LOGINThe walk down the mountain was livelier than the climb up. Kael and Gerald hauled the twitching Dr. Silas between them like a sack of wet grain, while Valerius kept pace beside Elowen, angling his shoulder against the worst of the wind without saying why.
By the time they reached the church courtyard, the sky had gone violet and gold at the edges. Early risers were already drifting toward the square, murmuring at the sight of the town's own physician dumped face-down on tElowen woke to the smell of strong tea and the low murmur of voices downstairs, and for one disoriented moment, lying in the unfamiliar guest room at Veridian Fine Goods, she forgot entirely why her whole body ached with the particular exhaustion of a night spent running through shadowed streets.Then she remembered, all at once, and was dressed and downstairs within minutes.Kira sat at the kitchen table with a map of the harbor district spread out before her, marking small ink dots at intersections while Rowan leaned over her shoulder, unusually serious. Thaddeus occupied the chair nearest the stove, a cup of tea steaming untouched in front of him, his face drawn in a way that made him look every one of his eighty-two years. Valerius stood near the window, arms crossed, already dressed, looking like a man who hadn't slept so much as waited out the night."You're up," Kira said, glancing at Elowen. "Good. We've been comparing notes.""What kind of not
Veridian Fine Goods sat dark and shuttered when they reached it, the harbor district quiet enough now that their footsteps on the cobblestones seemed too loud. Valerius knocked in a pattern Elowen didn't recognize — three quick, one slow — and a long moment passed before a bolt scraped back and the door cracked open on Kira's face, hair loose from sleep, a short blade already in one hand."Elowen?" Kira's eyes went wide, taking in the scarf, the hour, and then the tall stranger standing half a step behind her with the unmistakable bearing of someone used to being obeyed. "What in the — who is this?""Let us in first," Elowen said, glancing back over her shoulder at the empty street. "Explanations after the door's locked."Kira didn't argue. She stepped back, and within moments Rowan appeared at the top of the stairs in a rumpled sleeping shirt, blinking hard at the sight of a Legion-postured stranger and an unusually gray-faced Master Thaddeus standing in
The lock gave with a soft click that felt far too loud in the silence of the alley, and Elowen eased the storeroom door open just wide enough for them to slip through sideways, Valerius close enough behind her that she could feel the tension radiating off him like heat.Inside, the storeroom smelled the way it always did — dried root and crushed leaf, old wood and lamp oil — and for one disorienting heartbeat the ordinariness of it nearly undid her. Three months of mornings sweeping this floor, and now she was creeping through it in the dark with a fugitive's instinct, a hidden dagger of a man at her back, and Blackwood's watchers two streets away."Stay low," Valerius murmured, easing the door shut behind them with a care that spoke of long practice moving quietly through worse places than an apothecary storeroom. "If they've got eyes on the front, they may have someone watching the alley eventually too. We don't linger near windows."She nodded, already
The streets near the university quarter had gone quiet the way old cities do after dark — shutters closed, lanterns dimmed to conserve oil, the occasional cat slipping between crates. Elowen moved fast through them, her hood pulled low and a plain grey scarf wound over her hair, tucking every loose strand of red out of sight on instinct alone. Three months in Sol-Aethel had taught her that a woman moving quickly through empty streets at night drew exactly the kind of attention she didn't want, and tonight of all nights, red hair was the last thing she could afford to be recognized by. She kept to the narrow side lanes, cutting behind the bookbinder's shop and through the alley that let out near Thaddeus's door, the small blue lantern from Orin tucked deep inside her satchel where its glow wouldn't give her away. She was three streets out when she saw them. Two men in dark, unremarkable traveling cloaks st
Three nights earlier, before Valerius had ever set foot in Sol-Aethel, Elowen had stood at the edge of the last lantern on the pier and asked herself, for the fourth or fifth time, whether this was an act of curiosity or an act of foolishness.She decided it could be both and stepped into the light anyway.Up close, the flame wasn't ordinary fire at all — a cold, steady blue that didn't flicker the way oil or tallow would, burning inside a lantern of tarnished silver etched with the same crescent-and-pine sigil from the scroll. No one tended it. No one stood guard. It simply burned, patient, at the very end of a pier that saw no honest traffic after dark."You came."The voice belonged to a woman who hadn't been there a moment ago — or had been, and simply hadn't registered as a person until she spoke. She stepped out from the shadow of a stacked crate, silver-grey robes catching the lantern's strange light, her face lined with age but her eyes sharp a
The ship made port at Sol-Aethel four days after leaving Aethelgard, and Valerius stood at the rail long before the white towers came into view, watching the fog for a shape that wasn't there yet.He told himself it was strategic caution — a commander scouting unfamiliar terrain. It didn't explain why his chest had gone tight the moment the lookout called land, or why his hand had found the ship's rail hard enough to whiten his knuckles.Kael and Gerald secured rooms at a modest harbor inn — modest by his standards, at least, which still meant the innkeeper nearly fainted at the sight of a Legion banner.Valerius gave orders for the men to make no announcement of rank, no formal presence, nothing that would ripple through the city and reach the wrong ears before he'd had a chance to look for himself."A few weeks, possibly longer," he told Kael, setting down his travel case in a room that smelled of salt and old wood. "We move quietly. This isn't a cam







