The letter was on the desk, and the words of it were branded on my memory like the claws on stone.

It is not just the blood that the child carries.

It carries prophecy.

And prophecy must bleed.

I read it a second time.

And again.

Till Leon gently prised it out of my hands.

“Who put this here?” he demanded, tightly.

“No scent. No aura. No signature.” I shook my arms. "Didn' t come in the front door,madam."

Leon frowned. “Or any door whatever.”

The room seemed chiller now. Like shadows that seemed to have a purpose and hung on the walls.

There was a rap on the door....