The Fractured Legacy

THE AWAKENED REALM: BOOK 2

D.K. HOLMBERG

Copyright © 2025 by ASH Publishing

Cover art by Damonza.com

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Chapter

One

The ancient ruins of Vharakal clung to the mountainside, half-shrouded in early-morning mist. Dawn light spilled over the eastern peaks, casting long shadows across tumbled stones. What had once been a sprawling complex—perhaps a temple, perhaps something more—now lay scattered across the terrain, its purpose obscured by time.

The evidence of the battle dotted the ruins. Dark stains marked where Servants had fallen. Chips of freshly broken stone showed where blades had struck ancient walls. The fabrications that had been arranged in a careful pattern around the dais were now shattered, their fragments still glinting with residual power. Power lingered in the air, a subtle vibration that could be felt more than seen.

Morning sunlight illuminated what darkness had hidden—evidence of recent excavation throughout the ruins. Wooden braces shored up walls where the earth had been freshly dug away. Tools lay abandoned near trenches that followed the outlines of buried structures.

“You’re avoiding moving closer to them,” Tabitha said from behind.

Ellie shook her head. “I’m not avoiding anything.”

“I’ve seen you do this before. You’re using your little walk out here to distract you. That’s fine, but you should at least admit you’re avoiding something.”

“I’m not,” Ellie repeated.

But even as she said it, she knew that, in a way, she was avoiding things, wasn’t she? Her brother was here—and now, apparently, her father.

“He was dead.” Ellie stood motionless as she stared at the flat section of rock, her eyes tracing the faint patterns etched into its weathered surface. Sunlight caught the edges of the carvings, bringing the ancient script into sharper relief—spiraling symbols that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles. The stone itself was unlike the others in the ruins—smoother, darker, with an almost metallic sheen when the light struck it just right.

Tabitha touched her on the arm. “It’s okay. I understand what you’re doing.”

“He was dead,” Ellie said, not taking her gaze off the wall.

“What happened?”

“I don’t even know. I was young when he left.” She glanced over to her friend, trying to blink away the wetness that had come to her eyes. Why was she crying? Ellie had already mourned her father, and had no interest in having any sort of relationship with him. If he had wanted to know her, he could have done so at any time during her life up until now, couldn’t he? Obviously he still knew about her, as he had known about her brother. “When I was younger, my mother told me that he had left. After a while, when he didn’t come back, she said he must’ve died because it was the only reason he wouldn’t have come back for us.”

“You have a chance to get some answers now,” Tabitha said. “That is, if you want them.”

Ellie turned away. Her focus was taken off the building, and though she could feel some of the fabrications trapped inside it, and a part of her longed to push against them to see if she could shatter them, anger bubbled up within her, and she didn’t know if it made sense to do so.

“I don’t care.”

Then why does it still hurt?

She’d been young when he’d left—young enough that she shouldn’t remember what he’d done, but it still hurt. She’d had only her mother—she and Baring both had only their mother—but then their mother had been taken from them as well. Ellie had been left with nothing.

She and Baring had been left alone.

“You don’t?” Tabitha asked.

Ellie shook her head. “I don’t care. I know how that sounds. I know that it doesn’t make any sense and you probably disagree with me, but I don’t care.”

Tabitha was quiet for a moment before she smiled tightly. “If that’s your truth, then so be it.”

“My truth?”

“Well, there is the truth, and there is each person’s truth. I think it’s a reasonable place to start.”

“You mean my father’s truth? Or the truth of what we were sent here to do?”

Because that, it seemed to Ellie, was significant. How much did Dorian know?

“I think you have to focus on all the truths that matter to you,” Tabitha said.

“Well, I can tell you that the one dealing with my father doesn’t really matter to me.” Though Ellie tried to mean it, she wasn’t sure that it was even true for her. “Then there is the truth about Dorian.”

Tabitha looked up from where she was sketching the ruins. “The king?”

“Right. That his handpicked Empyrean was an impostor? That I broke a priceless ancient relic rather than retrieving it? That apparently I have some connection to an ancient power that even I don’t understand?”

“All of it.” Tabitha closed her notebook and regarded her friend carefully. “The king sent you because he trusted you would do the right thing. You did.”

Ellie shook her head. “I’m not so sure. What if he knew about this… whatever it is inside me?” She flexed her fingers, remembering the burning sensation that had flowed through her into the relic. “What if that’s why he’s been training me all these years?”

“Would that change anything?” Tabitha asked quietly.

Ellie considered this. The sun shifted, painting the ruins in copper and gold. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She looked down at her hands. “If he knew and never told me…”

“Perhaps he didn’t know,” Tabitha offered. “Or perhaps he suspected but wasn’t certain.” She leaned forward. “Consider this: Maybe he sent you to find answers, not just for him but for you.”

Ellie glanced toward where Baring and her newly discovered father stood in conversation with Ralen. “I found far more than I bargained for.”

“As one does in proper adventures,” Tabitha said with a wry smile.

“You call this an adventure?” Ellie gestured to the aftermath of battle around them. “People died here, Tabitha.”

“And more would have if you hadn’t stopped Jerath.” Tabitha’s expression sobered. “I saw your face when you touched that relic, Ellie. Whatever power was in there… it wasn’t meant for this world.”

Ellie nodded slowly. “Dorian will want to know everything about it. About the Servants, the Arbiters, the relic.”

“And your father?” Tabitha asked gently.

Ellie’s jaw tightened. “That’s… complicated.”

“I imagine so.” Tabitha’s voice was soft. “But the king might have insights. He’s got more experience than he seems, you know. Whatever these ancient powers are, what if he’s encountered whispers of them before?”

“Perhaps.” Ellie stood, brushing dust from her clothes. “Or perhaps I’m bringing trouble right to his doorstep.” She gazed toward the horizon, where Busal City lay beyond sight. “I was supposed to be his agent, gathering information. Instead, I might have started something.”

“Or ended it,” Tabitha countered, rising to stand beside her. “For now, at least.”

Ellie turned to look at her friend, a small smile finally finding its way to her lips. “When did you become so optimistic?”

“Someone has to balance your brooding,” Tabitha replied, bumping her shoulder against Ellie’s. “Besides, I’ve been taking notes this entire time. Whatever Dorian might think of our adventure, I intend to document it properly.”

“Of course you do,” Ellie said, her smile widening despite her looking over toward Ralen.

Ralen noticed her watching and approached. His dark hair fell in unruly waves, swept back from a face defined by sharp angles and quiet intensity. Those startling light blue eyes—almost silver in a certain light—held a depth that suggested he’d witnessed things beyond the usual.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, bowing his head. “I was a little concerned that you might take off since the assignment is complete. The king sent you to gather information—and stop what was happening. And you’ve done it.”

“Don’t act like you know what the king sent me to do,” Ellie said.

“All right,” he said, raising his hands. “I won’t pretend to know anything, although I do have my ways of finding things out. It is how we seek safety and stability.”

She snorted. “I’ve been told the same thing by the Guild.”

The Guild of Assassins was powerful and dangerous, and Ellie still didn’t know whether she could trust their allegiance—or what it actually might be.

Ralen shrugged, his well-worn leathers shifting with the motion. A single pendant of twisted metal caught her attention, its design unfamiliar, its purpose unknown. Perhaps a fabrication, though she felt no sense of power from it. “The Guild, at least in its current form, would also make a similar claim, though I don’t know that I would agree with that.”

Ellie didn’t have much experience with the Guild, at least not in its current form, so she wasn’t quite sure that she truly understood the danger, but she’d had some interaction with the man she believed led the Guild now. Enough so that she knew she needed to keep her knowledge of them to herself, so that others like Ralen—and her father—didn’t learn something that could be used against Busal.

“You should talk to him.”

“Now you want to tell me what to do?” Ellie asked.

Ralen shrugged. “I don’t pretend to know what you need to do, but I can see it in your face that you want to. Maybe this is the time to do so.”

She took a deep breath. She did have to deal with her father eventually.

“At least listen and hear what he has to say.”

“Why do you care?” she asked.

“Because you strike me as one who would regret not taking the opportunity.”

Ellie sighed and walked away. By the time she caught up with her father, she was at the edge of the ruins. He stood with his back to her, dressed in a long, dark cloak that flowed strangely, as if it were catching the wind. Ellie felt a distinct sense of power within the cloak, which made her wonder what sorts of fabrications were woven within it. In her mind, there had to be several different ones worked within the cloak because it was the only way she would feel that amount of power from it.

She approached her father cautiously, with Tabitha alongside her. She caught her friend’s gaze. “I think I need to do this on my own.”

Tabitha nodded. “I understand. Do you want me to get Baring?”

“I doubt I’m going to need him.” Her brother was seated on a pile of boulders not far from their father.

Ellie found herself studying the face of the man she’d spent a lifetime trying not to imagine, searching for pieces of herself in his weathered features. Her father stood tall and straight-backed despite his years, his once-dark hair now streaked with silver, but his eyes were the same shade of pale blue as her own. Deep lines etched his face, yet there was something in the set of his jaw that reminded her unmistakably of Baring. His hands, scarred and calloused, had once held her as an infant, but had chosen to let her go.

“Don’t go too far,” she finally said.

Tabitha nodded.

Ellie strode forward, but even before she reached him, her father turned toward her. His eyes seemed to swallow the night, and there was a heaviness to him that made her feel the power that emanated from him. Then it softened. It was almost as if his eyes lightened, the weight lifted, and he smiled. Ellie didn’t feel as if it was genuine. If he really cared, he would have come looking for her long ago.

“Do you really hesitate to talk to me?” he asked.

“Shouldn’t I?” Ellie looked down at the ground. The stone beneath her feet was a bit irregular, drawing her focus and attention, though maybe it was nothing more than a distraction—and one that she should know better than to get caught up in.

“You have questions.”

“I’m beyond the point where I care about having questions answered.”

“But you need to know the answers.”

“Do I need them?” She straightened, and she focused on what to say. She thought about all the reactions she’d had over the years, everything she had considered saying when she had thought about having an opportunity to see her father again.

When she was younger, there had been a long time when she had wanted nothing more than to see him, and then later to get answers, but now her anger had turned to indifference. She didn’t care. At least, that’s what she told herself.

“You still have a look about you,” he said, smiling slightly. “I remember that frown, and that anger, from when you were little.”

“How can you remember anything? You left before you knew me.”

“Your mother.” He looked her up and down. “You have quite a bit of her in you. Although, considering what I’ve heard, you have even more of her in you than I previously suspected. You are like her, aren’t you?”

She understood what he implied. She was a Blade, like her mother, but she was also something else—something she still didn’t fully understand.

“And if I am?”

“She would be pleased,” he said.

“She’s dead,” Ellie hissed.

“I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect her.”

“You abandoned her. You gave up your right to protect her when you left.” She flicked her gaze over to Baring. “We tried, but we weren’t enough.”

“Is that what drives you now?”

Ellie clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to get into this kind of discussion with him, and she certainly didn’t want to fight with him, though maybe that would be better. Let her argue with him, let her yell at him, let her feel that rage and frustration that she had known the moment she realized he still lived. Let her feel.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“I wanted to give you an opportunity to ask the questions that you obviously have. I have given Baring the same opportunity.”

“Baring doesn’t care because he remembers you better than I do. To him, you’re probably still our father.” Ellie looked over to where her brother was still seated. He was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, an intensity to his gaze. “He remembers, but I don’t. To me you were just a name.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but she certainly didn’t remember their father the way Baring did.

“Of course. And you have every reason, every right, to feel that way.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I can feel,” Ellie snapped.

“You’re right. I don’t,” he said. “I was just saying that I understand. I didn’t have a choice. When I was called, I had to go. That is how it works.”

“Called?”

“Much like your mother, I served a higher purpose. She knew.”

That gave her pause. “She knew?”

Her father nodded. “She did. I think she knew it in a way she didn’t want to believe. We spent many years together where I did not have to serve, but when I was called, I had no choice.”

The men she had trained under, both Zaren and Dorian, had taught her that there was always a choice, but sometimes one choice was better than another.

“So you left.”

“I had to go.”

“And now you’ve decided to come back.” She straightened, tamping down her frustration and trying her best to ignore the irritation that raged inside her. She hated feeling that way, and she wanted to suppress it. She wanted to feel nothing.

But she couldn’t.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t just feel nothing. Because she did feel.

“We had to deal with the Servants. That is why I returned,” her father explained. “Unfortunately, there remains a touch of what they did. What you did, I suppose.”

Ellie was quiet for a moment. “I can feel it.”

“Have you also felt what exists within Busal City?”

He watched her intently, and there was something else in his eyes, a different sort of question that Ellie was unsure whether she even wanted to answer.

“I can,” she said carefully.

“As I suspected. Good. Those are some of the ancient powers, powers that have started to fade, to disperse, and yet I suspect that those are the kind of powers that are going to need to find their way back in the world once again.”

“You mean Inarak?”

“I mean powers older than that,” he said, his expression darkening. “Powers that existed before the fae and Inarak. The kinds that most have forgotten.”

“And what do you have to do with all this?” Ellie demanded.

Her father’s eyes held hers steadily. “I belong to a group called the Arbiters. We track and contain dangerous ancient powers that could threaten our realm. It’s what I’ve been doing since I left.”

“Left?” Ellie felt her anger rising again. “You mean since you abandoned us.”

“As I said, I was called to serve,” he said, his voice tight. “The Arbiters identified something in me—something I’ve passed to you. When certain abilities manifest, we have obligations.”

“Obligations more important than your family?” Ellie bit out.

“The Arbiters maintain balance,” he continued, ignoring her question. “We monitor boundaries between realms, ensure ancient relics remain contained, and track those who would misuse forgotten powers. What you experienced with that relic—the burning sensation—that’s part of your inheritance.”

“So that’s what this is about? You think I’ll join your Arbiters now?”

“I think you need to understand what you are. The burning power within you isn’t a typical Blade ability. It’s older, more fundamental. It’s why the Servants want you—they recognize what you could become.”

Baring stood up from where he was seated and stepped closer to them. “Father has been tracking the Servants of Ascendance for years, Ellie.”

“You knew about all this?” Ellie asked incredulously.

“Not everything,” Baring admitted. “But enough to understand the danger.”

Her father’s gaze never wavered. “The relic you destroyed was just one piece of their plan. There are others. And the boundaries between realms are growing thinner every day.”

“What do you want from me, then?”

Because at this point, Ellie suspected that was the key here, wasn’t it? He wanted something—otherwise, why keep her here? It seemed to her that there had to be some other reason she had been drawn here, and something else he wanted from her.

“I could train you,” her father said. “Help you learn what you can be.”

She laughed viciously. “You could train me? I’m sorry, but I can’t believe you actually think I would even entertain that.”

“Ellie,” Baring pleaded.

She looked over at her brother. “And you,” she said, venom starting to build in her tone. She knew she had to be careful because she wasn’t mad at him. Well, she didn’t think she was. Maybe just a little bit. “I don’t think you should say anything.”

He held his hands up. “You have proven to have an ability, Ellie. One that can be of great use⁠—”

“I have no interest in being of any use to you or anybody that you serve. I intend to return to Busal. That’s my responsibility, not whatever this is.” She turned, storming over to Tabitha and ignoring her father calling after her. “Come on,” she said to her friend. “You can check out the ruins, but then we are leaving.”

Chapter

Two

Ellie made her way down the rock steadily, Tabitha next to her. The mountainside unfolded beneath them in a tumble of weathered stone and hardy vegetation. Away from the ruins, twisted trees clung to rocky outcroppings, their roots somehow finding purchase. The path they followed was barely discernible, marked only by slightly less treacherous footing and the occasional cairn stacked by previous travelers. Mist clung to the lower slopes, obscuring the valley below and creating the unsettling impression that they were descending into clouds rather than toward solid ground.

Small streams, fed by the mountain’s snowmelt, cut across their path at irregular intervals, their waters crystal clear and bitingly cold. The air grew noticeably warmer as they dropped in elevation, though occasional gusts of wind would sweep up from below, carrying with them the scent of pine forests waiting somewhere beneath the mist. Loose scree shifted treacherously under their boots, sometimes cascading down in small avalanches that disappeared into the fog.

“Nothing?” Tabitha asked at one point, and Ellie looked over. Tabitha had been quiet ever since they had left the ruins. She seemed to have recognized that Ellie was still troubled by what she had been through, especially the fact that her brother had sided with their father. She had tried to talk to Baring before leaving, but he had been interested only in trying to convince her to give their father another chance.

She had wanted none of it.

Dorian hadn’t told her everything she’d needed to do, but he had told her enough. Now she feared that the Servants of Ascendance were moving again, seeking relics with power that predated even the Inarak. Her assignment had been to observe, gather intelligence, and, if possible, stop them. She’d done all three—but at what cost? She now had to bring back what she knew, and if she was wrong, the kingdom could face something far worse than a splinter cult.

“There’s nothing here,” Ellie said softly. “Thankfully.”

Tabitha nodded. “Good. I figured you have been testing and that if there was anything here, you would let me know.”

Ellie chuckled and then looked out down the mountainside, toward the distant city of Buruketh. It was far enough away that she had some difficulty detecting the kind of power that existed within it, but she knew there was some.

“I think that we have dealt with everything we’ve needed to.”

“Everything?” Tabitha looked over. She had a notebook in hand and was chewing on her lip, but when she looked up, something lingered in her eyes—a look that Ellie couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe it was curiosity about what else she might need to do, or maybe it was the fact that she knew Ellie was not being completely honest—not with her, not with herself. Regardless, none of it mattered.

“Why don’t we⁠—”

Ellie spun, withdrawing her blade in one fluid motion as a pair of figures materialized from the mist. Their dark robes marked them immediately as Servants of Ascendance.

