LOGINFresh hoofprints cut across the road ahead of us. The ground was still soft where they'd pressed in.Ronan crouched down to look at them. His jaw was tight. "They're ahead of us.""How many?" I asked."Enough to make this a bad idea."A sharp crack came from the trees. We all froze. Someone was out there, watching us.A young man stumbled out with his hands up. He was filthy, hollow-eyed, and had no weapon on him. His eyes landed on me first."Are you looking for Marcus?" he asked.I didn't answer. My face must have said it for me."Then turn around," he said. "Whatever you're hoping to find at the First House is already dead."His knees gave out before I could ask him anything.We checked him over. There was a deep cut along his side, and his skin was pale and dry from thirst. Ronan kept his hand near his blade the whole time."Help him," I said."He knew where we were going," Ronan said quietly. "That's not luck.""If we leave him here to die, we're no better than the people hunting
We ran until the Watchtower disappeared behind the hills, the sound of our own breathing louder than anything else in the dark.I kept looking back anyway, even after there was nothing left to see."They didn't search the whole tower," Ronan said quietly, once we'd slowed enough to catch our breath. "They went straight to the records room.""They knew what they wanted before we did," I said, and the thought settled cold in my chest. How long had Marcus been watched, tracked, hunted, before I ever found that first black cloth in the Council chamber?Selene fell into step beside me, frowning back toward the tower. "They never really pursued us.""You're sure?" I asked."I'm sure," she said. "Two riders went straight for the records room. The others barely glanced toward the passage we used."Pell nodded slowly, working it through. "Their target wasn't Luna. It was Marcus."That shock me more than I expected. Why would anyone want Marcus badly enough to send riders after him in the middl
The road to the Watchtower felt longer than it should have, every mile stretching the silence between us. I kept Marcus's unfinished letter tucked against my chest, inside my coat, close enough to feel it crinkle with every movement of the horse beneath me.If they find you, I will.I'm not letting someone else decide what happens next."You're expecting Marcus to be there?" Ronan asked, riding close beside me."I don't know what I'm expecting anymore," I admitted. "But I need him to have left something behind."We reached the old border station as the light was failing, the sky bruising purple at the edges. The Watchtower rose up out of the hills, weathered but intact — stone walls, a collapsed storage building off to one side, an old watch platform still standing against decades of weather. No magic hummed in the air here. No symbols waited to glow. Just an abandoned military post, forgotten when the Council reorganized its border defenses."This is it," Pell confirmed, checking the
"What do you mean, when it was supposed to end?" I asked.Pell set the identification card down carefully. "The original Witness confirmation was meant to be the final administrative record of the transfer. Once it was filed, Marcus had no further role. His part was finished." He tapped the second notation. "Unless something changed."I stared at the two lines again. Witness confirmed. And beneath it, in different ink, added much later: Witness recalled."How much later?" I asked.Pell examined the ink more closely, checking it against the record number. "Twenty years ago."I did the math without meaning to. Seven years after my transfer. I would have been seven years old.Pell found a small folded record tucked inside the compartment, attached to Marcus's identification. Not a full report. Just a confirmation form, brief and administrative.Protected subject located.Identity unchanged.Protection remains active.Witness confirmation required."Located?" I asked. "They already knew w
If we don't reach him first.The sentence kept circling through my head the whole way to the border settlement, steady as the horse's hooves on the road. For twenty-seven years, Marcus Vale had lived somewhere out here, carrying knowledge of my childhood the way the rest of us carried ordinary memories. I wondered if he remembered my face. If he'd ever lain awake wondering what had become of the little girl he'd helped hide."You're thinking about him," Ronan said, riding close beside me."I'm thinking about what it will feel like," I admitted, "to meet someone who remembers me before I remember myself."He didn't try to answer that. There wasn't really an answer to give.The settlement was nothing like Hollow Crown, or the stronghold, or any of the places this mystery had taken me so far. No ancient magic humming under old stone. Just a practical, worn-down border town — small shops, territorial guards leaning against doorframes, retired officials and travelers who'd chosen quiet liv
"If she remembers the Crown, they'll come for her." I said it again, quieter this time, like saying it twice might shake loose something more.Ronan was quiet for a moment, watching me in the cooling evening light. "Who said it?""I don't know. I never saw his face. Just his hand." I thought about it, the memory still fragile, still liable to slip away if I pressed too hard. "There was a ring. Old. A crown-like symbol, but not the one we keep running into. Not the black mark.""That matters," Ronan said."I know.""Then we're not looking for one person anymore," he said slowly. "We're looking for two. One who hid you. And one who was afraid of what would happen if you remembered."I looked at him. "He could have been the reason I survived.""He could have," Ronan agreed, and didn't try to make it simpler than that.We went back inside together, and I asked Pell to show me the childhood transfer record again. He laid it carefully on the table, and this time I made myself read every lin







