The moon was a ghost in the sky.
Thin. Watching.
Kael adjusted the clasp on his cloak and motioned for the others to move. Six of them. All handpicked. Trusted. Darius at his right. Sienna at his left, Liora bundled tight on her back in a wrap laced with Seer-woven thread to muffle energy spikes. They didn't want to risk another flare. Not so deep into Ayara's territory.
The shimmerstone pulsed faintly in Kael's palm, glowing a shade darker than before.
"She's close," he said.
No one replied.
The path into the Vale of Ember was long-abandoned. A place even the wind hesitated to pass through. The trees leaned in too close. The roots bled black sap. Every shadow felt like a whisper.
"She was here," Sienna murmured. "Years ago. This is where she broke from the council."
Darius grunted. "Fitting. She's turning the site of her betrayal into her throne."