Why couldn’t they have attacked when there were others to help?

“Get behind me,” she whispered to Tabitha.

The Servants blocked their path down the mountain. Retreating back up would be a danger and a gamble.

“You’ve interfered enough,” the leftmost Servant said, unsheathing a curved blade. “The Sovereign’s will cannot be denied.”

Ellie focused on her Blade ability, readying an attack. A pulse of it should disrupt what they attempted, but alongside her Blade ability, that other power—the burning sensation she’d experienced with the relic—flickered to life. She fought to keep it contained, remembering how it had threatened to overwhelm her before.

One of the Servants lunged. Ellie parried the first strike, pushing out her Blade ability into the dagger. The burning power surged unbidden, flaring in her chest and making her stumble.

What is that?

She would have to understand—and control it.

But now wasn’t the time.

The Servants rushed forward, though she couldn’t tell what kind of power they were readying. Still, it wasn’t only the Servants that were the issue here. Ellie found herself fighting on two fronts—against their assault and against the wild power threatening to break free within her, whatever it was.

She barely managed to deflect a strike aimed at her chest, the impact sending pain up her arm. Behind her, Tabitha grabbed a loose rock and hurled it at one of the Servants, but it passed harmlessly through the air as he sidestepped it.

One Servant’s sword sliced dangerously close to Ellie’s face. In desperation, she reached for both powers at once⁠—

The backlash nearly knocked her off the mountain.

Her blade flashed with white-hot energy that made even the Servants stumble backward. For a moment, the air itself seemed to distort around her.

“What are you?” the nearest Servant asked.

Was that concern in his voice?

Ellie didn’t answer. She was too busy trying to rein in the power before it consumed her. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she struggled for control.

“Ellie?” Tabitha said.

Her legs buckled, not from the fight but from the flood of sensation. She’d held too much power, drawn from too many places. Beneath the exhaustion, fear also gnawed at her. What if she couldn’t control it next time? What if she became the danger she feared?

She readied to fight, when she saw movement behind her and spun toward it.

Another Servant?

No. Ralen.

His appearance seemed to scare the Servants away. As annoying as that might be, at least she didn’t have to contend with these warring powers and how to control them. Besides, she should’ve known that Ralen was going to follow her down the mountain.

He approached casually, moving with the confident grace she had come to expect from him, and he paused across from her, regarding her for a long moment. His light blue eyes held her gaze too long. Ellie looked away, annoyed at herself for noticing.

“You are already leaving.”

“You chased me down to tell me that?” she asked, looking back to see if there were still signs of the Servants. They’d disappeared, as if they had never been there.

“I didn’t really chase you.” He paused, also looking back. The jagged peaks of the Nirthaal Mountains loomed behind him, their snowcapped summits piercing the pale sky. Morning light caught on the rocky slopes, transforming patches of ice into gleaming mirrors while casting deep shadows in the crevices between. Thin wisps of cloud clung to the mountains, their edges gilded by sunlight. The ruins of Vharakal stood in stark silhouette against this backdrop. The narrow path they’d descended wound like a snake down the mountainside, disappearing around outcroppings of weathered stone before emerging again farther below. “Well, I suppose I did chase you. You moved a lot faster than I would’ve expected. I wanted to ask you about why you were leaving so quickly.”

“I’ve said all that I need to say to him, and I don’t intend to do or say anything more.”

“All right. And you aren’t curious about the Arbiters?” Ralen asked.

Ellie let out a sigh, the anxiety in her fading. There was a part of her—a large part, she had to acknowledge—that was curious about the Arbiters, what they did, and, for that matter, what else she might be able to learn from them. But it involved dealing with her father, and that was not something she was interested in.

“As you know, I had an assignment,” she said. “From the king. The assignment is over, so now I’m going to return, report back on what happened, and then⁠—”

“Stay in Busal, not taking advantage of all that you could do, and all that you could be.”

“You say it as if you know everything about me,” she said.

“No,” Ralen said, shaking his head. “I don’t. I can’t claim to know you at all, not really. But I know a little bit about what you’ve been through and what you might be able to learn. That is, if you were still open to it.”

“You came down here. Why don’t you teach me?”

“I have other assignments,” he said.

She flashed a sarcastic smile. “Well, so do I.”

He regarded her for a long moment, and she wasn’t sure if he was going to challenge her, but she was thankful that he didn’t. Instead, he just nodded. “It seems as if our paths travel the same direction for now. Mind if I stay with you?”

She shrugged. “As if I could tell you no.”

“You could, but I wonder if you would.”

She snorted. “If you give me trouble, I will.”

“Then I have to avoid giving you trouble.”

“Would the two of you stop,” Tabitha said. “Obviously Ralen wants to come with us, and he still hasn’t decided how much he wants to share with you.” She turned to him. “And for her part, Ellie is thankful that you’re here, Ralen. She’s not sure what more she might learn from you, but she doesn’t want to learn it from her father. But seeing as how you know things about the Arbiters, she is intrigued. So we will travel to Buruketh together and meet up with the Empyreans, and then we can decide what else we’re going to have to do.”

“The Empyreans?” Ralen asked.

Ellie nodded. “Soldiers made it into town. They brought a friend of mine, too.”

“Good,” Ralen said, his gaze darting around. She followed the direction of it, but she didn’t see anything. For that matter, she didn’t feel anything, either. That should reassure her, but she wasn’t entirely sure if it should. There was still the possibility that there was some danger from Jerath.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Any sign of the Servants,” he said. “I am not completely convinced that they have left you alone, and I’m certain they haven’t left this place alone. If they believe there is power to be found here, they will stay.”

“Even if there is power to be found here, there’s not a whole lot that can be done about it.” And even with what she had already done with the relic they had tried to acquire, she couldn’t help but feel as if there wasn’t much more that needed to be done. There wasn’t much more that could be done, for that matter.

“Still,” he said. “Better to keep an eye on things, and better to keep you safe. Inasmuch as you can be kept safe.”

Ellie chuckled. Did Ralen really think he would have to protect her?

She wasn’t going to argue, not with him heading in the same direction as her, and not with the power that they might encounter. Because if the Servants, Jerath, and whoever else he was fighting alongside were going to attack, it would be useful to have somebody of Ralen’s skill with them.

They continued making their way down the mountain. The narrow path twisted beneath their feet, forcing them to pick their way carefully around loose rock and patches of treacherous ice that lingered in shadowed hollows. Wind carved from the higher peaks whistled through rocky outcroppings, carrying the sharp scent of pine and snow. Their boots crunched on gravel as the trail alternated between steep switchbacks and more gradual descents.

As they neared the city, Ellie let out a sigh. The sprawling view of Buruketh emerged gradually from the landscape as they descended farther down the mountain path. Initially visible only as a distant smudge against the terrain, the city took clearer shape with each bend in the trail, spreading across multiple levels and adapting to the mountain’s natural contours, with neighborhoods rising and falling with the terrain.

Smoke rose from hundreds of chimneys, creating a thin haze that hung above the slate rooftops and mingled with low-hanging clouds. The main road they were following merged with others as it approached the city gates, where a steady stream of traders, merchants, and travelers flowed in and out. Toward the city’s center, several larger structures dominated the skyline—the library’s dome, the marketplace’s covered pavilions, and what might have been administrative buildings, their architecture more deliberate than the jumbled residential quarters.

The outer districts were mostly newer buildings constructed of timber and stone pressed together along narrow streets that twisted and switched back upon themselves as they climbed the slopes. Surrounding the city, plots of cultivated land formed patchwork patterns on gentler inclines, while the steeper terrain remained wild or was terraced for growing hardier crops.

“It is an old place filled with power,” Ralen said, “and still connected to the world in unique ways. Or at least, that is what I would normally say. In your case, I suspect that you are familiar with such connections that most are not.”

“Busal City is not connected in quite the same way,” Ellie said softly. “There are ancient powers, but beyond that there is really not much.”

“No? Interesting. I would’ve expected that you would have noticed something, and perhaps felt something, when you first arrived in Busal City. How long ago was it?”

“Close to eight years now.”

She had been twelve when she had gone to Busal City with her brother, after their mother’s death, when they had wanted nothing more than revenge for what had happened to her. Ellie had believed that they were going to be able to get that revenge, and even with everything they had encountered, she had still believed she could—and should. Time had changed that for her, and more than that, Zaren had mentored her and helped soften some of that desire for vengeance.

Seeing her father had brought back memories she had not realized she had held so tightly.

She thought about her mother and the good memories she had of her. Memories of everything she had taught her. Ellie knew that the man responsible for her death had been dealt with, but now she was thinking more about the fact that her father had not been there.

Knowing what she did now, that he obviously had connections to power—power that Ellie might even have a connection to, as she was starting to realize—left her thinking that he might’ve been able to do something had he been there.

If so, would her mother still be alive?

She knew that wasn’t a good way of thinking and that it was unlikely to make much of a difference, but it didn’t change the fact that those thoughts lingered in her mind.

Had Baring never given any thought to it?

Knowing her brother, he probably had not. That was just not the kind of thing that he put much energy into considering. He had also probably been more eager to get their father back, even if the man she had met had not been a father to her.

I never had a father.

Not the way Baring had. Baring had memories of him, and he had known their father in ways she had not. Maybe that was part of the reason he had felt a desire to get more involved with him, to let him back into his life. But Ellie was not going to make that same mistake.

She looked over and saw Tabitha watching her. Tabitha likely had a good idea about the kinds of thoughts that were working through her mind.

“Let’s go in, see if we can’t find Byron and the Empyreans,” Ellie said. “Because if we are going to have to worry about the Servants on the way back to Busal City, it would be helpful to travel in a larger group.” That was really all it would be. She didn’t truly expect that they would be able to defend her. Not against what she had dealt with when it came to the Servants. She had seen Jerath fight, after all. The ability that man possessed was beyond what even the most skilled of the Empyreans had been able to do. But there was safety in numbers, and that, more than anything else, was what she thought would be beneficial.

They reached the outskirts of the city. Unlike Busal City’s demarcation between city and countryside, Buruketh’s edges blurred into the mountain landscape, with structures growing more densely packed as they approached. The outermost buildings were simple—workshops with open fronts where craftsmen shaped metal and wood, storage sheds for mountain traders’ goods, and small farmhouses with stone foundations that had withstood countless winter storms. Narrow footpaths connected these scattered structures before eventually merging with wider roads paved with worn cobblestones.

The air carried mingled scents: woodsmoke from forges, the earthy aroma of livestock pens, and the sharp tang of pine resin from newly cut timber stacked next to buildings. People with weathered faces moved purposefully about their business, sparing only brief glances for travelers. Children played in the spaces between buildings, their shouts echoing against stone walls. Beyond the scattered structures, terraced garden plots clung to the hillsides, growing vegetables that could survive the mountain climate.

As they progressed deeper into the outskirts, signs of Buruketh’s age became more apparent—ancient stone foundations supporting newer structures, carved symbols above doorways whose meanings had been forgotten, and retaining walls built with massive stones that no modern builder could move. The mountain itself seemed to be part of the city here, with homes built directly against cliff faces and natural caves expanded into storage spaces. A stream tumbled down from higher elevations, channeled through stone gutters beside the road, providing water to the outskirts’ residents before continuing its journey into the heart of the city.

“How long do you think we have?” Tabitha asked.

Ellie frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t know the next time we’ll be back this way, and there are things I would love to see here. So how long do you think we have?”

“I don’t know. We might as well stay for the night.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we know a place,” Tabitha said.

“And you? Where are you wanting to go?”

“I would like to visit the archives. I didn’t get that much time in them before, if you recall.”

“Sorry about that,” Ellie said.

“Oh, I’m not. Well, I am sorry that I didn’t have more time to spend there, but I’m not sorry that you took me with you. I am glad I was able to observe.” Tabitha snorted. “There are things I’m going to need to report back as well. You aren’t the only one who is expected to return with answers.”

“I hope you will be somewhat discreet about what you share.”

“Somewhat.” Tabitha glanced over to Ralen. “Can I trust that you will keep her company in the meantime?”

Ellie scoffed. “I don’t need⁠—”

“I intend to stay the night,” Ralen said, “so if you are concerned about me abandoning her, you need not be.”

“Good. Maybe the two of you should get to know each other a little bit better. Talk. Especially if we are heading in the same direction.” Tabitha grinned, almost as if she had made a joke that only she understood. She turned and strode away, whistling.

“How far are we heading in the same direction?” Ellie asked.

“I intend to travel into Busal,” he said.

“All the way to the harbor?”

“It is one of the easiest ways to travel,” Ralen said, seeming to consider.

“Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be a challenge?”

“I have no interest in challenging you, but perhaps I can use it to try to convince you.”

“Of what?”

“Of being open to learning more about how you can help,” he said.

“How I can help?” Ellie shook her head. “Did my father put you up to it?”

“I don’t know him that well, so no.”

“Good. Because I serve Busal and the king. I don’t intend to serve the Arbiters, too.”

“And if I were to tell you that serving them would allow you to do even more in service to your country?” Ralen asked.

“Well, I’m not sure that I care.”

But even as she said it, Ellie knew that was a lie. More than that, she also knew that by the time she got to Busal City and reported to Dorian, he might even be inclined to encourage her to learn more about the Arbiters. Because Dorian always wanted to have access to as much power, and as much knowledge, as possible.

She suspected that he would feel that the Arbiters had both.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you to the tavern. You’re buying.”

“I am, am I?”

Ellie started forward. “I seem to recall making sure you survived an attack, so you owe us. Me. You’re buying.”

Ralen laughed softly. “Fair enough.”

Chapter

Three

The tavern was quiet and dimly lit, with arcane lanterns casting a warm amber glow across weathered wooden tables. The ceiling beams hung low, darkened by decades of smoke from the hearth at the far end where a fire crackled. Patrons clustered in small groups—mostly merchants and travelers, judging by their varied dress—their conversations creating a gentle murmur beneath the minstrel’s melody. Several barmaids moved efficiently between tables, carrying trays of ale and plates of steaming food. The walls were adorned with faded tapestries depicting local legends, their colors muted by years of dust and tavern smoke.

Ralen sat across from her with a mug but hadn’t taken a drink. Ellie smiled at that, mostly because she understood the reason he hesitated—he was waiting on her to drink first.

“It’s safe,” she said. “The ale is good here.”

“It’s not the ale.”

His gaze kept darting to the other end of the tavern where the minstrel played. Ellie laughed softly to herself. How much did he really know about the Guild? Then again, the same could be said for her. How much did she really know about the Guild?

“You don’t like the minstrel?” she asked.

He was an older man, with glasses that kept slipping down his face as he strummed the instrument—the name of which eluded Ellie—and seemed to ignore the distractions all around him. She had been using her ability to test if she could pick up on anything he was doing, and if there was any part of it that might suggest he was part of the Guild. From her experience, members of the Guild had access to certain types of power, and not only the fabricated kind. That was one type, but not the only power.

“I’m cautious with minstrels.” He looked over at her. “You seem to be the same way, though.”

She shrugged and took a drink, then leaned back in her chair. She had the wall behind her, positioned so that she could survey the entire place. The tavern had a raised section where several private booths offered more secluded seating. Ellie had chosen the corner booth, so the wall protected her back while giving her a clear view of both the main entrance and the service door that led to the kitchens. From here, she could observe everyone who entered without drawing attention to herself. The worn wooden table between them bore the scars of countless patrons—knife marks, rings from mugs, and even what looked like burn patterns from some long-ago fabrication accident.

“I might be,” Ellie said. “But then, it seems to me that you are not just cautious.”

“The Guild seeks to involve themselves in places, and in ways, that they should not,” Ralen said.

“And we get to decide how they should or should not involve themselves?”

“Yes.”

Ellie smiled tightly. “You know, I wonder what some of the Guild members that I have met would say about that.”

“From what I understand, you have some experience with Benjamin and Garridan.” He said it casually, but did it in such a way that it caught her off guard.

She didn’t know if the Guild members considered their names secretive, yet she assumed that they did. And it was more than that.

“Among others,” she said.

He chuckled. “Others? How many others?”

“How many others do you know?”

“Not as many as I would like.” Ralen breathed out heavily. “We can be honest with each other, or we cannot.”

“Considering how much you have kept from me, and what it seems that you continue to keep from me, I’m not sure that you demanding honesty is reasonable.”

“But what I have kept from you has been necessary.”

“What you view as necessary,” Ellie said.

“What would you like to know?”

“I would like to know more about the Arbiters.”

“We seek to offer protection.” His gaze drifted to toward the minstrel. Ellie didn’t think the minstrel was part of the Guild, but she understood the implication regardless. “We take a different approach to it.”

“By dealing with people like the Servants.”

“Them, and others. I believe you had some issues in Busal City five or so years ago?”

“You weren’t involved in that,” she said.

“Are you so sure?”

“You weren’t. The Guild was.” Ellie took a drink and leaned back again with a frown. “But you knew that. You weren’t in Busal City, but you might have been involved in what happened to the fabricators that were trading with Kor.” As far as Ellie had learned, they had acquired some powerful mineral that had allowed for incredible fabrications. She had thought that the Guild had dealt with it, but maybe there had been more to it. “From the lack of expression on your face, I take it that I have it right.”

“You have it more or less right. Tracking those fabrications, along with others, continued to lead toward particular findings.”

“What about the Sacred Souls?” Ellie asked.

Ralen shot her a look that seemed to demand silence. She ignored it. She wasn’t going to be quiet just because he wanted her to.

“Dangerous topic, especially here.”

“I think we dealt with the priests, so I don’t think we have much to be concerned about,” she said. “Plus, considering that the Servants have vanished⁠—”

“They are not gone. If I’m not mistaken, they will probably plague us on the journey to Busal City.”

“You think we have to be careful with them?”

“Until you are properly prepared,” he said.

