They exited the schoolhouse into a sky that had shifted from gray to a flat, bruised lavender. The wind was colder now, sharper, carrying with it something metallic that clung to the inside of Kael's mouth.
Lira didn't speak. She walked quickly, her shoulders tight, her braid swinging behind her like a metronome counting down.
"What are we doing?" Kael asked, trying to keep up.
"Getting you somewhere the Wipers won't look first."
"The what?"
As they rounded the corner into the village square, he saw them.
Two figures stood at the gate: tall, masked, clad in segmented black armor with silver filigree that caught the light like etched bone. Their faces were hidden behind mirrored plates that reflected the village in warped, fluid shapes. At their sides hung long rods that pulsed faintly, humming in a tone that made Kael's jaw ache.
"The Wipers," Lira said under her breath. "Memory enforcers. They hunt for leaks, stolen records, unregistered magic. They shouldn't be here."
"Then why are they?"
"Because something just flared."
Kael's breath caught. "Me."
"No," she said quickly. "Us."
Villagers had begun to gather again, slower this time, more afraid. The Wipers spoke to one of the Elders, though their voices were too muffled to understand. Kael felt something in the air bend toward them, like heat distorting vision.
The smaller Wiper raised its rod and pointed toward the guesthouse.
Kael stepped back instinctively.
"They're going to search it," Lira said. "They're not allowed without Council approval, but they don't care."
"What do we do?"
Lira reached beneath her collar and pulled out a narrow strip of cloth, wrapped tightly like a bandage. She unwound it quickly, revealing a sigil marked in deep crimson ink across the fabric—three lines crossing over a spiral.
"What is that?"
"A tether glyph. Low-level misdirection."
She walked straight toward the Wipers.
Kael grabbed her wrist. "You're going to talk to them?"
"I'm going to lie to them."
He let go.
Lira stepped between the Wipers and the guesthouse, her expression calm but focused. The Elders backed away, watching. The taller Wiper inclined its head slightly.
"We are tracking a surge," it said, voice flat and synthetic. "Location pings here. You will grant entry."
"No flare happened here," Lira replied. "We had a hearthfire ritual. You likely caught the echo."
The smaller Wiper stepped forward. "Initiate. Let us confirm. Resistance will be recorded."
Lira raised the cloth with the glyph and held it out like a token.
"This is a sanctioned emblem," she said. "Filed under House Morran, codex Eighteen-Seven. Check your registry."
Both Wipers paused.
Then, after several seconds, they stepped back.
"Confirmed," the taller one said.
They turned in unison and walked back toward the gate, silent as crows in fog.
Kael stood frozen as Lira returned to him. She looked paler now, the glyph cloth limp in her hand.
"They'll remember your face," she said softly. "But not the flare."
"How did you do that?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she led him down an alley that curved behind the outer houses.
"Lira," he said, stopping her. "That wasn't just a trick. That was real memory magic."
"I know."
"You said you weren't—"
"I said I was helping you," she cut in. "I never said why."