The Trust in the Light

The figure among the trees stepped forward, and Lyra's breath caught.

It was Mara.

Her sister's copper hair was tangled, and her cloak was torn at the hem. She held a short silver blade in one hand, though she was clearly not used to it. Her face was pale and fierce, and there was something raw in her eyes that Lyra had never seen before.

"Don't you dare touch her," Mara said to the nearest guard.

The guard hesitated, glancing at Crowe. Crowe lifted one hand, and the guards fell back a step, uncertain.

"Lady Mara," Crowe said smoothly. "This is not your concern."

"It became my concern when I heard the elders whispering in the archive last night." Mara's voice shook, but she did not lower the blade. "Thorne sent for me. She told me to bring Lyra home before the court took her. She said something terrible was coming."

Lyra stared at her sister. "Thorne sent you?"

"She said you were the only one who could stop it." Mara swallowed hard. "She said I had to choose between the pack's lie and the truth. I didn't believe her. Then I followed you here, and I saw the pit."

Her gaze moved to the hollow, and her face crumpled for a moment before she forced it back into anger.

"I remember this place," Mara whispered. "I used to dream about it too. A boy with dark hair, calling for help. I thought it was just a nightmare, and I was angry that you got to be the one who remembered."

Lyra's chest tightened. "Mara..."

"Don't." Mara shook her head sharply. "Don't say anything kind to me right now. I'm still furious at you for being born into a pack that was never really yours."

She turned to Kaelen, her voice steadier. "Get her out of here. Take her to Ren."

Kaelen's head jerked up. "You know where he is?"

"Thorne told me. He's in the lower cellars beneath your father's estate, in the old servants' quarters." Mara's mouth twisted bitterly. "She said he's been there for years, under a false name. Working in the kitchens so that no one would look too closely at him. She said he has the original placement papers, the ones your father forged."

Crowe's expression sharpened. "That is enough, Lady Mara."

"No, it isn't." Mara lifted the silver blade a little higher. "You want to know what I think? I think you're a coward who hides behind a newspaper and waits for other people to do your dirty work. Get out of my way."

For a long moment, Crowe did not move.

Then he sighed, and the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips.

"You are all far more troublesome than your mothers ever were," he said. "Very well. Lord Varen will hear of this. But I suspect he will be less interested in you than in what you choose to do next."

He stepped aside, and the guards followed him back into the trees.

Kaelen did not wait. He took Lyra's hand and pulled her toward the path, and this time she did not hesitate.

They reached the estate by midmorning, slipping back through the servants' gate while the household was distracted by a delivery of fresh bread. Mara followed a few steps behind, her hood up and her blade hidden in her cloak.

The lower cellars were cold and dark, lit only by a few flickering lanterns set into iron brackets along the walls. The air smelled of damp stone and old oil. At the end of a narrow corridor, behind a door reinforced with iron bands, Kaelen stopped.

"He's here," he said quietly.

He lifted the bar and pushed the door open.

A young man sat on a narrow cot against the far wall. He was thin and pale, with dark hair falling over his forehead and a face that had grown older than his years. He wore the plain gray tunic of a servant, and his hands were folded in his lap as though he had been waiting a very long time.

He looked up, and his eyes went wide.

"Kaelen?" he whispered.

Kaelen's voice broke on a single word. "Ren."

The young man stood slowly, his legs unsteady. He stared at Kaelen as though he were a ghost, and then his gaze drifted past him to Lyra.

Lyra lifted the wooden wolf from her pocket and held it out in her open palm.

Ren's lips parted. He took a step forward, then another, and reached out with a trembling hand. His fingers closed around the carved wolf, and he made a small, choked sound.

"You remembered," he whispered.

"I remembered," Lyra said, and her own voice wavered. "You told me to keep looking up."

Ren laughed, a broken, wet sound, and pulled her into a fierce embrace. Lyra hugged him back, startled by the strength in his thin arms. Over his shoulder, she saw Kaelen standing very still, his hands clenched at his sides and his face pale with emotion.

When Ren finally released her, he turned to Kaelen and held out the carved wolf.

"I kept this for you too," he said, his voice rough. "I thought you might need it someday."

Kaelen took it with shaking fingers. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have come for you."

"You were a child." Ren's smile was tired but warm. "So was I. We both did what we could."

Behind them, Mara cleared her throat. Ren's gaze shifted to her, and his brow furrowed as he studied her face.

"I know you," he said slowly. "You're the girl who used to throw stones at the wolves' children in the courtyard."

Mara flushed deeply. "That was a long time ago."

"Yes," Ren said dryly. "I remember."

Lyra almost laughed, though her eyes were wet. Then she turned to the cot where the papers lay in a neat stack, tied with faded blue ribbon. Ren followed her gaze.

"The placements," he said. "My father's forged signatures, the court's seal, the elder's approval. Everything. I kept them because I knew someday someone would come asking."

Lyra picked up the top sheet and read the familiar looping hand at the bottom. Ysolde Thorne. The woman who had nodded sadly on the night of the ceremony and promised to keep her secret.

She looked at the papers in her hands, and something inside her settled into place.

"We're going to expose them," she said. "All of them. The court, the elders, the trade. Everything."

Kaelen's gaze met hers, and his expression was fierce and proud.

"The pack assembly meets at moonrise," Mara said suddenly. She still stood by the door, her blade hidden, but her voice was clear. "Every wolf in Ashfall will be there. If you walk in with those papers, Thorne won't be able to hide behind her lies anymore."

Lyra looked at her sister, and for the first time in her life, she saw something like respect in Mara's eyes.

"Then we'll go together," Lyra said.

Mara's mouth twisted, but she nodded once.

Outside the cellar, the bell of the Draven estate began to ring, deep and slow, calling the household to gather in the great hall. Lyra felt the sound in her chest, a warning and a summons at once.

Lord Varen had heard. And he would not wait for moonrise.