“How so?”

He tipped his head to the side slightly as he studied her. “You are more than just a Blade, but you have started to see that.”

Ellie said nothing. She knew he was implying the power she had started to feel on the journey. She still wasn’t entirely sure what it was, only that there was burning energy that was tied to it, and according to her father, it was tied to what he had gifted her. The problem was that she didn’t have any interest in working with him or learning from him. She might benefit from understanding what it meant for her to have that power, but she also needed to better understand how to wield the other side of herself—the Blade side—which Ralen could teach her.

“You could help,” she finally said.

“I will do what I can. I may be limited.”

“Because you’re not permitted to share everything?”

He offered a smile, and he certainly became much more handsome when he did. Although, even when he had a serious expression on his face, he was still a handsome man. “It’s not that I’m not permitted, so much as it is a limitation of time,” Ralen explained. “There are things that you would like to learn, I presume, that will take time for you to do. I can teach, but only so quickly, and we may need to go our separate ways before I have an opportunity to share all that you would like to learn. Unless…”

“Are you suggesting I come with you?” Ellie asked, a playful smile curling her lips. “We don’t know each other that well, Ralen.”

“That’s not what I’m implying,” he said.

“Well, too bad.” She took another drink and then got up. “You’re right. I need to know what you know. I’m a fast learner, so while we travel, I hope that you will continue to work with me. But now that I’ve eaten,” she went on, looking down at the empty tray of food on her table, “and had a mug of ale, I’m going to take a look and see if I can’t find my people.”

“It may be dangerous for you in the city.”

“Oh, it might be, but I doubt it.”

Ralen arched a brow. “You think the threat is truly neutralized.”

“No, I just think that Jerath and his people will have gone into hiding for a while. I bet they feel like they have to avoid attracting attention. Not just from me, but now that they know about the Arbiters and your involvement, I imagine they will be more cautious.”

She stepped out of the tavern. Outside, evening had settled over the city. Arcane lanterns flickered to life along the main thoroughfares, their bluish glow highlighting the cobblestones still damp from an earlier rain. The air carried the mingled scents of cooking fires, spiced wine from nearby food stalls, and the ever-present tang of smoke. Merchants were closing up their shops, metal shutters clanging as they were pulled down. A few determined traders still called out their wares to passersby—trinkets and small fabrications that glittered enticingly in the failing light. In the distance, bells rang out the hour from one of the city’s many towers.

A prickle of awareness made Ellie pause near a narrow alley mouth. Someone was watching her—she could feel their gaze like a weight between her shoulder blades. She pretended to adjust her cloak while scanning the street.

There. A figure in dark clothes lingered in the shadows of a doorway across from her, positioned to have a clear view of the tavern entrance. They shifted when they realized she’d spotted them, and Ellie caught a glimpse of pale features before they melted back into the darkness.

She moved casually along the street, letting her Blade ability ripple outward in subtle waves to track their movement. The figure paralleled her path, staying to the shadows, maintaining distance but following too deliberately to be coincidence.

When she reached a busier intersection, Ellie ducked down a cross street and immediately pressed herself against a wall, drawing her senses inward to suppress her magical signature the way Zaren had taught her. Her pursuer passed by moments later, hesitating at the corner. They were good—she’d give them that. Better than the usual street thieves or casual observers. But their technique had a familiar rhythm to it, almost like she’d felt it before.

She shook her head. No time for speculation. Whoever they were, they’d lost her trail. She waited until they moved on before continuing through the now-quiet streets.

When she had first come to Buruketh, Ellie had been on edge, not certain what she needed to do or what she was going to find. Now that the mission was mostly over and it was merely about returning, she felt more strongly that she should be able to find Byron, and the rest of the Empyreans, so that she could bring them with her. Assuming they were still here.

She moved through side streets where the buildings leaned toward each other, their upper stories nearly touching and blocking much of the remaining daylight. Here, the pedestrian traffic thinned considerably. Residents hurried home, clutching packages and children’s hands. A group of young apprentices passed by, their clothing marked with the distinct patterns of their respective guilds. Occasionally, constables patrolled in pairs, their fabricated badges glinting as they passed under the streetlights. Dogs rummaged through discarded food in the gutters, scattering when Ellie approached.

She paused, and she pushed out again using her Blade ability, extending her awareness. That was all she needed to do. Awareness only. Test whether there was anything out here that she could feel, and hope that there would be a hint of power.

Within a city like this, there was always power. She felt some trace of it, enough so that she was aware that there were hundreds of fabrications present. Most, she was able to easily ignore. Not all, though. There was some lingering energy that reminded her of the Inarak power she found in Busal City, only this felt a little bit older, if that were even possible. She had noticed it when she had first come to Buruketh, though she had not tested it fully. Even if she were to try, Ellie didn’t know if there would be anything here to detect anyway, so she continued to move through the streets.

She kept pushing out, feeling for fabrications, straining to see if there might be other familiar senses, and then she had it.

It was vague, but it was definitely there.

She swept along an alleyway. Maybe it was dangerous for her to head this way, especially into a darkened area she didn’t know, but this was where she felt the familiar fabrication.

Ellie picked her way through increasingly unfamiliar territory, where the neat streets gave way to uneven pathways that twisted between buildings of varying heights and states of repair. The neighborhood grew quieter, with fewer open shops and more shuttered windows. Twice she had to double back when passages ended unexpectedly in walled courtyards. The scent of the harbor grew stronger here—salt air and rotting seaweed carried on the breeze—suggesting she was nearing the city’s edge. Shadowy figures occasionally appeared in doorways, only to retreat as she passed, her purposeful stride and visible weapons clearly marking her as someone to avoid.

She reached the top of the hillside, and then she paused. From here she could tell that the fabrication had stopped moving. She hadn’t realized that it was moving so much before. Now, however, she noticed some part of it.

“Just stay still,” she muttered.

She picked up her pace. If it was Byron—and she thought that it had to be, especially because of her familiarity with it—then she wondered what he was doing.

At one point, she came across locals who started toward her. Ellie pulled out her pair of blades, twirled them, and offered a tight-lipped smile. The men immediately change directions.

She snorted. So much for street thieves. Unless they had serious magic, nobody in a city like this was going to pose much of a danger to her. Maybe that was what Ralen was concerned about, but Ellie didn’t think that anything could cause her too much difficulty, or too much discomfort. So she moved on and continued to test whether there was anything here that she was going to be able to pick up. The fabrication finally stopped moving.

She hurried forward and found a brightly lit section of the city. A small square opened before her, a cluster of arcane lanterns casting it in overlapping pools of light. Unlike the blue-tinged illumination of the main streets, these lanterns glowed a warm amber, suggesting private funding rather than city maintenance. The square was bounded by buildings of varying heights—some as tall as four stories, their windows gleaming with interior light. At the center stood a modest fountain where water trickled from the outstretched hands of a stone figure that might have represented one of the Sacred Souls, though time and weather had worn its features smooth. Several people lingered in the square, conversing in low voices or hurrying across to destinations beyond. The pulse of fabricated energy that had drawn her here was stronger now, centered on a cloaked figure standing near the fountain’s edge.

She moved forward, and when the figure spun, she braced and brought her blade up, only to smile.

“You can relax, Byron,” she said.

Byron pulled the hood of his cloak back. He took a step into the light, regarding her. “Ellie? Sacred Souls, but I’ve been trying to find you.”

“You knew we were here?”

“I caught a glimpse of Tabitha. Didn’t know if I actually saw her or not until I saw her again later in the day. Never was able to really follow her because she tends to move quickly. Almost too quickly, you know?” He shrugged. “It was frustrating knowing that you were probably with her.”

“Actually, I wasn’t. She decided she wanted to go to the archives in town, figuring that she would find some information here.”

“So you just let her go by herself?”

“She’s an adult, and she is a scholar who has to complete her studies,” Ellie said, straightening. She realized she was still holding her blades ready, and she hurriedly slipped them into the sheaths at her side. “Besides, when she tried to do that before, I sort of interrupted, and she didn’t get a chance to finish whatever it was that she was researching. I figure I owe her.”

“You’re just wandering the city on your own?”

“I am now, but I wasn’t by myself.”

“You found him? Baring, that is?”

“I did, but he didn’t come back with me.” She was not going to tell Byron about everything just yet.

“Then somebody else? I thought you were concerned about this other person who attacked you.”

“Oh, he’s gone. Maybe dead. I don’t know. Although, come to think of it, I don’t really think he died. I just think he managed to get away. But he is gone for now, and ideally won’t bother us for a little while. Anyway, I came looking for you. Hopefully, you still have the Empyreans with you because we should be making our way back to Busal City. I need to report to the king, and I don’t know what we might encounter on the journey back.”

“Well, would you look at this,” he said. “Ellie is actually asking for help?”

“I ask for help,” she snapped.

“I know you do. I’m just teasing. We were going to head back, but I convinced the Empyreans to give you a few days. I had no idea what we might find, but I figured the king wouldn’t want us to return without you. Once I said that, the others decided that was probably wise.” He flashed a smile. “They know that King Dorian would not want Lady Ellie to be harmed.”

She slipped her arm into his and dragged him forward. “Come on, Byron. “Let’s get out of the square. We can make whatever arrangements we need to make and get started back. In the meantime, there’s someone you need to meet. Apparently he’s going to be traveling with us for a little while, and I need you to keep an eye on him.”

“Why?”

“Only because he is more powerful than Zaren, and more skilled than me. So, think you can keep an eye on him?”

“Sacred Souls, Ellie. What have you gotten mixed up in now?”

“You can blame Dorian for this, not me.” Only maybe it wasn’t just Dorian’s fault. It was tied to her family, wasn’t it?

She found Byron watching her, and she forced a smile. She wasn’t going to share that with him that, either. Not yet.

Maybe not ever. She would need to report it to Dorian, but he was the only one she needed to tell.

Chapter

Four

Dawn found them in the stables on the outskirts of Buruketh, preparing for the journey back to Busal City. As she adjusted her saddle, Ellie sensed Ralen’s presence behind her. They mounted their horses, joining Byron, Tabitha, and the Empyreans at the city gate. During their ride out onto the mountain road that would take them back to Busal, Ellie felt a strange sensation—the weight of unseen eyes watching their departure.

She turned, scanning the rooftops and shadows, but saw nothing. Yet the feeling persisted.

“Something wrong?” Byron asked, noticing her vigilance.

“No.” She turned back to the road ahead. “Just eager to get back.”

They gradually made their way down the mountain and into flatter lands, where they would eventually reach Busal proper. The descent revealed the ancient trade road, carved into the mountainside centuries ago, that switched back and forth down steep slopes, each turn offering a different perspective of the landscape below. Behind them, the jagged peaks of the Nirthaal Mountains thrust upward, their snowcapped summits occasionally disappearing into banks of clouds that drifted across the range.

The thin mountain air slowly thickened, carrying new scents: pine resin from the evergreen forests that cloaked the lower slopes, wild herbs crushed beneath their horses’ hooves, and the earthy dampness of streams that carved silvery paths down ravines.

The terrain softened with each passing hour. Bare rock and scree gave way to alpine meadows dotted with tiny purple blooms and white stars that somehow thrived in the thin soil. Farther down, these meadows surrendered to the first scattered trees of the pine forest, their needles releasing fragrant oils that perfumed the warming air.

From certain vantage points along the paths, they could glimpse farmlands in the distant foothills—patchwork squares of green and gold that marked the beginning of Busal’s more fertile territories. On the horizon, just barely visible through the morning haze, lay the suggestion of plains that would eventually lead them home to Busal City.

The Empyreans rode with watchful vigilance, their eyes constantly scanning the slopes above and the forests below. Byron stayed close to her, glancing from time to time at Ralen, as if trying to work out a puzzle.

“Get on with it,” she said to him.

Byron let out a sigh. “I’m not sure there is anything to say. I understand what you’re doing, even if I don’t understand why you’re doing it. But who is he?”

“I don’t fully know,” she said, though she did, or at least she increasingly felt like she did. “He is somebody who has a power like mine, but it seems to be better developed.”

“You hope to learn from him?”

She shrugged slightly. “Would that be so bad?”

“No. I know that Zaren always wanted to learn from anybody who had a similar ability, to keep improving, but I just want you to be careful.”

She arched a brow. “You want me to be careful?”

“You have a tendency to be a bit… impulsive.”

“Do I, now?”

“You also have a tendency to be stubborn.”

“Well, both of those comments are true enough, and neither of them make much difference.”

“So you’re just going to do what you want?” Byron asked.

“I’m going to get answers, and if it involves me training with Ralen—assuming that he’s willing to train with me”—Ellie didn’t have any confirmation of that just yet, but she hoped that he would—“I need to learn. Especially if we are dealing with something greater than what we have seen in Busal before.”

That seemed to comfort Byron, or at least it made him stop arguing.

They camped for the night, the moon shining bright, nearly full, with traces of silver shafts along the ground. The cool air gusted out of the north, swirling away from the mountains and causing a hint of a chill to work down her spine. Ellie tried to ignore it, but she couldn’t shake it entirely.

Their campsite was nestled in a sheltered hollow where the mountain path began its descent toward the lowlands, offering some respite from the persistent wind. The Empyreans had established a perimeter with practiced efficiency—three small fires arranged in a triangle, their flames carefully contained by rings of stone gathered from the nearby slope. Horses were picketed on the most level ground, where patches of mountain grass provided meager grazing.

Byron had positioned himself between Ellie’s group and the main contingent of soldiers, his presence serving as a bridge between the king’s forces and the unusual allies they’d acquired. Ralen kept to the edges of the firelight, his silver-blue eyes occasionally reflecting the flames as he scanned the darkness beyond the camp’s boundaries. Makeshift bedrolls had been arranged near the central fire, where Tabitha had already spread several maps and notes, using stones to keep them from fluttering away in the night breeze. The mountains loomed behind them like silent guardians, while far below, the first glimmers of lights from distant farmsteads reminded them how far they still had to travel before reaching Busal City.

Tabitha sat next to Ellie, documenting something in her journal. Sitting across the fire from them was Ralen, who had been quiet ever since they had camped. She had the sense he didn’t like that they were camping, though she had made it quite clear that they were not going to go into any of the towns, and she did not want to have any sort of experience in the cities like what she had dealt with before.

“Go on,” Ellie said.

Ralen blinked, and even Tabitha looked up.

“Are you talking to me?” Ralen asked.

“I am. You claim that you can work with me and teach me. So, go on.”

He shuffled closer to them, and he looked across the fire to Tabitha first before turning his attention to Ellie. “You aren’t concerned about her—or them—hearing?”

“I’ve told Tabitha what it is that we do and how we do it. The others also serve the king, so I don’t necessarily care what they hear.” Especially not Byron, who already knew most of what they might talk about.

“Some of these things are meant to be kept secret,” Ralen said.

“Of course they are. Because the techniques are so useful to those who don’t have the ability.”

He was quiet for a moment, staring at the flames without looking up at her. “Unfortunately,” he eventually said, “there are some things that can be copied. There are others who have already demonstrated the ability to do so, and have proven that they can use what we can do.”

Ellie wanted to argue, but she had seen the truth to that. There had been another circumstance when something similar had been the case, and because of that, she knew better than to dismiss it. She hadn’t confronted the traitor Waleith herself, as her mentor Zaren had been the one to deal with him, but when Waleith had targeted the city, he had used something similar. Maybe not true mimicry, not like what she had seen, but according to Zaren, Waleith had not been a Blade the way Zaren was, even though he had recognized the power, the connection, and had been able to use some element of it to make it appear as if he was.

“Your hesitation tells me that you have some experience with it,” Ralen said.

“Because you’re a fabrication breaker, you know.”

He smiled slightly. “I do have a pretty good idea about that, because my people like to talk. And it seems to me that there have been other difficulties in your land that have been tied to that.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ellie said. She didn’t have experience with anything else, so she didn’t know whether that was true, but she had to question if perhaps that was the case. What if Waleith had been somehow connected to the Mimics?

Not that it mattered any longer. He was long gone from the city, and the threat that he posed was no longer the same as it had been before, but there was part of her that wondered whether it would’ve been useful for her to at least track down some additional information, to try to better understand more about what he had done and whether there was a way to deal with that threat more effectively than what she had seen. Maybe she would also be able to gather some information about them.

Waleith had been captured, after all. Zaren hadn’t known what to do with him, nor how to hold him, and had sent him away with the Guild.

Maybe that was an aspect to everything that she needed to track down because it might help her understand more about this.

“Regardless of your concern about Tabitha,” she said to Ralen, “I don’t think you need to be worried that she is going to betray our secrets. She’s a documentarian for the Crown, and I would share with her anything that you share with me. So consider that as you decide what you want to tell me.”

Ralen looked as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say, then nodded to himself.

“Fair enough. We can start with a simple exercise. I want you to focus on the deep energy inside yourself.”

Ellie barked out a laugh. “I know how to reach for my own power.”

“I’m not saying that you don’t. I’m just saying that I want you to start with this exercise, and I promise you that we will get much more complex.”

She resisted the temptation to argue with him.

She had learned to access her power at an early age. Her mother had been her first teacher, but not intentionally, as Ellie had developed her own innate ability, which her mother had not been thrilled to learn. Still, as Ellie had gradually begun to develop her power, her mother had helped her understand how to control it, even if Ellie still wasn’t sure what it meant. Later, she had learned other ways of controlling the same ability.

“All right,” she said. “I’ve reached for it.”

“Good. Now start to ease that connection into your fingers and toes.”

“That’s not how it works,” Ellie said.

“Consider this an exercise, nothing more than that. You are pushing out with your awareness, that is all.”

She had done exercises like this with others, but she didn’t recall pushing anything into her fingers and toes. Maybe that was the problem. She had never truly gained mastery over what she needed to.

