Inric squints against the sun until he can make out the features of the speaker. She is a small woman with a fierce expression. Like all the peoples of Maradys, she has large, mobile ears and small horns peeking out of her fluffy hair.
"I knew one of your kind would show up eventually," she says, and brandishes the book at him. "When this appeared, I knew. I don't want you here. But there is something I need to know." Inric waits. She takes a deep breath. "Thirty years ago, my friend and I worked for your people. She died in your war. I want to know what happened to her. Tell me that, and you can have the book." She leans forward, and her expression becomes more fierce, if that's possible. "I want the truth. Give me your word. I know you won't break it. Else I will burn the book."