“The truth?” Vincent asked cocking his head to one side. “Or a story that fits better with your own preconception of what’s going on.” His eyebrows arched as he held his cuffed hands before him. “I’ve told you the truth Madame, my clan has been at this sort of thing for thousands of years. We’ve always watched, always waited, and now we need that shield.” He shook his chains, the heavy links rattling loudly. His mind flashed to the giant, John Cromwell, and how he would have ripped through the bindings with ease. He thought about making his own daring escape, but something bid him to stay his hand. There had to be a way to solve this the right way, without an unnecessary show of force.

The Tarot had enough problems on its plate as it was.

“How can I possibly prove to you that I’m not lying?” His eyes met hers, attempting to show her how truly sincere he was. “I could show you how the damn thing is supposed to be used for instance, instead of that horrible jerry rigged barrier you’re using it for.” He paused for a moment, realization dawning on him. “What do you guys even have sealed behind there anyways?” His mind turned over the reactions of the villagers in the courtroom, of how he’d been treated, and everything clicked into place. They were scared. His fists clenched for a moment as he realized he’d almost made a big mistake, possibly carelessly releasing some ancient evil from an ancient seal.