may have thrown his dead servants here, too. What a pig!”
    “The pig’s son can tel us!”
    “Fine. I’l talk to him but you stay away. We need him, remember?”
    “He’s not the only one with the Blood!”
    “Is that so? Who else?”
    There was, of course, no answer. Michael swore and swung a punch at the wal , leaving a hole in the crumbling plaster.
    Severyn was in no mood to confront the new earl. Since assuming control of the castle, each day brought to light shocking
    new information about its late owner. This gruesome discovery, however, exceeded everything they’d uncovered so far. Michael was
    right. The entire bloodline needed to be wiped from existence.
    And you’re marrying one of them .
    Eldering’s room was on the top floor of the north wing, not far from the library. A guard was on duty just outside the door,
    springing to unlock it and let Severyn in. This had been the sin-catcher’s room before his father’s death, as wel , a sign, doubtless,
    of Stefn’s tenuous place in his family’s regard. The dingy plaster wal s were cracked and ful of holes. It was nothing more than an
    attic, sparsely furnished with cast-offs: a narrow bed, a table and an elderly, threadbare chair. A pariah’s room.
    Jumping to his feet, the young Earl of Shia dropped the book he held and faced Severyn with defiance. He saw the skul in the
    prince’s hand and blinked, looking confused and apprehensive. Severyn threw it at him and he caught it before thinking, then
    dropped it with an exclamation of distaste.
    “We found the charnel heap,” said Severyn.
    Lord Stefn’s dark brown hair looked like he’d cut it himself, yet the tousled style suited him. Wisping over his col ar, it was thick
    and soft, tumbling into green eyes which were themselves quite large and with an odd, but pleasing almond shape. Those eyes
    gazed back at Severyn without comprehension.
    It was grotesque that the monster who had ruled Shia, who had committed unspeakable atrocities, could have produced a son
    of such startling beauty.
    “What sort of savage disposes of human bodies like that?” Severyn asked. “Who are those poor wretches in your garbage pit,
    Eldering? How did they get there?”
    “B-bodies? In the pit? What are you…?” Eldering’s voice trailed away at Severyn’s expression. He swal owed hard, then went
    on. “Sometimes Father would capture witches. Of course, they must be executed, but I thought they had been buried or burned.”
    “Executed? Do you see the size of that skul ?”
    The boy looked away, jaw clenched. “This — We are a Covenant Parish of the Church. We hold to the rulings of Holy
    Zelenov. It is lawful… ”
    Severyn sneered. “The Celestial Council is fil ed with corrupt and selfish men, but I have yet to hear any of them cal openly
    for the slaughter of innocents. Tel me, Eldering. What’s it like to murder children?”
    The young earl stiffened, hands clenched into fists. Behind the outrage, however, Severyn saw a flash of fear. “You’re lying!
    Wasn’t it enough that you murdered my father in his own house or used foulest witchcraft to seize control of his daughter and
    estate? Now you must slander him, as wel ?”
    “Slander?” Severyn laughed harshly. “You’re a sin-catcher! Do you think Loth visits such curses on the blameless?”
    The earl whitened, eyes stark.
    “Come with me,” Severyn said. “We’l see