“All right,” Ellie said.

As she extended her awareness like he asked, she started to notice things that she had not before. She could feel the tingle of the fabrication that had been used to ignite the flames. She could feel the fabrication in the pen Tabitha was using. There was even a fabrication in her notebook, and a dozen more that Tabitha had spread out around her. Unlike with her scholarly interest, Tabitha had always seemed intrigued by fabrications, how they were constructed, and how best to use them.

More than anything, Ellie became aware of the power Ralen possessed.

“Good. Most take longer the first time,” he said.

“What makes you think this is my first time with this technique?”

“Fine. Now you have to find a pattern of movement with it. Have you done that?”

That made her pause.

“Pattern?” Ellie asked. “There aren’t any patterns of movement.”

“No?”

With that, a surge of energy built, exploding suddenly from him. It was almost as if he had erupted with power. The suddenness, and the force, of it was remarkable. Then he tamped down on it.

“What did you feel there?” Ralen asked.

“You’re suppressing it.”

It was more than just that, though. He suppressed it so skillfully that she now felt nothing from him.

“No,” he said. “It’s a flow, and finding the flow—using your own—is the key to how you will gain real mastery. Not the kind you had before.”

“I’d love to see you say that to my mentor,” she muttered.

Zaren was a hulking man, more massive than anyone else she had ever met. But though he was strong, even magically, he didn’t have this level of control.

She needed to learn this from Ralen.

“There are levels to it,” Ralen said, his voice low. “Surface techniques like suppression and amplification. Flow control, which you’ve started to feel. Then deeper patterns—resonance, pulse shaping, energy folding. Most never reach that point. But you… you’ve already begun to step past the first threshold.”

Ellie frowned. “You make it sound like a path. A curriculum.”

“For those who survive long enough, it is. Now, just try it,” he said.

So she did, but as she attempted to do what he asked, it didn’t work. She let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not working.”

“That’s not uncommon. Focus on the deep energy,” he said, his breath warm near her ear as he adjusted her stance. Ellie’s concentration wavered—from her proximity to him, not from the difficulty with the technique. “Which is why I had wanted you to try to expand your awareness into your fingers and your toes. The first time you begin to create a rhythm inside of yourself, it is difficult. Yet the fact that you were able to quickly do this, and to quickly form your own understanding of that power, tells me that this shouldn’t be that challenging for you. Continue extending into your fingers and toes, and then withdraw it.”

That didn’t sound that difficult. The process was slow, but it worked. As she felt energy moving through her, she could feel a flow, but there wasn’t anything else to it. Not like she had hoped.

“It’s not changing anything,” she admitted.

“But is it moving?” Ralen asked.

“Seems to be.”

“Then you have to create your own pattern,” he said. “This part I’m not exactly sure I’m going to be able to help you with. The pattern allows you to create a cycle of energy, and as you begin to cycle it, and as you begin to feel that, you will notice that there is a change to how the other powers around you begin to feel. Some people,” he went on, and the way he said it suggested that he meant himself, “learn to shift the patterns, and it is that shifting that allows them to pick up on different constructs of energy. Eventually, you will start to identify how things feel, and be able to know what it is that you are picking up on just from the sense it gives off.”

Ellie withdrew her own power, allowing it to bounce back into the center of herself. “I’ve always been able to feel that. That’s what I was trained to do.”

“You are trying to do it on a larger scale. What I’m asking, and suggesting, is something on a smaller scale.”

That didn’t make complete sense to Ellie because it felt like she should have more control by using more power while he suggested that she had less. But at this point, if he was going to work with her, shouldn’t she try to learn as much as possible to understand what it was that he was able to do?

“So,” she said, “if I’m able to find a way to spin this power through me and cycle it, as you’re describing, I would be able to feel a little more than what I can otherwise?”

Ralen nodded. “Exactly. It allows you the opportunity to feel things differently than what you otherwise do.” He shrugged. “Once you get the pattern down and feel the connection, the next step is understanding how that pattern works, and to feel the way it flows so that you can start to grasp some of the true connection that exists.”

Ralen glanced toward the Empyreans, their suspicious gazes reflecting the campfire as they watched him intently. He lowered his voice. “Let me teach you something more practical. There are three fundamental pulse styles that will serve you well.”

He demonstrated with his hand, making a quick flicking motion. “Quick pulses, like ripples in a still pond—these are for detection. They move out fast and return information without disturbing what they touch.”

Ellie tried to mimic the motion, sending a quick pulse outward. She felt the energy scatter out from her in a rapid wave, bringing back impressions of the camp—the fabrications on the soldiers and Tabitha’s notebook, and even a faint residue of power on Byron’s sword that she hadn’t noticed before.

“Good,” Ralen said, his eyebrows lifting slightly in surprise. “Now try this.” He moved his hand in a slower, continuous wave. “Steady waves create protective barriers. They don’t just detect—they interact, pushing against other energies.”

Ellie concentrated, focusing on the rhythm of her own power. She tried to create the steady wave pattern, and for a moment she felt resistance, like pushing through thick mud. Then something clicked, and she felt her power flow outward in a continuous, rolling pattern that formed an invisible bubble around her.

One of the Empyreans shifted uncomfortably, his hand moving to his sword hilt. He could feel it, apparently.

“Impressive,” Ralen murmured. “Most can’t manage that on a first attempt.”

Suddenly, a distant howl echoed across the mountains, freezing everyone in place. Ralen’s head snapped toward the sound, his hand reaching for his sword. The Empyreans rose and drew their weapons. The horses nickered nervously and pulled at their tethers.

Ellie held her breath, extending her awareness in a quick pulse to scan beyond the camp. Whatever had made that sound was far away—but getting closer.

“Wolves?” Byron asked, though the doubt in his voice suggested he knew better.

“Not wolves,” Ralen said quietly, then he looked to Ellie. “Did you feel anything?”

She shook her head. “Nothing specific. Just… something moving.”

They waited in tense silence for several long moments. When no further sounds came, the soldiers gradually relaxed, though they kept their weapons close.

“We should continue,” Ralen said, easing back toward the fire. “But perhaps we should work more quietly.”

“What’s the third?” Ellie asked, her voice low.

“Sharp bursts.” He made a jabbing motion with his fingers. “For when you need to disrupt a fabrication or another power. It’s like hammering a chisel into stone—focused, intense, and brief.”

Ellie concentrated, gathering her energy into a tight coil before releasing it in a single concentrated burst toward a small stone near the fire. The pebble jumped slightly, as if struck by an invisible finger.

Ralen’s eyes widened. “That’s impressive progress.” He leaned back, studying her with new interest. “Your ability to adapt is remarkable. Your mentor taught you well.”

She could see something in his eyes—a recalculation. He hadn’t expected her to pick up the techniques so quickly.

The Empyreans had noticed, too. They’d grown tenser, their hands never straying far from their weapons. One whispered something to his commander, who shook his head firmly while keeping his eyes on Ralen.

“They don’t trust me,” Ralen said quietly.

“They’re just being cautious,” Ellie replied. “They don’t know you. I don’t know you. You said you spent time with the Arbiters, but you were a fabrication breaker. What happened? How did you get involved with them?”

He was quiet for a moment. And in that moment, he looked as if he was trying to decide how much he wanted to share. When he looked up, he held Ellie’s gaze. “I lost some people. It was difficult at the time because I thought I could help. I thought I knew enough, and that my growing ability—what you refer to as your Blade ability—would have been enough for them. Unfortunately, in my case, it was not. I failed them.”

He had failed? Ellie felt like there were times she couldn’t do enough, and she didn’t have anything near his ability. “That’s why you got involved with the Arbiters?”

“I got involved because they offered me a way to understand what happened…” His voice trailed off.

Ellie understood not to push, but she also was curious. There was something more about him, and about what he had gone through, that she couldn’t help but feel as if she needed to know, if only to understand the man a little bit better. She wondered what had happened to him, and why that had driven him to work with the Arbiters.

Maybe that wasn’t something she would be able to ask him, though.

“What else can I do with it?” she asked, changing the topic.

“You want another lesson?”

“You obviously don’t know her that well,” Tabitha said. “Ellie is the kind of person who’s going to push you for more even when she’s had a tableful. So give her a little bit more.”

“How do you shield yourself?” Ellie asked Ralen.

“How do I do it, or how can you do it?”

“I already know how I can do it.”

“You do it by suppressing what you are, which is a mistake,” he said. “It leaves you vulnerable, and it leaves you unable to identify powers moving around you.”

She frowned. That was exactly what she did, and the way she controlled that connection, because it was the only way she knew how. Was he saying that there was a way to shroud herself, and to do so without suppressing her connection?

If so, that would be incredibly valuable.

“So?” she urged.

Ralen snorted. “If you’re looking for some secret, the only one I think I could offer you is that you need to learn how to cycle. As you learn that, you can do so with a weak sort of energy, and with the right type of cycle, you can do so in a way where others would not even be able to identify you were doing it in the first place.”

That surprised her, and yet should it?

It was all connected.

Maybe what he was teaching her was some sort of basic technique that was different than what she had known. But if that were the case, why would one of the fabrication breakers have ever taught her that?

“The fabrication breakers from Ardem never taught that way,” Ellie said.

“No,” Ralen said. “Everyone who has this ability has their own way of explaining it. The fabrication breakers, as you call them, use their own techniques, and your Blades use others. It is basic and can serve as a building block to continue to develop. And if you are going to confront the Servants, or perhaps even consider serving as an Arbiter,” he went on, arching a brow at her, “you will need to expand beyond the basics.”

She was quiet as she listened to the crackling of the flames and watched the fire burn. She felt for some of the fabrications and some of the energy that was around her, and even as she did, she attempted to cycle her power, finding it more difficult than just pressing the power out to her fingers and toes. If it was simply a matter of using this technique, then expanding on it, it was going to take practice.

“But Zaren helped. I was there when he did it,” she said.

Ralen said nothing, then finally nodded. “I know the stories, but I wasn’t there at the time. I was training. From what I understand, he did help, and there were some who wanted to teach him this technique so that he could continue to grow.” He shrugged. “Perhaps if he would’ve stayed in Busal City, he may have gained even more trust, and others may have shared with him. I believe that those who had come to the city had already started to feel as if there was more they could, and should, offer him. But he left before he had a chance to be given that opportunity.”

He watched Ellie, and she started to laugh. “If you think I know where he’s gone,” she said, “you’re the one who’s mistaken now.”

“You don’t know?”

“No. And if I did, I’m not so sure I would tell you.”

Ellie tried the quick pulse technique again, sending ripples of power through the air around them. One of the Empyreans flinched, his eyes darting to his commander.

“Keep practicing,” Ralen instructed, leaning closer to the fire. “But perhaps with less intensity until we’re somewhere more private.”

The hard part for Ellie was that everything he said made a certain sense. The idea that Zaren could have learned more was true. He was incredibly skilled, strong, potent, and capable. Things that Ellie had appreciated from him. When he had been in the city, she had especially appreciated it because it had seemed as if she could have learned it from him and uncovered more about what she might be able to do. But after he had left, she had continued to work, grow, and try to understand her ability, and in the process, she had started to make sense of her power, her connection, and her own way of wielding that.

So now…

Now Ellie didn’t even know if there was anything else, or any other way, that she was going to need to do anything differently. The only thing she knew with any real certainty was that what she had done, and the power she had wielded in the past, was basic compared to what Ralen could do. Did it have to be, though?

She would work with this. She would master this.

And she would have him teach her more.

Later that night, as the camp settled into uneasy quiet, Ellie noticed Ralen sitting apart from the others, his eyes fixed on the darkness beyond their fires. His hands moved in subtle patterns—cycling, she realized—his awareness expanding outward while the Empyreans watched with barely concealed distrust.

She wondered what he was sensing out there in the night, and why her own progress with these techniques had surprised him so much. There was clearly more to all of this than what he was telling her.

Chapter

Five

“I’m glad we’re finally back down into the outskirts of Busal,” Tabitha said. She looked over to Ellie, who had been practicing the cycling technique Ralen had shown her, and had found that it was slow, but steadily effective as well. “I’ve been waiting for the moment that we finally get back down into this part of the world again. It’s almost like I can feel where we are.”

“Probably because you can,” Ralen said. “There are fabrications around Busal that you can likely detect, both recent and ancient.”

He wasn’t wrong. It was the recent ones that Ellie felt, but it was the ancient ones that she suspected were more significant. She hadn’t seen them, but she felt them, almost innately.

“Am I able to feel them because of the cycling of power that you’re trying to show me?” Ellie asked.

Ralen shrugged. “Perhaps. The technique is really more about familiarity. That is all.”

“Familiarity, or detection?”

“Familiarity. You need to work on control, gain speed, and then your ability to detect begins to improve.”

“Speed is important?” Tabitha asked. “You only told her that she needed to cycle that power.”

“The first step is getting a pattern,” he said.

They traveled in silence across the rolling grasslands, choosing a route that cut directly through the terrain rather than following the road. The wild countryside stretched before them, tall grasses swaying in the afternoon breeze, occasionally parting to reveal outcroppings of weathered stone that jutted from the earth. It had been Ellie’s suggestion to avoid the established path to avoid likely interaction with the Servants.

“Once you get the pattern down, then it is a matter of increasing the frequency of it,” Ralen explained. “It’s like learning to walk and then learning to run. The difference is how far you can go. After a while, it becomes second nature.”

“So you want her to establish a pattern,” Tabitha said.

“She has to first understand that there needs to be a pattern, and once she does, and can do it consistently and effectively, the next step becomes trying to wield that power in a very different way.” He turned to Ellie. “You must then start to work it steadily, regularly, and with speed.”

Byron had been watching them, and she wondered what he was thinking. He had training as an Investigator, and like most of the Investigators, he had some potential for serving as a Blade but had never taken it further. Unlike most of the Investigators, though, Byron actually had some interest in it. Ellie guessed that if given an opportunity, he would be able to learn more about how to be a Blade.

Could he learn from Ralen and develop similar techniques?

Maybe.

The clearing they had chosen for her practice session lay in a shallow depression, sheltered by gnarled oak trees whose branches formed a natural canopy overhead. Dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating shifting patterns across the moss-covered ground. A small stream wound its way along one edge of the clearing, and its gentle murmuring provided a soothing sound. Stone outcroppings created natural seats where Ralen now perched, observing her with those unsettlingly intense eyes.

Ellie started to focus once again, cycling that power, working it out into her fingers and her toes, then drawing it back. It was like a sweep of waves, and she fell into a rhythm, sending it out and back, out and back. Once she found that rhythm, she started to increase the intensity. The moment that she did, and managed to do so with some control, Ellie started to feel something else that she had not before.

It was surprising how much easier it was for her to expand her reach this way. And this was after just a little bit of practice. What would happen after even more?

“I wonder why we’ve never been able to come up with this on our own,” she said softly.

“Most get complacent,” Ralen said. “At least, that’s been my experience. You learn what you can do, you learn to force your way through what you are doing and disrupt the power. There is a certain direct approach that is necessary. If you learn more subtle aspects of the approach, you can do more. But then, it is the cycling and the frequency—and the rhythm, perhaps—that is unique to each individual. It may be why you have not seen that before.”

That wasn’t dissimilar to what she had already known. The technique for each Blade was unique. How they detected things was unique. Could it be tied to the rhythm—this pattern—that he suggested?

She continued working, focusing on the power, and noticed that Byron was not too far from her. It was the reason she was distracted when the attack came without warning.

A low growl cut through the peaceful sounds of the clearing. Ellie’s head snapped up, her concentration broken. From between the trees, dark shapes slipped toward them. They weren’t quite wolves, though they moved with a predator’s grace, and they weren’t quite shadows, though their forms rippled and shifted as they advanced. Where their eyes should have been, cold blue lights gleamed.

“Sacred Souls,” Byron muttered, drawing his sword.

The Empyrean soldiers reacted instantly, forming a protective circle around them. Their blades flashed in the fading light as they prepared to face the threat. Ralen moved closer to Ellie, his own blade ready.

“Don’t,” Ralen said sharply to the others. “I don’t think your weapons will work.”

As if to prove his point, one of the shadow creatures lunged at the nearest Empyrean. The soldier slashed with his sword—and the blade passed harmlessly through the creature’s form, disturbing it no more than a stick passing through smoke. The creature snarled, its form condensing as it leaped, jaws open.

The soldier screamed as cold blue energy enveloped his arm.

A burst of power exploded from Ralen, and the creature let out a strange shriek before backing away.

Ellie knew what she had to do. She had to use the same rhythm she’d been practicing. This time, urgency pushed her past hesitation. She sent the energy pulsing outward, faster and stronger than she’d managed before.

The creature nearest her paused, its form rippling as if encountering an invisible barrier. It growled and pressed against the energy she was projecting, but couldn’t advance. Ellie concentrated harder, pushing her awareness into the cycling pattern. She visualized it expanding outward from her body in waves to create a barrier. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she forced herself to maintain the rhythm despite the creatures circling just beyond her reach. She’d never used her Blade ability quite like this—nor against anything quite like this.

Ralen darted between two of the creatures with impossible speed, his motions fluid and precise. Unlike the Empyreans, his blade seemed to find substance when it struck. The steel gleamed with a curious light where it connected, and the creatures recoiled with wailing cries.

One lunged at him, jaws snapping. Ralen twisted, striking downward with his sword. The creature dispersed into wisps of darkness before re-forming several paces away.

“Can you extend the barrier?” Tabitha asked Ellie.

“I’m trying. This… this is difficult.” She tried to expand the technique, pushing it outward to cover more of the clearing. As she did, however, its effectiveness weakened. Were she certain that she could help, she might join Ralen in the attack, but she didn’t know if there was even anything she could do.

One of the creatures rushed forward, slipping through her faltering energy. It leaped toward her, a blur of darkness.

A sudden flash of brilliance erupted from behind Ellie. The creature shrieked, its form dissolving under the assault of pure light. The other creatures recoiled and retreated toward the edges of the clearing.

Ellie turned to see Tabitha holding what appeared to be a small sphere, glowing with intense white light. Her jaw was clenched, her brow furrowed in determination—so unlike her usual demeanor.

“Light fabrication,” Tabitha said, her voice strained with concentration. “Something Jos gave you before we left. I’ve been cataloging the fabrications during the journey. Figured that these shadowy things are somehow dark, so maybe the light can help.”

The creatures continued to retreat from the light, their forms becoming less substantial. Ralen took advantage of their weakness, driving them farther back with precise strikes of his blade.

Ellie resumed her cycling, finding it easier to maintain now that the immediate threat had lessened. The rhythm felt natural, almost instinctive. The value of Ralen’s training suddenly became clear.

He worked his way around the clearing, flying with his blade and cutting through the creatures before backing away. So far, it didn’t seem as if he was injured, but there was something odd about how he attacked that left Ellie with questions about whether he had known that they might come across creatures like this.

“They’re leaving,” Byron said, not lowering his sword despite its proven ineffectiveness.

“Good. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold this,” Ellie said.

From the look on Ralen’s face, she wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hold out, either. He looked… exhausted.

The creatures retreated, and when the last of them had vanished, Ellie finally released the cycling pattern and sagged with exhaustion. Her hands tingled oddly, and faint traces of that same burning energy she’d experienced when fighting Jerath lingered in her fingers.

“What were those things?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Ralen sheathed his blade, his face grim. “Something not from this world.”

“From the fae realm?” Ellie looked to where one of the Empyreans was nursing a blackened arm where a hound had touched him.

“I don’t know, but the attack tells me that the Servants might be succeeding in what they are after. The boundaries are thinning. These are just the first signs—the small powers that slip through the cracks.”

Ellie stared at her hands, watching the burning energy slowly fade. “Why did my cycling work against them?”

“I don’t know.”

Based on the way Ralen said it and the expression on his face, she suspected there was more to it—and that he knew more than he let on.

As Tabitha carefully packed away her light fabrication and the rest of the Empyreans helped the wounded man, Ellie stared down at her hands again, where the faint traces of the burning power still remained. She flexed her fingers, remembering the strange energy that she’d felt.

Tabitha came to stand beside her. “Are you all right?”

Ellie was quiet for a long moment before answering. “I think so. I just…” She looked up at her friend. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I think I need to learn more.”

Tabitha smiled tightly. “Now you’re sounding like me.”

Ellie sighed. “When we get back to the city, I’ll talk to Dorian. Then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

The hard part was that, for the first time, she wasn’t sure Dorian would have answers.

Chapter

Six

As they neared Busal City, its natural protections began to bloom into Ellie’s awareness. They felt different, though. She slowed the horse and paused, focusing, then began to push and pull her ability out into her toes and fingers the way Ralen had suggested, feeling the shifting flow. She did so intentionally and then tried to increase the speed and the rhythm as she attempted to see if there would be a way for her to pick up on that in a different way, but unfortunately, it didn’t seem as if there was anything here that she could do, nor feel, quite as well as she wanted.

Near the bridge dividing the harbor from the upper district, Byron guided his horse alongside theirs, his fabricated marker of the Investigators glinting in the sunlight. The Empyreans who had accompanied them straightened in their saddles as they prepared to split from the group.

“I’ll report to Jos about what we found,” Byron said, his eyes sharp despite the weariness of travel. “He’ll want to hear about the priests directly from me.”

Ellie nodded. “Tell him I’ll come by the station once I’ve settled in.”

Byron’s mouth quirked in what might have been a smile. “He’ll have opinions about your brother’s involvement, I’m sure.”

“When doesn’t he?” Ellie murmured, but there was affection in her voice.

With a sharp gesture, the Empyreans wheeled their horses down a side street leading to their barracks, while Byron headed toward the Investigator station. Ellie watched them go, feeling the weight of responsibilities settling back on her shoulders.

“Be careful,” Ralen said before departing, the words simple but his tone carrying unexpected weight.

“Always am,” she replied, oddly reluctant to watch him disappear down the street. She looked over at Tabitha. “It feels like something has changed. It’s strange in that I can feel the rhythm here, and the power, but it all feels different than before.”

“What do you think it means?”

Ellie shook her head. “Honestly? I don’t have any idea. Just that some part of it does feel a little bit different to me, and it leaves me thinking that maybe there needs to be something else.”

“There are too many groups,” Tabitha muttered. “The Guild, the Servants, the Custodians, the Arbiters. How does anyone know who to trust?”

Ellie smiled grimly. “You don’t. The Guild operates in shadows. The Custodians manipulate faith. The Servants want power through destruction. The Arbiters… I think they try to keep everything from tearing apart, but they don’t tell anyone about it until it’s almost too late. Now that we’re here, we should be able to keep all of it sorted.”

“Or it gets more confusing.”

Ellie smiled, turning her attention to the streets around her. Even with the difference that she’d detected, still the streets of Busal City enveloped her in a familiar embrace. After weeks away, the city’s rhythms felt both comforting and somehow off. They worked their way through the harbor district that bustled with its usual activity—merchants shouting their wares, sailors hauling cargo from ships, and the air filled with the mingled scents of sea salt, fresh bread, and the ever-present undercurrent of fish that defined the harbor front.

“It seems nothing’s changed,” Tabitha remarked, her gaze sweeping over the crowd as they guided their horses through the press of people.

“Did you expect it to?” Ellie asked, instinctively creating a small pulse of her ability to scan for any unusual fabrications nearby. The familiar pressure of Busal City’s everyday magical items washed over her—nothing dangerous, nothing unexpected. Just the normal hum of a city where fabrications had become commonplace again.

They turned onto a wide street where shops displayed increasingly elaborate wares the closer they came to the palace district. Fabricators had their windows filled with glowing trinkets, their subtle light catching the eye even in daylight. Copper weather vanes and iron signs creaked on their brackets in the breeze that swept down from the higher reaches of the city.

The street began its gradual climb upward, cobblestones giving way to smoother paving stones. The buildings grew taller, their architecture more refined, with carved stone facades and iron-barred windows gleaming in the afternoon sun. Empyrean guards in fabricated armor became more frequent as they maintained their watchful presence along the route.

“I could use a bath and about three days of sleep before facing any royal inquiries,” Tabitha grumbled, brushing trail dust from her sleeve.

“You can have all the time you want. I doubt I’ll be granted that luxury,” Ellie replied.

They rounded the final bend, and the palace rose above the nearby buildings, its pale walls gleaming in the sunlight, the ancient Inarak stonework radiating power. Arcane lanterns lined the approach, unlit during daylight hours but still giving off a subtle energy that Ellie could feel washing over her senses. The defensive wall surrounding the grounds stood twelve feet high, its top bristling with fabricated defenses that would glow with dangerous energy if touched by unauthorized hands. She felt the weight of the palace’s presence—not just its physical grandeur but the deep Inarak energy that permeated its foundations. That energy had once been a reassuring constant in her life.

As they approached the gates, Ellie straightened in her saddle.

“Are you going to return to the archives?” she asked Tabitha.

She shrugged. “I have to deposit my records. I don’t need to go now, if you don’t want me to.”

“Go ahead.”

After Tabitha departed for the archives, Ellie guided her horse through the familiar streets. Merchant carts rumbled over cobblestones, their wheels leaving tracks in the thin layer of afternoon dust. Children darted between buildings as they played a game that involved wooden hoops and much shouting. A constable paused to watch her pass, making her think of visiting Lijanna. Recognition flickered across his face before he nodded respectfully.

The city felt alive around her—the clang of blacksmith hammers, the calls of street vendors, the distant toll of temple bells marking the hour. Yet beneath it all, Ellie continued to sense something different. The familiar pulse of fabrications seemed somehow changed.

By the time she stepped into the palace, a wave of relief washed over her.

The palace was home, as much as any place was home these days, and though she’d only been gone for a while, Ellie felt as if some part of her had changed—or at least her understanding of things had changed in a way she wasn’t quite sure what to make of. It was just that so much had happened in the time she’d been away that she found herself breathing out that relieved sigh and attempting to make sense of what else she was feeling.

As Ellie crossed the palace threshold, the familiar weight of ancient stone settled around her like an old cloak. The high-vaulted entrance hall opened before her, its ceiling supported by graceful stone arches that cast elongated shadows. Servants moved with practiced efficiency through the corridors. Young men in the palace livery carried polished silver trays, women in simple gray dresses dusted ornate furnishings, and messengers hurried with sealed parchments clutched in their hands.

The marble floor beneath her boots reflected the light from tall windows, creating patterns that seemed deliberate in their arrangement. Tapestries depicting Busal’s history hung between those windows.

Ellie closed her eyes briefly, centering herself as Zaren had once taught her, and reached for that deep part of herself where her ability resided. The burning sensation that had awakened in Buruketh remained, a quiet heat nestled alongside her Blade power, now mixing with some of the techniques Ralen had shown her. When she extended her awareness, the palace responded in ways she had never before noticed. The Inarak stonework didn’t merely exist; it resonated with a rhythm that reminded her of the relic at Vharakal. Not the same, but somehow… related.

Faint whispers seemed to echo from the stone itself, not quite audible but present nonetheless. The palace had always held secrets, but now Ellie sensed layers to those secrets she had never suspected. She trailed her fingers along a wall, feeling the cool stone warm slightly under her touch. Whatever power the Inarak had worked into these walls centuries ago, it recognized something in her now. Or perhaps it always had, and she simply hadn’t been able to perceive it.

She withdrew her awareness reluctantly, returning her focus to the physical present as she continued toward the king’s chambers. Whatever secrets the palace held, they had waited centuries. They could wait a little longer.

“Lady Ellie,” a familiar voice said, and she turned. “You are back.”

She smiled tightly. “Renail.” The head of the household approached her with his usual dignified grace. “It’s good to see you.”

“You look…” He pushed his thin wire-framed glasses up his nose. “As if you need a bath.”

She snorted. “Do I?”

His brow furrowed, and his nose wrinkled just a little bit. “I mean no offense, Lady Ellie, as you are undoubtedly aware, it’s just that you have been traveling. You smell of dust and horses.”

She laughed out loud at that. “Well, I suppose that’s true enough.”

“Can I draw one for you? One of the staff can handle your belongings.”

“I suppose I probably should, though I need to meet with Dorian.”

“Of course, Lady Ellie,” he said. She was always Lady Ellie with him, a measure of both familiarity and formality. “But he is tied up in a meeting right now, and as you know…”

She nodded. “I need a bath.”

“You do.”

“Well, if you can tell me where he’s meeting so that when I’m done, I can join.”

“He is in the great hall.”

Ellie frowned at that. The great hall was a place set for more formal meetings, and Dorian was not one who was a fan of such things. He was more of an informal kind of king, primarily because of how he had taken the throne, and because he often preferred smaller gatherings. He didn’t like crowds, and though he was a good speaker—when he needed to be—he preferred a cozier atmosphere to meet with people.

“Who is he meeting with?”

“There is a visitor from Rosark.”

“Was this expected, or was this a surprise?”

The time on the road had stretched like months in her mind. Every day had brought new revelations—her father being alive, her brother’s secrets, the burning power within her, Ralen’s teachings.

Now Rosark had sent a delegation. She knew little about them, as Rosark was so far from Busal that they were never considered a threat, but maybe something had happened.

“I believe this was somewhat unexpected. He has not said it, but he has been…” Renail leaned close, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Somewhat irritable.” He adjusted his spectacles, a nervous habit Ellie had noticed over the years. “The king has been particular about the arrangements. Different seating charts for the formal dinner. The kitchen staff is in a state.”

“That’s not like him,” Ellie said, though she understood. Dorian valued control, and unexpected diplomatic visits disrupted his carefully maintained order.

“Between you and me,” Renail said, lowering his voice further, “I believe he wished you were here when they arrived. He mentioned—more than once—that your perspective would have been valuable.”

The weight of travel suddenly pressed on her—dust in her hair, sweat-stained clothes, the lingering smell of campfires and horses. She couldn’t present herself to Dorian like this, especially not with foreign dignitaries in the palace.

“You’re right about the bath,” she admitted. “I can’t meet anyone looking like I’ve been dragged through half the kingdom. It was good seeing you, Renail.”

“And you, Lady Ellie.”

As she turned toward the stairs leading to her quarters, the main doors swung open. The council members swept in, their formal robes rustling against the marble floor. Magnus Telling led them, his silver hair making him stand out. His eyes found hers immediately, and something passed between them—a flash of recognition, perhaps even amusement. He knew, or at least suspected, that she had been the one in his study that night. The slight curve of his lips suggested he found the memory entertaining rather than offensive.

Strange, that. Then again, he had long been a strange man.

It was times like these that she wished she had Zaren with her. He had some experience with Telling, and had a way about him. Or just his size. There was something to being a massive man that seemed to make things easier, she had long ago decided. No one felt intimidated by her.

The other council members followed—Vorish Hames with his perpetual scowl, Fahra Jenarin adjusting her elaborate headdress, and the others whose ambitions and schemes she had learned to navigate. They moved with purpose toward the great hall, no doubt summoned for the same meeting that had Dorian so agitated.

Ellie pressed herself against the wall as they passed, acutely aware of her travel-worn state. She caught her reflection in a polished mirror—hair tangled, face smudged with road dust, clothes that spoke of too much time away from the formality of the palace. The image jarred against the gleaming marble and silk-clad nobility surrounding her.

She couldn’t face them like this. Not the council, not the Rosark delegation, and certainly not Dorian. Whatever had drawn these powers together would have to wait until she could present herself properly.

As she hurried toward her chambers, she heard raised voices echoing from the great hall—Dorian’s controlled tone cutting through the murmur of conversation. Something was happening, something that had brought them all to the palace at once.

The burning sensation within her flared briefly, as if responding to the tension in the air. Whatever awaited her after her bath, Ellie suspected it would test everything she had learned on her journey—and perhaps reveal whether she was truly ready for the role Dorian had been preparing her for all these years.

Chapter

Seven

Ellie soaked in the luxurious bath, feeling the way the water swirled around her, listening to the sound of gentle music that drifted from the fabrication nearby, and breathing in the floral scents.

Steam rose from the surface in lazy spirals, and light danced from the arcane lanterns mounted on the mosaic-tiled walls. Sweet herbs and flower petals floated on the surface—jasmine, lavender, and rose—releasing their fragrance with each ripple. The water maintained a perfect temperature through hidden fabrications, creating gentle currents that massaged tired muscles and eased away the lingering soreness from her journey. In a place where magic had once been forbidden, she didn’t mind this use of it.

There were certain things that she appreciated about living in the palace, and this was definitely one of them.

Palace attendants moved silently around the perimeter of the bath. Each wore the gray-and-silver livery of the bathing chambers, their activities unobtrusive. One held fresh towels that had been warming on a rack. Another arranged Ellie’s clean clothes on a wooden stand—the garments had been pressed and scented with subtle perfumes while she bathed. A third attendant waited with oils and perfumes on a silver tray, the crystal bottles throwing rainbow patterns on the walls.

Ellie shifted uncomfortably under their watchful care. The attention made her feel both pampered and trapped—like a prized pet being groomed. Part of her enjoyed the luxury after her travels, once she remembered nights spent sleeping on hard ground with only her cloak for warmth. But another part really hadn’t minded the simple privacy of washing in a stream.

She dragged herself out of the bath. The moment her feet touched the floor, one attendant was there with heated slippers while another approached with the towel. When Elsbeth came over to her, Ellie waved her away. “I can just take the towel.”

“Of course, Lady Ellie,” Elsbeth said.

When Elsbeth called her “lady,” it was more formal than it was with Renail. Elsbeth said it like a title, though Ellie didn’t deserve, nor possess, any sort of title. Though Dorian had essentially raised her in the palace and treated her as a presumed family member, that didn’t mean Ellie truly felt as if she belonged.

She dried off, conscious of the attendants hovering at a respectful distance, ready to assist if needed. She dressed quickly before slipping into the hallway, her footsteps muffled by thick carpets that ran the length of the corridor. Ornate sconces lined the walls, their fabricated lights casting a warm glow that made the polished wood paneling gleam. She walked to her room, where she paused.

Her room was spacious but not overly ornate. A large bed with a carved wooden frame stood against one wall, its headboard decorated with spiraling patterns that matched the ancient architecture throughout the palace. Crisp blue linens and several pillows in varying shades made the bed inviting.

Her writing desk sat beneath a tall window, its surface scarred from blade practice and cluttered with maps and notes from her journey. Ink stains and a small gouge marked where she’d been careless or frustrated during training.

Against the far wall stood a dark wooden wardrobe, its doors slightly open to reveal her collection of practical clothes and few formal garments. The wardrobe had been a gift from Dorian when he’d noticed her storing belongings in a battered trunk. The room’s only real indulgence was a plush reading chair in the corner.

The palace was old, built upon the ruins of the Inarak, people who had served the fae ages ago. The Inarak had placed power into the building, or perhaps the fae had, though Ellie didn’t know if it was one or the other. She wasn’t sure anybody knew, short of the Inarak or the fae, and none of them spent any time in the city to offer that answer. At least, not any longer. Over time, other structures had been built on top of the Inarak ruins. Including the palace.

Ellie moved to the wall, running her fingers along the ancient stonework until she found the slight irregularity she sought—a stone that protruded a hair’s breadth more than its neighbors. She pressed her palm against it, feeling the familiar tingle of the fabrication that guarded this entrance. She used a pulse of her ability through her hand, and the fabrication resisted momentarily before yielding to her touch.

The stone panel slid aside with a soft grinding sound, and she stepped into the darkness, the temperature dropping noticeably as she left the warmth of her room behind. The passage walls were rough against her shoulders as she turned to reach back to the lever that would reseal the entrance. She tapped a specific sequence on the wall—three quick taps high on the stone, followed by two slower ones at waist height. Fabrications flickered to life along the ceiling, casting a dim blue glow that lit the narrow corridor ahead. The passageway stretched before her, barely wide enough for two people to pass if they turned sideways.

Ellie moved quickly through familiar halls. She passed intersections where other corridors branched off into darkness, ignored hidden doors that led to various other parts of the palace, and descended a spiral staircase cut directly into the stone. The steps were uneven, but she knew where to place her feet. At the bottom, she turned left, then right, then left again, following a route that would bring her to the outer wall of the great hall.

She moved forward, counting her steps carefully until she found the small metal grate that had been worked into the stone. From inside the great hall, it would appear to be nothing more than one of the decorative metal flourishes that adorned the walls—a stylized flower design common throughout the palace. But from this side, in the hidden passage, its purpose was clear.

She pressed her hand against it, pushing just a bit of power through her and removing the fabrication that sealed off the grate, and then listened. At first, the sound that came through was muted, dim. She closed her eyes, concentrating on her Blade ability, and pushed more power into the grate than she expected would be necessary. Gradually, the voices became clear to her.

Though Ellie couldn’t see anything, she heard Dorian’s voice.

A surprising pang of emotion worked through her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his presence during her journey. The sound of his voice—calm, measured, with that hint of authority that came so naturally to him—brought an unexpected tightness to her throat. It carried echoes of countless lessons, quiet conversations in his study, and time together that had shaped her life in the palace.

“…and I fail to see how these terms benefit Busal,” Dorian was saying, his tone laced with the polite steel she knew so well. It was the one he used when his patience was wearing thin.

“The trade routes have shifted, Your Majesty,” came Magnus Telling’s voice, oily and deferential. She could practically see him wringing his hands as he spoke. “What Rosark proposes would restore the flow of goods that⁠—”

“At what cost?” Dorian interrupted, and Ellie could hear the subtle shift in his tone. “You of all people should understand the implications, given your interest in Blade movements.”

She stiffened, her fingers tightening on the edges of the grate. What was Dorian implying about Telling’s activities? She remembered finding those documents in his study, the careful notations tracking Blade deployments.

“I merely track commerce,” Telling said, a smile in his voice. “If Blades affect trade routes, then naturally I must⁠—”

“Enough.” Dorian cut through the excuses. She heard the rustle of fabric that probably meant he’d made one of his dismissive gestures. “I’ve heard your arguments. The council’s position is noted. We can discuss this later.”

A tense silence fell, broken only by the shuffling of feet and clearing of throats. She heard the creak of leather—someone shifting uncomfortably in their seat, no doubt—and the soft clink of metal that might have been decorative armor or jewelry. Ellie pressed closer to the grate, trying to understand what she’d missed. What exactly was the council asking for? Or was it Rosark?

“I do thank you for taking the time to come,” Dorian said, his voice carrying the formal tone that signaled the end of an audience.

“That is all?”

It was a woman’s voice, and Ellie could finally hear it more clearly. There was something else other than the voice that she started to notice, though she wasn’t sure if it was just because she was standing behind fabrications or if it was real. She could’ve sworn that there was a hint of unexpected power—not quite like a fabrication, but something that made the air feel charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.

“Did we really need to meet in a place like this?”

“I didn’t need for you to,” Dorian said, “but the rest of your party did.”

“You didn’t need to do this to impress me.” Ellie caught a note of intimacy in the woman’s tone.

There was history here—personal history that had nothing to do with Busal and Rosark.

Ellie found herself leaning closer to the grate.

Dorian laughed, a sound so warm and genuine that it took her aback. In all her years in the palace, she’d rarely heard him laugh like that—unguarded, almost… playful.

Not Dorian…

Who was this woman? How did they know each other? What had happened between them? The comfort between them was palpable, even through the grate.

There were things about Dorian’s past that he didn’t talk about with Ellie, and she understood it, primarily because there was much about what he’d done before he had become king that he did not seem to want to share. She’d heard whispers, of course—everyone in the palace had theories about Dorian’s life before his time serving the queen—but he’d never confirmed or denied any of them.

“Will you and I have time again before we leave?” the woman asked.

“It depends upon how much privacy we can have.”

“Do you want privacy?”

“I don’t like others listening,” Dorian said. “I don’t want stories to spread or tongues to wag.”

“I wouldn’t mind one tongue wagging,” she said, her voice dropping to a lower register that made the innuendo unmistakable.

Was she flirting with him?

Ellie suddenly wished that the grate was easier to see through. She pressed her face closer, trying to catch a glimpse through the tiny gaps in the metalwork, but could only make out vague shapes and shadows.

The playful tone in the woman’s voice was obvious, carrying the kind of confidence that came from knowing one’s advances would be welcome. Even more shocking was Dorian’s apparent receptiveness to it. Ellie had always known him as reserved, focused entirely on his duties as king. She’d never seen him show romantic interest in anyone, had never even heard rumors of past relationships. The servants gossiped about everyone, but Dorian had seemed immune to such speculation, as if his dedication to the Crown had rendered him above human desires.

To discover this side of him—capable of flirtation, of warmth beyond his usual measured kindness—forced Ellie to reconsider her understanding of the man who had been her mentor, protector, and in many ways, her family.

She found herself smiling as she imagined how she might tease him about this later. The knowledge that Dorian had someone who could make him laugh, who shared some mysterious history with him, somehow made him seem more human. More approachable. She already planned how she might casually bring up the topic of his visitor. Perhaps over breakfast, with an innocent question about the Rosark delegation…

“It is good to see you, Selene.”

“And you, Ri.”

With that, Ellie knew that they were far closer than she had even thought. She had never known Dorian to have a nickname. She couldn’t even think of why he would need one. His name was fine, carried the weight of authority perfectly, and yet this woman called him Ri. The nickname was intimate, familiar, speaking of a time before crowns and councils, before the burden of a kingdom rested on his shoulders.

She couldn’t hear much else, the voices dropping to murmurs that even her enhanced hearing couldn’t decipher. She stood in place, waiting, torn between wanting to stay and listen more, and feeling guilty about her eavesdropping. She debated whether she wanted to loop around and come out of the passageways to see the woman, when she felt a subtle shift in the air currents of the passage. Something had changed. Then she heard the soft scrape of stone on stone and realized with a start that the wall in front of her was beginning to move.

Ellie hurriedly backed away before freezing. There was only one person who could open these passageways so easily. Even she, with all her training, had to work to overcome the ancient fabrications. But Dorian knew secrets about the palace that he’d never shared, ways to command its hidden mechanisms that seemed almost supernatural.

The hidden door swung inward silently, and Dorian stepped in, his silhouette framed by the light from the great hall behind him. He regarded her for a long moment, his expression unreadable in the dim blue light of the passage. Then his lips quirked in that almost-smile she knew so well.

“Welcome back, Ellie.”

Chapter

Eight

Ellie followed Dorian through the passageways, his footsteps echoing off the ancient stone walls as he strode quickly. The dim light from hidden fabrications cast long shadows that danced ahead of them. He moved with the practiced ease of someone who knew these secret corridors intimately, turning corners without hesitation and navigating the labyrinthine paths in silence. The air grew cooler as they descended, and it carried the familiar scent of old stone and faint traces of the Inarak power that permeated the palace’s foundations.

“That’s all the greeting I get?”

He paused briefly, turning his head just enough to catch her in his peripheral vision. “I sensed movement in the passages and was uncertain of the presence’s identity or purpose.” A ghost of warmth touched his voice as he added, “I’m pleased to find it’s you.”

“You didn’t worry about the fact that I was returning?”

“I had heard reports that you were on your way back.”

How would he have gotten such reports?

When she asked him, he just shrugged. “You do realize I have placed fabrications all throughout the kingdom to make certain I know everything that takes place here. It is the only way I can ensure the safety of…” Dorian shrugged again. He didn’t even bother activating any of the lights along the passageway.

“Don’t you want to know what happened?” Ellie asked.

“Of course I do. But not here, and not where there might be others who could listen. I presume that what you will share should be done in private.” He cast a look over his shoulder, and she nodded. “As I suspected.”

“I came straight to you.”

“Not straight to me.”

“Well, Renail thought I needed a bath first.”

“I cannot blame you for that. I imagine you missed the simple luxuries while you were traveling.”

She wanted to tell him no, she did not miss it, and that she didn’t need luxury, but that wasn’t true. Not after soaking in the bath and enjoying the warmth, the fragrance, and the overall relaxation it brought.

“Who is Selene?”

He ignored her and kept marching until he reached the stairs, and then seemed to think better of it before continuing on. They passed through a narrow archway carved with unfamiliar symbols that seemed to shimmer when Ellie looked at them directly. The passage branched here, with one path leading up toward the residential wings and another plunging deeper into the palace’s foundations. He chose neither, instead pressing his hand against what appeared to be solid stone. A hidden door ground open, revealing yet another corridor she hadn’t known existed. Where was he going?

“An old friend,” he eventually said, voice soft.

“It sounds like the two of you are more than just old friends.”

He chuckled. “I suppose you could say that.”

“So?”

“She is an old friend.”

“From Rosark,” Ellie added.

“Yes. It seems as if you have mastered the basics here. I suppose that is for the best because you do need to know about this delegation. I would’ve involved you had you been here.”

He reached another set of stairs and started down.

Why were they coming down here? They descended into the oldest foundations of the palace, where the worked stones gave way to rougher, more ancient construction. This was where the original Inarak structure still stood, largely untouched by later additions. The air hummed with deeper power here, a resonance that made Ellie’s skin tingle and her Blade ability pulse in response. She rarely ventured this deep anymore—not since her early training days when Dorian had first shown her these chambers to help her understand the ancient energies that suffused the palace.

“Why are we going down here?”

“I needed to talk,” Dorian said. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“So we need to come down here to do so?”

“If you are going to share with me what I suspect you are going to need to share with me, I thought it would be prudent for us to talk in a quiet place. I did not want any prying ears or rogue fabrications to listen to what we were doing or saying.”

The logic made sense. The ancient Inarak parts of the palace were known to interfere with most fabrications, their power creating a natural barrier against magical eavesdropping. Though she rarely came this deep, she understood why Dorian chose it for sensitive conversations. The age-old protections woven into these stones would ensure complete privacy.

“Can you talk about her while we are walking?” she asked.

“I don’t know what to tell you. When I was younger, I traveled quite a bit. A young man needs to see the world. As does a young woman.” He looked over to her.

“My travels weren’t exactly voluntary,” Ellie said, unable to keep a note of bitterness from her voice. “I was running, not exploring.”

“You were, but the reason you wanted to was a bit different than the reason most want to. Whereas I had a little wanderlust, yours was targeted.”

She snorted. “By you. But you were saying about your wanderlust?” She thought the turn of phrase was amusing, especially coming from Dorian. She would never have accused him of anything like that.

“When I was younger, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with myself,” he said. “My mother had not yet married my stepfather, so there was no reason for me to believe that I would ever reach this point in my life.”

“Do you regret it?” she asked.

“Regret becoming king?”

The stairway spiraled deeper, the steps worn smooth by centuries of passage. As they descended, Ellie became increasingly aware of the ancient power that permeated this level. It pressed against her senses like a physical weight, making her Blade ability flare and settle in irregular waves. Dorian traced his hand along the wall as they walked, his fingers brushing the carved symbols.

“I suppose I don’t mean regretting becoming the king,” she said, “but I am curious about the way the two of you interacted.”

He chuckled. “What are you implying?”

“I’m implying nothing, Ri.”

Dorian took a deep breath. “Yes, as I said, I was younger then.”

“We were all younger once,” she said.

“I was young, and I did have a bit of wanderlust.”

“You keep saying that. So the two of you did what? You traveled together?”

“For a time.”

“Were you involved?” Ellie asked.

He fell silent as they reached a wide landing. The passageway opened into a vast cavern, its ceiling lost in shadows above. The ancient power was strongest here, swirling through the chamber like invisible currents. Ellie had always been sensitive to the palace’s magical resonance, but down here, it was almost overwhelming—a living presence that seemed to recognize her in ways she didn’t fully understand.

“For a time,” he said softly. She couldn’t be certain, but she guessed that it was regret that tinged his words.

“What happened?”

“Responsibilities.”

“Yours or hers?”

“Hers, and then mine.” He shrugged. “And over time, things change, and people change.”

“It doesn’t sound as if she changed all that much. In fact, it sounds to me like she’s still interested.”

“I’m sure she is,” Dorian said.

“So confident?”

“So cautious.”

He started off without further explanation.

Cautious?

Ellie was curious what that meant. What would he need to be cautious of? Then again, considering what she knew and what she had heard of their conversation—the obvious, flagrant flirtation—she assumed there was a reason for his caution.

Knowing Dorian, he was probably concerned that she might want to use him.

As they walked through the cavern, Ellie extended her awareness, using the cycling technique Ralen had taught her. The power here felt different—older, deeper, with layers she’d never perceived before. “What’s really troubling you?” she asked.

“Everything I’ve ever been concerned about,” he said, his voice echoing in the vast space. “Threats we can see, threats we can’t, powers we don’t understand. I worry about forces moving in the shadows, about dangers building while we’re looking elsewhere.” He gestured to the darkness around them. “About ancient powers awakening that we may not be equipped to face.”

“So you brought me down here because you’re worried?”

“I brought you down here because this is a safe space, as strange as it may be. This is a place of power, and it will give us an opportunity to talk. So talk.”

“It’s really great to see you, Dorian,” she said.

“My apologies. It is nice to see you, Ellie. I am glad you made it back safely.”

“There’s something you need to know about the Empyrean you assigned to me,” she said, watching his face carefully. “The one who called himself Jerath—he wasn’t who he claimed to be.”

Dorian’s expression darkened. “I know.”

“Then you know that he killed the real Empyrean you sent. Took his place using abilities I’ve never encountered before—something called mimicry. He could copy powers, Dorian. Mine, others’.” She took a breath. “He was part of a group called the Servants of Ascendance. They’re seeking ancient powers, trying to do something with the fae, or maybe the gods. I don’t know. I think he believes he can bring back the Sacred Souls.”

The idea seemed impossible, but then, there was much of what she’d seen and experienced in the time that she’d been in the palace that seemed impossible. What was one more thing, she supposed?

Dorian’s face had gone very still. “You’re certain of this?”

“I fought him. Saw what he could do.” Ellie hesitated. “Have you heard of them? The Servants?”

“Rumors,” he admitted. “Whispers from my network about a new threat, but nothing concrete until now. A belief in power that would rival the fae, or perhaps exceed it, if stories are to be believed.”

That fit with what she figured from Ralen and his belief that the Arbiters might need to do… something. “Your network?” She couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice. “What kind of network are we talking about? Blades? Fabrications? Something else?”

A hint of a smile touched his lips. “Spies, Ellie. I have spies.”

“Was that what I was meant to be?”

“Maybe at first, before I was going to be king. But you are far more valuable than a mere spy.”

“Jerath—or whatever his real name was—he was incredibly powerful. If Ralen hadn’t helped me…”

“Tell me about this Ralen.”

“He claims to be from Ardem, one of the fabrication breakers. But he’s more than that. More skilled than any fabrication breaker I have ever interacted with. He’s connected to a group called the Arbiters.” She watched his face for any sign of recognition. “Are you familiar with them?”

“No,” Dorian said slowly. “But if they oppose these Servants, we need to know more about them.”

“That’s going to be difficult. We were attacked on the way back to the city. Ralen helped us escape and left when we got to the city.”

“You don’t believe he’s left. Or been taken by the others.”

It wasn’t a question. She shook her head. “He’s too skilled for that. Too powerful.”

“Then find him. Learn what he can teach you. We need to understand these Arbiters and what they know of the Servants. If there’s a danger to Busal, then we have to intervene.” Dorian’s eyes were intense in the dim light. “If you can gain their trust, perhaps even join them…”

“You want me to leave again? So soon?”

“I don’t want you to leave. I’ve never wanted you to leave, but I understand the need to leave. As I said, I’ve had wanderlust.” He smiled, but it looked awkward on his face. “I also understand what it means to need purpose.”

“You don’t think I have one?”

“You do, but you, like your first mentor, always look for more. I think I could keep you in the city, I could have you serve and offer your protection the way your mentor did, but it wouldn’t be enough.”

He always referred to Zaren as her mentor, and never by his name. Ellie never knew why—she thought it might be about some old grudge between the two men, though she didn’t think there was one.

“I’m guessing what you will find more valuable is to understand all that you can do, all that you can be, and all that I have trained you to understand.”

“So you’re sending me away?” she asked.

“Not sending—permitting,” Dorian said. “You need to find yourself, and to master what you can do. Master what you can be. Though I have given you a start, I can’t keep you here just because it serves my interest. I need you to serve your own interest, and in doing so, you can serve all of ours.”

She sighed. “So, what? I was never your Blade?”

“Oh, Ellie, you’ve always been meant to be much more than just a Blade.”

Chapter

Nine

Ellie kept her head down as she made her way through the crowded streets of Busal City. The afternoon sun cast long shadows between the buildings, and people were going about their business with the usual bustle and energy around her. She pulled her cloak tighter despite the warmth, more from habit than necessity. After being away, even for a short time, the city felt both familiar and strange.

After she had talked to Dorian about what had happened, the events in Buruketh still weighed on her mind. More than that, as she had been testing her ability using what Ralen had taught her, she could feel an echo of that burning power whenever she used her ability, like an aftertaste that wouldn’t fade. Whatever had awakened in her during that confrontation with Jerath and the relic hadn’t disappeared when she’d returned to Busal.

She needed answers, and while Dorian had been tight-lipped upon her return, she might as well go and see what the Investigators had been up to. Jos might even know something useful. At the very least, she needed to understand how Baring had gotten tangled up in all this.

What had led him to the mountain ruins? How had he known?

The Investigator station came into view at the end of the street—a squat, gray stone building near the harbor district. Even from a distance, she could tell something was different. Usually, the area around the station maintained a careful quiet, a deliberate sense of watchful calm. Today, it buzzed with activity. Investigators moved in and out of the main entrance, some carrying maps, others checking fabrications as they hurried on their way.

She slipped through the front door, nodding to the pair of constables stationed there—another aspect that was different. Inside, the main hall was a hive of movement. A dozen or so Investigators clustered around tables where maps and documents lay spread out. The low murmur of voices filled the space, punctuated by the occasional sharp order.

“Ellie?”

She turned to see Analish, one of the more experienced Investigators, approaching from across the room. The woman’s dark hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and she wore the simple, practical clothing typical of her position.

“Didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

“Just returned,” Ellie said with a careful smile.

“That explains Byron finally making his way back to us.”

She nodded. “He was with me. Is Jos around?”

“In his office. Been holed up there most of the morning.” Analish’s gaze narrowed. “You might be exactly who he needs to see.”

“Oh?”

“There’s been… developments. While you were away.” She gestured vaguely at the activity around them. “We’ve had to increase patrols along the northern part of the city, on the other side of the harbor.”

Ellie kept her expression neutral. “Anything I should know about?”

“Better hear it from Jos.” Analish’s eyes flicked to the stairs. “He’s expecting a report from Ferris, but I’m sure he’ll make time for you.”

With a nod of thanks, Ellie made her way to the stairs, weaving between busy Investigators. A few looked up as she passed, some with recognition, others with curiosity. She had occupied an odd position in Busal City for years—not quite a Blade in the traditional sense, not really an Investigator, yet somehow connected to both. But since Dorian had sent her to Buruketh, rumors must have spread. She could feel it in the way people watched her now.

Jos’s office door stood half open, voices drifting out. She paused, listening.

“—third report this week,” came Jos’s gravelly voice. “Same pattern. They gather a crowd, speak for an hour, then vanish before we can question them.”

“And the fabrications?” A younger voice—Ferris, she thought.

“Nothing definitive. Traces, but by the time our people arrive, they’re gone.”

“What about the connections to⁠—”

Ellie knocked firmly on the doorframe, then pushed the door fully open without waiting for a response. Jos looked up from his cluttered desk, surprise flickering across his weathered face before settling into a smile. Ferris, a wiry young man with alert eyes, stood beside him with an open notebook.

“Well,” Jos said, leaning back in his chair, “look who’s back.”

“Miss me?” Ellie stepped into the office.

Jos nodded to Ferris. “We’ll finish this later. Get those reports compiled by evening.”

“Of course.” Ferris gathered his notes, giving Ellie a respectful nod as he passed.

When the door closed, Jos gestured to the worn chair opposite his desk. “You look like you’ve been through it.”

“That obvious?” Ellie settled into the chair, feeling the weariness that was still in her, as if it had permeated her bones.

Jos studied her. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Some of it.” She leaned forward. “Those fabrications you gave me before I left—they were useful. Thank you.”

Jos nodded, not pressing for details. That was what she appreciated about him; he understood the necessary boundaries of her work for Dorian. “You arriving alone tells me something, at a minimum.”

“Oh?”

“You didn’t find your brother.”

The words settled like stones between them. Ellie looked down at her hands, remembering the shock of seeing Baring in the ruins, the confusion when he’d pointed out their father. So much she couldn’t share—not yet.

“Byron didn’t tell you?”

Jos’s brow furrowed. “Said there were things you’d have to talk about yourself. That he didn’t want to steal your thunder. The boy reports to me, so I’m not sure what thunder he’s concerned about stealing.”

“Byron just wanted to let me tell you myself. I found Baring. He’s safe, but… it’s complicated.”

His eyebrows rose. “He coming back?”

“Not right now.” She met his gaze steadily, debating what to tell him. She still wasn’t quite sure how she felt about knowing her father wasn’t dead, so she didn’t know whether she wanted to explain anything more, even to Jos. “He’s following a lead. Something important.”

Jos studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Well, that’s something, at least. Been worried about that boy.”

“Me too.” Ellie shifted topics. “What’s happening here, Jos? I’ve never seen the station this active.”

He ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking every year of his age. “You’re not the only one who’s been busy. Those priests your brother was tracking before he disappeared? They’ve become a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Could the Custodians have become more active in the city? That would be a problem.

“The kind that draws crowds and vanishes before we can question them.” Jos reached into a drawer and pulled out a thick folder. “Been happening more frequently since you left. They gather in the market, preach about the return of the Sovereign, promise power to the worthy. Leave behind people with glazed eyes who can’t quite remember what they heard.”

A chill ran down Ellie’s spine. “Like they’re under some kind of influence.”

“Exactly like that.” Jos flipped open the folder, revealing pages of notes and sketches. “Baring was watching them, and I didn’t pay any mind to it. Should have, though. Damn, if I should have.” He sighed. “He said there was something about the way they spoke—something that affected people’s brains. He thought it might be related to some obscure fabrication technique, but we couldn’t find evidence of active fabrications during their gatherings.”

Ellie thought of the priest in Buruketh, how his power had washed over the crowd, influencing everyone but her. Not a fabrication—something else entirely. “What have they done in the city?”

“Ah, the priests started small,” Jos continued. “Just one or two, at the edges of markets, but they’ve grown bolder. Larger gatherings, more elaborate claims.” He looked up at her. “Baring was obsessed with figuring out their true purpose. Said they were testing people. And I didn’t pay enough attention.”

“It’s not your fault. How could you have known?”

He grunted. “I should’ve listened, Ellie.” Jos pulled out a sketch—a rough drawing of a circular metal device with intricate etchings. “He found one of these in their wake. Left it behind. Said not to let anyone touch it directly. Then Grady went and did it. Nearly knocked him out when he touched it.”

Ellie recognized it immediately. A Blade trap—or as Ralen had called it, a tenasark.

“You’ve seen something like this before,” Jos said.

“Something similar. I didn’t realize the priests were here recruiting. That’s why he went to Buruketh.” She murmured that last part, almost to herself. “That’s where I caught up with him. He found something—someone—he’s been looking for.”

Jos studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Well, at least I know he’s alive. And I’m glad you’re back. And alive. Marge will be relieved to hear that much.”

“How is she?”

“Worried about you.” He gave her a small smile. “Keeps making extra food, just in case you show up hungry. You should come by tonight. She’d love to see you.”

“I’d like that.” Ellie leaned forward. “But first—what else can you tell me about these priests? Have you connected them to anything beyond Busal City?”

He nodded grimly. “That’s part of what’s got us so busy. We’ve received reports from other cities—Rizanal, Janilash, even as far as Herdan. Same pattern: priests appearing, gathering crowds, then vanishing. Always preaching about the Sovereign.”

“That’s more coordinated than I realized.”

If they had to worry about the Custodians, did that mean the Servants were here as well?

“Here’s what’s odd.” Jos lowered his voice, glancing to the door of his office. “About a week after you left, most of them disappeared from Busal. Simultaneously. Like they’d received some signal.”

“Where did they go?”

“West, as far as we can tell. We’ve sent Investigators to track them, but…” He spread his hands. “The trail’s gone cold.”

West. But there was nothing in the west. Somehow it was all connected, if only she could piece it together.

“Any lasting effects on the people they were preaching to?” Ellie had been more concerned about how the priests—and their collaborators—had been stealing from people, but maybe that wasn’t the real issue. Or at least shouldn’t be.

“Nothing obvious. Memory gaps about what was said, but otherwise normal.” Jos frowned. “Though we’ve had a few cases of people packing up and leaving the city afterward, as if something in the message stuck with them.”

“Or called to them,” Ellie said.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

“Just connecting dots.” She hesitated. “Has Lijanna mentioned anything about these priests? The constables must have noticed the gatherings.”

At the mention of Lijanna, Jos’s expression clouded. “She’s aware. Sent a few constables to observe, but nothing formal.”

“How is she?”

Jos sighed heavily. “Better in some ways. She’s been more consistent with her duties, at least. Byron was keeping an eye on her before he left. Says she’s drinking less.”

“But?”

“But there’s still something missing.” He gestured vaguely. “The spark. The fight. She goes through the motions, but it’s like she’s just waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

“Who knows? Maybe for something to change. Maybe for him to come back. Or her.”

The former Blade, Asi. Ellie had heard whispers that she and Lijanna had been close before she’d left the city—around the same time Zaren had departed. Another piece of the broken past.

“I should talk to her,” Ellie said.

“She might listen to you. More than she listens to me, anyway.” Jos closed the folder. “She’s been asking about you, actually. Wanted to know if I’d heard anything from you. When Byron left, it was all I could do to convince her not to go chasing after you.”

The only way Lijanna would have been like that would be if she’d been drinking. So maybe there was more there than he wanted to share. “I’ll stop by the constable station before dinner.”

“Good.” Jos nodded. “Now, is there anything else you can tell me about what you found up north? Anything that might help us understand what we’re dealing with here?”

Ellie considered carefully. She couldn’t reveal everything—not about Jerath, or Ralen, or the relic, or the strange power that had awakened within her. But Jos deserved something.

“The priests are part of something bigger,” she said finally. “They call themselves Custodians, and they believe in bringing back ancient powers. They’re working with—or maybe being used by—another group called the Servants of Ascendance.”

Jos’s eyes widened slightly. “Never heard of either.”

“They’re old. Older than most realize.” Ellie leaned forward. “Baring stumbled onto something important, Jos. Something dangerous.” She needed to protect her brother, so she added, “That’s why he stayed behind—to understand it better.”

“And you? What did the king send you to do about it?”

“Find answers. Which I did, though not all of them.” She met his gaze steadily. “There are ancient powers stirring. Not just fabrications—something else. Something older. The kind of thing I wish we had Zaren here for.”

Jos absorbed this silently, his weathered face giving nothing away. Finally, he nodded. “I’ve lived long enough to know there are depths to this world we barely understand. The Inarak, the fae—who knows what else lurks in the shadows of this city? But you know what? As much as that big bastard was helpful, I think you can handle things just fine.”

She smiled, thinking of how Zaren would take Jos calling him that. Probably wouldn’t care. Ellie stood, feeling the weariness in her muscles. “I should go see Lijanna, then clean up before dinner.”

“Marge is making that spiced fish stew you like,” Jos said, rising from his chair. “Around sunset?”

“I’ll be there.” Ellie smiled, grateful for this small normalcy amid the chaos.

Jos came around the desk and, to her surprise, pulled her into a brief, rough hug. “It’s good to have you back, Ellie. Even if it’s temporary.”

The unexpected gesture warmed her. “Good to be back.”

As she turned to leave, Jos added, “Be careful with Lijanna. She’s fragile, though she’d hate to hear me say it.”

Ellie nodded, her hand on the door. “One more thing, Jos. The fabrications that were taken from the school—the ones Karissa thought were a prank…”

“What about them?”

“It was Baring. He took them for protection.”

Jos blinked, then let out a short laugh. “Well, that’s one mystery solved. Karissa’s been fuming about that since you left.”

“Tell her they’re being put to good use.”

“If you’re not stopping out there”—he shot her a look and she shook her head—“then I will.” His expression sobered. “And Ellie? Whatever you found up there in those mountains… Do we need to be worried?”

Ellie thought of the relic, of Jerath’s desperate attempt to channel its power, of the burning energy that still thrummed beneath her skin.

“Probably not here, but I don’t really know what is coming.”

Stepping back into the busy main hall of the station, Ellie found herself chewing on what she knew, wondering what she was supposed to do about it—if anything. The priests, the Servants, the power awakening within her. All pieces of a puzzle she was only beginning to understand.

But first, Lijanna. Then dinner with Jos and Marge. One small step at a time.

With a deep breath, she walked out into the afternoon sunlight, pulling her hood up against the curious glances of passersby. She had returned to Busal City different than when she’d left. Changed by what she’d experienced, by what she’d discovered within herself.

The question now was: What would she do with that change?

Chapter

Ten

The constable station was quieter than the Investigator headquarters had been, though no less busy. Constables moved with purpose through the corridors, their boots echoing on worn stone floors. Some were in uniform, their blue coats adorned with silver buttons, while others wore civilian clothing for undercover work. A trio of young recruits hurried past clutching stacks of reports, and veterans exchanged knowing nods as they passed. Ellie made her way to Lijanna’s office at the back of the building, nodding to those who recognized her. Most did—she’d spent enough time here over the years, even if her visits had grown less frequent lately.

When she reached Lijanna’s office, the door stood open. The office itself was empty.

Ellie stepped inside and closed the door behind her. The space was neater than she’d expected—reports stacked in orderly piles, maps carefully rolled and stored in a wooden rack against one wall. The room smelled faintly of the lemon oil someone had used to polish the desk. Only a single empty mug, stained with remnants of dark tea, suggested the office was regularly occupied.

She moved to the window, looking out over the small training yard behind the station. A pair of constables were sparring beneath a weathered canopy, wooden practice swords clacking rhythmically against each other. Their movements were practiced but purposeful, each strike and parry executed with precision. Another constable was demonstrating proper blocking technique to a younger recruit, patiently correcting the young woman’s stance while a small group watched and learned.

No sign of Lijanna.

Restless, Ellie began to pace. The conversation with Jos had left her with more questions than answers. Not just about the priests and whatever they were setting in motion, but about Lijanna herself. Jos had said she was “better in some ways,” but the careful phrasing spoke volumes.

The door handle turned, and Ellie pivoted to face it.

Lijanna paused in the doorway, her expression shifting from surprise to something more guarded. “Ellie. Didn’t know you were back.”

“Just returned,” Ellie said, studying her.

Lijanna looked better than Ellie had feared. Her uniform was clean and pressed, her dark hair neatly tied back. But there was a tightness around her eyes, a rigidity to her posture that hadn’t been there before.

“Well,” Lijanna said, closing the door and moving to her desk, “this is unexpected.”

“I was in the area. Thought I’d stop by.” Ellie watched as Lijanna settled into her chair. “I was just at the Investigator station talking to Jos.”

“Ah.” Lijanna’s lips curved into what might generously be called a smile. “He suggested you check on me.”

The conversation shifted as Ellie studied her friend’s face. “They’ve been asking about you, the Investigators on patrol. Since Byron left with the contingent.”

“Isn’t that always the case?” Lijanna shuffled some papers on her desk, not meeting Ellie’s eyes. “You look tired.”

“It’s been a long few weeks.”

“So I’ve heard.” Lijanna finally looked up. “There are rumors, you know. About where you went. What you were doing.”

“Rumors tend to be wrong.”

“Are they?” She leaned back, eyeing Ellie up and down. “You’ve changed. Something’s different.”

Ellie stilled. Had the change in her—whatever had awakened in the ruins—left visible marks? Or was Lijanna simply that observant?

“Sit. You’re making me nervous with all that pacing.”

Ellie took the offered seat, noting how Lijanna’s eyes tracked her movements. “How have you been, really?”

“Busy.” Lijanna ran a hand through her hair, a rare gesture of weariness. “Between the regular city patrols, these priest gatherings Jos is obsessed with, and now the Rosark delegation, I barely have time to think.”

“The Rosark delegation?” Ellie feigned surprise. The delegation’s presence wasn’t secret, but she wanted to hear Lijanna’s perspective.

“Trade negotiations, supposedly.” Lijanna’s tone suggested skepticism. “They’ve been here for nearly a week. High-level talks with the king, meetings with the council.” She paused. “Security’s been a nightmare. Their guards are jumpy.”

“I can imagine.” Ellie leaned forward. “How’s Telling handling them? I’d think trade negotiations would have his full attention.”

A flicker of sharpness appeared in Lijanna’s eyes. “Interesting you’d ask about Telling specifically.”

“Just curious,” Ellie said, keeping her expression neutral. After finding those documents in his study—the ones tracking Blade movements—she couldn’t help but wonder about his involvement in anything unusual. Telling had always played a deeper game than most realized.

Lijanna shuffled more papers, seemingly without purpose. “He’s met with them several times. Hosted a dinner at his compound last week.”

Ellie filed that information away. So the Rosark delegation had indeed been visiting Telling, confirming what she suspected. The question was why, and what it might mean for Busal.

“You seem better,” she said, changing the subject. “Than when I last saw you, I mean.”

Lijanna’s shoulders tensed slightly. “You mean I’m sober.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Lijanna sighed, some of her defensiveness fading. “I’ve made some adjustments.”

“Good. That’s good.”

A moment of awkward silence stretched between them.

“Those street kids you sent to the school,” Lijanna said suddenly. “They’re doing well.”

Ellie blinked, surprised by the shift in topic. “The two boys from the market?”

“Carshon’s taken them under his wing. Says they have potential.” A hint of a genuine smile touched Lijanna’s lips. “Caught them trying to lift a fabricated clock from one of the classrooms last week. Used their own abilities to mask the theft.”

“Resourceful,” Ellie said, returning the smile.

“Mother’s furious, of course. Says they’re undisciplined, but I think she’s secretly impressed.” Lijanna’s expression softened a moment. “They remind me of you, actually. When you first came to the city.”

“I wasn’t a thief.”

Lijanna arched an eyebrow.

“Well, not a very good one,” Ellie added.

The shared memory loosened something between them. For a moment, they were just Ellie and Lijanna again—friends who had trained together, fought together, protected each other.

