Chapter 119 — What Morrigan Found

The Concord's formal review would take weeks, which was time we did not have, but the public hearing had served another purpose. Vane, aware that his activities now drew official scrutiny, was forced to accelerate his own timeline or risk exposure before his plan could reach completion.

Cressida relayed the news through our evening connection, her voice tight with urgency. Morrigan has found something, she reported. Her watchers have tracked Vane to a location she believes is his intended ritual site. She's confident, Liora. More confident than she's been about anything in decades.

Where? I asked, my heart already quickening.

A place called the Silver Hollow, Cressida said. An old oath-warden sanctuary, abandoned for centuries, built in a valley where the boundary between worlds runs unusually thin. Morrigan says it matches every requirement Vane's research suggests for his working.

I relayed this immediately to Arlen, who went very still at the name. "The Silver Hollow," he repeated slowly. "I've heard it mentioned in my father's stories, always with considerable dread. It was where the old council once attempted to seal a different breach, centuries before the gate at Hollowmere ever opened. The attempt succeeded, but at tremendous cost. The valley has remained dangerous ever since."

"Where is it?" Kael asked.

Arlen unrolled one of his ancient maps, tracing a careful route with a weathered finger toward a region I recognized with sudden, sinking dread. "Here," he said. "Four days' ride north of the old meeting ground. And—" he hesitated, clearly troubled, "—less than two days' ride from the northern edge of Draven territory."

The revelation settled cold over all of us. Vane had chosen a ritual site dangerously close to Kael's own lands, either by simple geographic convenience or as a deliberate provocation.

"He knows we've been preparing," Kael said grimly. "He's chosen ground that forces us to defend our own borders while simultaneously trying to stop his ritual. He wants us divided, stretched thin between two obligations."

"Or he simply chose the site that best serves his purposes," Seraphine offered carefully. "We shouldn't assume everything he does is directed specifically at us."

"Perhaps," Kael acknowledged. "But we should prepare as though it is. Better to overestimate his cunning than to underestimate it, as I once did."

I studied the map with growing resolve. "We have perhaps seven weeks until the solstice," I said. "Enough time to prepare properly, if we use it carefully. We need to understand exactly what Vane intends to do at the Silver Hollow, and how we might prevent it, without leaving either Vale or Draven vulnerable to attack."

"We should send scouts," Maren said practically. "Careful ones, capable of observing the valley without alerting whoever Vane has stationed there. If he's already begun preparing the site, there will be physical evidence — construction, supplies, guard patterns — that tells us considerably more about his actual plan than any amount of secondhand intelligence."

"I can arrange that," Kael said. "Corvin commands several scouts who've worked the northern territories extensively. Men capable of moving unseen through terrain that would defeat most ordinary trackers."

"Tell them to be careful," I said. "Whatever Vane has built there, I'd rather lose a few days to cautious observation than lose good people to a trap we should have anticipated."

Cressida's voice came through the pendant, steadier now than it had been in some time. Morrigan wants me to tell you something, she said. The Silver Hollow isn't simply dangerous because of its history. It's dangerous because of what it does to people who stay there too long. The thin boundary between worlds doesn't merely allow things to pass through — it also pulls at those standing nearby. She says even experienced practitioners find their sense of self fraying after only a few days in such a place.

Then the scouts shouldn't linger, I relayed to the others. A day, perhaps two at most, before withdrawing to safe ground.

Arlen nodded approvingly. "A wise precaution. I'll prepare protective charms for the scouts, based on whatever fragments of the old protective practices I've managed to recover. They won't make them immune to the valley's influence, but they might slow its effects enough to matter."

We spent the remainder of the evening planning the scouting mission in careful detail, each of us contributing what knowledge or skill we carried toward making certain the men who volunteered would return home safely.

Wren, who had listened quietly to the entire discussion, finally asked the question I suspected had been troubling her throughout. "What happens if the scouts discover he's already completed whatever preparations the site requires? What if we're too late to prevent it?"

"Then we adapt," Kael said firmly. "We've adapted to every previous surprise this war has thrown at us. I see no reason this one should prove different."

"And if adapting isn't enough?" Wren pressed gently.

"Then we do whatever is necessary," I said, meeting her worried gaze steadily. "Together. That's the only answer I can honestly offer, Wren. I don't know exactly what we'll face, or whether we'll be fully prepared when it arrives. But I know we'll face it as a family, with everything we've built across these months of careful, difficult work."

Wren nodded slowly, some of the tension easing from her young shoulders. "That's enough," she said quietly. "I think I just needed to hear someone say it aloud."

I drew her into a brief, warm embrace, grateful beyond measure for this fierce, thoughtful girl who had grown, across these months, into something closer to a younger sister than simply a distant relation rescued from danger.

Corvin returned from briefing his scouts shortly afterward, his weathered face carrying the practical calm of a man who had planned many dangerous missions across his years of service. "Four volunteers," he reported. "All experienced, all aware of the risks. They'll depart at first light tomorrow, travel by night where possible, and observe the valley from the surrounding ridgeline rather than entering it directly."

"Tell them to take whatever time they need," Kael said. "I'd rather they return with partial intelligence than risk their lives chasing complete information."

"I've told them exactly that," Corvin assured him. "Though men who volunteer for this sort of work tend to take their own cautions more seriously than any orders we might give."

I thanked Corvin warmly for his steady, careful leadership, grateful beyond words for a household willing to risk so much on behalf of a war that had, only months before, belonged almost entirely to me alone.