[ It's remarkable, really, how neatly she slides the dagger between his ribs and into his heart. Wolfe shoots her a sharp look almost before he even realizes it, then forces his eyes back to the stained glass while he mentally shoves a wall up against the sudden flood of emotion that threatens to overwhelm him.

He will never be remembered. The Library has seen to that.

It takes a moment before he's sure that his voice will be steady, will retain its usual dryness as he speaks. But gods, he envies her for her ignorance of what Scholars can become. ]

Take it to heart if you wish, but don't be blinded by pretty words. Your experience with Scholars must have been far different than mine.