“I miss this,” Lijanna said quietly. “Sometimes.”

“Me too.”

Her gaze sharpened again. “You didn’t come here for nostalgia, though, did you? What do you need, Ellie?”

The directness was so familiar, so quintessentially Lijanna, that Ellie found herself smiling again despite the tension. “Can’t I just want to see an old friend?”

“You could. But you don’t.” There was no bitterness in her tone, just certainty. “You’re working something. I can see it in the way you hold yourself.”

Ellie hesitated, then decided on a partial truth. “I’m concerned about some things I’ve observed. The Rosark delegation being one of them.”

“What about them?”

“Nothing specific.” She chose her words carefully. “Their timing. Arriving when they did, staying as long as they have. The fact that they’re meeting with council members individually, not just as a group.”

“Which is unusual, but not necessarily suspicious.”

“True.” Ellie leaned forward. “What do you know about their history with Dorian?”

Lijanna’s eyebrows rose. “The king’s personal history, you mean?”

“I know there was something between him and one of their diplomats years ago. Selene, I think her name was.”

“Ah.” Understanding dawned in Lijanna’s eyes. “You want to know the rumors about the two of them, I bet.”

“What kind of rumors?”

Lijanna studied her for a moment. “The romantic kind, mostly. The stories say they’d met in Rosark’s capital years ago. Or that they met on a ship. Or perhaps that they traveled as minstrels.” She looked up, smiling at that. “Whatever it was, their attraction was immediate and intense. Some claimed to have seen them dancing at midnight gatherings, others spoke of passionate arguments in public squares. The story I’ve heard most often involved Dorian writing terrible poetry that Selene would correct. Then it ended abruptly.” She tilted her head. “Why the interest in ancient history?”

“She is part of the delegation,” Ellie said.

“Interesting.” Lijanna tapped her fingers on the desk. “That could complicate things.”

“Especially if their parting wasn’t amicable.”

“From what I heard, she was the one who ended it.”

This was new information. Ellie had always assumed, when the rare hints of Dorian’s past relationships surfaced, that he had been the one to walk away. The image of him as the one left behind, perhaps even hurt by the abruptness of it, didn’t align with the careful, controlled man she knew.

“That’s surprising,” Ellie said.

“People are always more complicated than they appear.” Lijanna’s expression grew thoughtful. “Even kings.”

Something like that might explain his careful distance with everyone around him—even her, despite all their years together.

“Is that what concerns you?” Lijanna asked. “The possibility of old wounds influencing current negotiations?”

“Partly,” Ellie admitted.

“Well, there have been patterns in the constables’ reports—mentions of the delegation’s guards being spotted in unexpected places. The old harbor district. Near the abandoned warehouses. Even in the merchant quarter at odd hours.”

“Places that have nothing to do with trade negotiations.”

“I’ve been looking into it, but you know I have to be careful.”

“Just watch them for me, would you?” Ellie asked.

“For you?”

“Fine. For the king.”

Lijanna reached for a small notebook and jotted something down. “I can have constables watch their movements more carefully. Discreetly, of course.”

“That would be helpful. I’d like to know who else they’re meeting with, especially outside official channels.”

“Planning to tell the king about this?”

Ellie hesitated. How would Dorian react? This wasn’t what he’d asked her to do, but maybe this was what she needed to do. “Not yet. Not until we know more about what they’re actually doing.”

Lijanna raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Instead, she asked, “Is this related to your recent travels?”

“I don’t think so,” Ellie said honestly. “But with everything else happening—the priests, the disappearances—I want to make sure we’re not overlooking anything.”

“Fair enough.” Lijanna set down her pen. “I’ll have reports for you in a few days. Where should I send them?”

“I’ll come to you,” Ellie said.

“So now you don’t want to leave a paper trail. Interesting.” She smiled. “You know, this is the most interesting thing to cross my desk in months. Besides the usual drunken brawls and merchant disputes, of course.”

“Happy to provide a distraction.”

She could see the subtle change in Lijanna—the way her shoulders straightened, how her eyes held more focus than they had in months. “It feels like the old days,” Lijanna admitted quietly. “When we were chasing actual threats instead of just existing.”

The admission hung in the air between them—vulnerable, honest in a way Lijanna rarely allowed herself.

Ellie reached across the desk, briefly touching her friend’s hand. “You’ve always mattered, Lijanna. To the city. To me.”

Lijanna’s fingers twitched beneath hers, then withdrew. “Yes, well.” She cleared her throat. “Don’t get sentimental on me now.” Lijanna stood, signaling the end of their conversation. “I should get back to work, and you probably have more mysterious errands to run for our king.”

“Actually, I’m having dinner with Jos and Marge tonight.” Ellie rose as well. “You could join us.”

A shadow crossed Lijanna’s face. “Another time, perhaps.”

Ellie didn’t push. “Whenever you’re ready.” At the door, she paused. “Be careful with this, Li. If the Rosark delegation is involved in something beyond trade—especially if Telling is part of it—it could be dangerous.”

“I’m always careful,” Lijanna said, the captain’s mask sliding back into place. “And I’m not afraid of Telling or his politics.” For a brief moment, something like her old fire flickered in her eyes. Then she nodded, once, sharply. “I’ll send word when I have something.”

“Thank you.” Ellie meant it for more than just the information.

She had to make a stop, but then get to Jos and Marge’s for dinner, and perhaps some answers about what her brother had discovered before he’d ventured north. Then back to the palace, where Dorian waited with his own questions about what she’d found in Buruketh.

And somewhere beneath it all, the burning power within her continued to simmer, neither growing nor fading—simply waiting.

For what, Ellie wasn’t yet sure. But she intended to find out.

Chapter

Eleven

Evening settled over Busal City, and normally it was a time when Ellie would be comfortable, especially as she had spent so much of her life here and had come to feel that she belonged—that the city was her home. Now, however, something felt off, and she wasn’t quite sure what it was, nor was she sure why it bothered her. Maybe it was more about the fact that Lijanna had been off, and that there was much about her return that left Ellie wondering if perhaps she should have stayed.

She shook those thoughts away. She had needed to be here, hadn’t she? She had needed to return, mostly because Dorian needed to know what had happened outside of the city. Even now, Ellie wasn’t exactly sure what to make of what had taken place out there, and what role the Servants had played in it, or whether the Custodians that Jos was concerned about had been involved in it as well.

What she needed, more than anything, were answers.

Not just about what Rosark was doing in Busal City, but about whether it had anything to do with the Servants or the Custodians, or even the Arbiters. That last option was something she hoped was not the case, but considering that she had not had a chance to talk to Ralen about it, she was unsure.

She had started to feel a little uncertainty, though. Something that suggested to her that Ralen had made it back to the city. The hard part for her was that she wasn’t exactly sure where he was, though she had been testing whether she could feel anything using the same technique he had demonstrated to her. If nothing else, she figured that Ralen would be the one to teach her how to reach him.

The harbor district seemed like it was the most likely place to find him. It was where most newcomers gravitated, drawn by the ships or the crowd, but in the case of Ralen, she wondered if he had ended up there because he had mentioned the ships when she had last seen him.

She paused near a stack of crates, closing her eyes and extending her awareness. She worked on the technique that Ralen had shown her, and it came somewhat naturally, energy flowing into her fingertips and then drawn back to her center. There was a rhythm to it that created a subtle pulse that allowed her to detect other energies around here, including dozens of fabrications that were scattered through the harbor, along with on some of the ships. She didn’t find him there.

She moved inward, stopping at one market where the vendors were packing up stalls and putting away their supplies to end their day. Continuing to work with power, Ellie still didn’t find any sign of Ralen. But there was the ongoing hint of power that she believed was there, a hint that told her there seemed to be something out there that she might be able to find, if only she could uncover the key to it. She had felt him, she was certain.

When she cycled her power as she neared a row of taverns, she felt it again.

There, on one of the rooftops not far from her, she felt the distinct energy that seemed to come from Ralen’s technique.

She snorted, scrambled up a nearby wall, and then approached the hunched figure that was crouching on one of the rooftops.

“You are getting better at diminishing your connection,” he said, not even bothering to look over toward her.

“Oh, good,” she said, a bit of a smile curling her lips. “Just what I wanted to hear from you. That you barely heard me approach.”

“It is impressive that you have learned to do this as quickly as you have, but considering your experience, including who your mentor was⁠—”

“You can say his name.”

Ralen smiled tightly. “I didn’t know him, if that’s your question.”

She frowned at that. He was quite eager to tell her that he didn’t know Zaren. And given that she knew he had trained as a fabrication breaker, she suspected that there had to be more to it than what he implied. Maybe he actually did know Zaren.

No, not maybe—he had to have known him.

There was much about what Zaren had done after leaving Busal City in the wake of the queen’s death that Ellie didn’t know. Details about where he had gone, what he had done, that left her questioning what more he might have gotten involved in. Things she wasn’t sure she even needed to know. Then again, there was a part of her that had felt lost after he had left.

Was I so different from Lijanna?

She knew she wasn’t. Even though Zaren hadn’t been in the city for very long, he had left an impression, and he had changed things considerably.

“How long have you been here?” she asked Ralen.

“Long enough to notice that there has been some activity here.”

“What kind of activity are we talking about? Servants, or more mundane?”

He glanced over, and she saw the hardness in his eyes, a look that she had seen occasionally during their journey. “You think the Custodians mundane?”

“I think the way they use power is a little less problematic than what we—or I—saw from the Servants. Or even from you.”

He chuckled. “You say it as if I’m a problem, but I bet you would benefit from learning some of my techniques.” He studied her, and for a brief moment, little more than that, she felt the energy that washed over her. It was different than the way she used her ability, different than how she had trained with Zaren, and it left her with a stirring sensation, a bit of a rhythm, that told her that whatever it was that he did with his power was significant, and different than how she had trained. “Although I think you can learn more.”

“How can I learn more?” Ellie asked.

Ralen shrugged. “I think you have more than just your Blade ability.”

She frowned at that. He wasn’t telling her something.

“All right, so I can use more than my Blade ability. It also seems like you are trying to keep something from me.”

“I’m not trying to keep anything from you. I was willing to work with you. I did work with you.”

“Until we got back to the city,” Ellie said.

Ralen smiled. “And what did you find?”

“It seems you already know what I found. You know that something is different.”

“I know that Rosark currently has a presence here.”

“Should I be concerned about that?”

He shrugged, turning his attention back down the street. He was watching for something, but what?

“I have not spent any time in their land.”

“Surprising, for an Arbiter,” she said.

“Not terribly, as I am not so well traveled as you might believe.”

Ellie smiled at that. She had questions about Rosark and what he might have heard, or more importantly, what he might have felt.

“I’ve heard reports that some of the Rosark delegation has been meeting with our council.”

Ralen nodded. “And that bothers you? You don’t think your council should be meeting with any delegations? Is the king so concerned?”

“I doubt Dorian’s concerned about all that much, especially as he is likely distracted by this particular visit.”

She arched a brow. “What do you know about that?”

“Probably no more than you have heard. Rumors. I feel that they have a way of containing some truth, but they also have a way of being blown out of proportion.”

“This one I’m not so sure is blown out of proportion at all,” Ellie said. “Dorian had a relationship with Selene, although I’m not entirely sure what that relationship was, or the extent of it.”

She knew more than she was letting on, but she didn’t want to tell Ralen that because it seemed to her that there were things he might be able to help with.

“What are you doing up here, anyway?” she asked.

“What you should have been doing.”

“Hiding in the shadows?”

“Watching,” he said. “Isn’t that your role in the city?”

“I’m not entirely sure what my role in the city actually is these days,” she said, keeping her voice soft. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see movement down below, activity as people worked their way along the street, but she kept her focus on Ralen. He was tensed, waiting for something. Not only that, but she suspected that he was using his ability in some way, although Ellie wasn’t sure what he was using it for or how. “Maybe to keep track of the delegation.”

“I doubt your king wants you to focus so much on something he has others to handle. Especially considering how little interaction you have with the Investigators. Unless that has changed?” Ralen asked.

“And here I thought you haven’t spent that much time in Busal City.”

“I never said I haven’t spent any time here. I just said that⁠—”

“What is it that you detected?” Ellie asked, cutting him off. “What are you concerned about?”

He smiled tightly. “So direct.”

“Considering what you’re implying, I think a direct approach is probably for the best. Especially with you.”

“Come here.” He motioned for her to join him on the ledge looking down.

She did, and even though she wasn’t sure what to make of it, she crouched next to him on the edge of the rooftop. Ellie immediately began focusing on her ability and tried using his technique, but there was something in it that she didn’t feel as if she could master. Something about the way she attempted to cycle that power that didn’t seem to be working quite as well as she wanted it to. It felt as if there was some resistance.

“Are you preventing me from seeing what’s out there?”

“Do you think I could?”

“I…” Ellie honestly didn’t know. Considering the level of control he had, she guessed that he might be able to keep her from using her full connection, but there would also be some limitations. The hard part for her was that she wasn’t certain what those limitations were, and she didn’t know if there was anything different that she needed to do. “So, it’s not you. Then what is it?”

“Something I have not felt before,” Ralen said.

“That’s what brought you up here, then.”

“Something like that.”

They both fell quiet. Through it all, Ellie could feel the connection and the way he was doing something with his power, even if she wasn’t sure what it was. He was aware, but aware of what, exactly?

And then she felt it.

She had been using his technique, the slow, simmering cycling of energy, and began to feel a stir. One of the things she was aware of in the city was that there was always an undercurrent of magic. Living in a place like Busal City, where there was the Inarak connection and even a hint of the fae—especially considering that a Twilight Gate was buried beneath the city—had always made it so that she was aware of power. But this was different. This was not the power of fabrications. This was not the power of the Blades, even though she knew there were other Blades in the city. It was also not the power of some of the more unusual people she had encountered while training with Zaren.

This was subtle. Had she been using her traditional techniques, the same ones Zaren had taught her, Ellie wasn’t sure she would have even detected anything. It was because she was focused on the steady cycle that he wanted her to learn that she had been able to feel it. It was more because she had been focused on the technique, and less focused on trying to control it.

Strange that it would work like that. Or maybe not so strange. Maybe this was exactly how it was expected to work.

“What is it?” she asked.

“That, Ellie, is what I have been trying to find and detect. I don’t know what it is.”

Interesting. She would’ve expected that he would have noticed something, but so far he hadn’t?

“Well, it’s moving away from us,” she said.

“You can track the location?”

“I can. Why?”

“Your control is impressive,” Ralen murmured, circling her as she maintained the energy flow. “Most would have lost focus by now.”

“I have good motivation not to fail,” Ellie replied, though she wasn’t sure if she meant the technique or proving herself to him.

“I’ve only been aware that there was something pushing against me, and have not been able to track where it is or where it was going. But if you can…”

His tone suggested he was surprised. Maybe she should share in that surprise, or maybe it was just about the fact that she did not have the same understanding of how to wield the ability. Or maybe it was because she was using a mix of techniques—both what Ralen had shown her and what she had learned from the fabrication breakers she had trained with over the years—combined with the sheer brutality that Zaren had taught her. Zaren had not known any real finesse, and so she had used strength from the very beginning.

Her mother, on the other hand, had not taught her anything other than an awareness of how to reach for her power.

A different question came to her, though, one that left her trying to understand if there was any other explanation tied to what her father might have offered. He had claimed that she had inherited something from him. There was that burning sensation she had been dealing with, one that Ellie still wasn’t sure she understood, one she wasn’t sure she could explain. Maybe that had as much to do with it as anything.

“Then let’s follow it,” she said, and before she gave Ralen a chance to say anything, she scrambled off the rooftop, dropping down to the ground. She landed near an alleyway, and a couple walking past looked in her direction, eyes widening briefly before they hurried on. Ellie suppressed a smile. She stepped out of the alley, and from farther down the street, the couple that she had surprised was talking to a constable.

The constable turned to her. She locked eyes with him, and it was probably a good thing that the man knew her. He frowned, but then turned away when she waved him off.

Ralen joined her only a few moments later.

“I would’ve preferred a more indirect approach,” he said.

“It doesn’t really matter what you prefer, as the key here is to just get down from the roof. Besides, I wanted to make sure we don’t lose this.”

“I don’t feel it any longer.”

It surprised her that she was not aware of what he was doing. She would’ve expected to feel something, but there was no sense of Ralen using his ability. That impressed her. But as she continued her own cycling technique, she still felt that subtle, faint resistance. More than that, there was an aspect to it that left her thinking that she was aware of it, that she had felt it at some point before, only Ellie wasn’t sure how or why or what it was.

She moved down the street, which bustled with late-evening activity. Merchants were closing up their stalls, wooden shutters clattering as they secured their wares for the night. A few stragglers hurried past, clutching parcels and baskets, their footsteps quick against the cobblestones. The crowd had thinned considerably from the day’s peak, leaving scattered clusters of people who drifted toward the taverns and inns that dotted this part of the city. Arcane lanterns had begun to glow along the buildings, casting pools of warm light that created shifting shadows as people moved through them.

Ralen kept pace with her, and by the time Ellie reached a wider street, she paused again. Once more, she focused on the technique that he had demonstrated, and in the process, she began to feel just a hint of power. She was not entirely sure what it was, only that she could tell that there was a presence. More than that, however, was that this presence seemed as if it was waiting for her.

“It doesn’t seem like whoever is out there is all that concerned that we might be following them,” Ellie said.

“They know?”

“Oh, I don’t know if they know we’re here, not exactly, but it doesn’t seem as if they are hurrying, if you know what I mean.”

Ralen shook his head. “I do not know what you mean.”

“I mean that I think they’re maintaining a pace that we are designed to be able to keep up with.”

She followed a row of taverns to where the street narrowed, lined with establishments that catered to sailors and merchants alike. