said Violet Popplewell to her mother. “There’s only a limited amount of things to know.” Mrs. Popplewell gave a resigned sigh as she sat at her desk in her small office. “There’s no point arguing, Violet. Your great-aunt Vera is going with you, and that is that. I know she can be a little trying at times, but a girl your age cannot simply travel to an unknown city by herself. You must admit that. Especially with things being so unsettled. ” Violet considered brooding for a moment but fought the impulse. She was a practical girl, after all, and what can’t be mended must be borne. She returned to her room to make another attempt at packing. “Unsettled.” That was her mother’s word for impending war. The Archmage of Canterbury was dead. His body, entirely drained of blood, had been found with that of his wife in their private chamber. There was little doubt the assassin was a Vampire. Within twenty-four hours, rumors of a looming war had spread across England like a winter storm.
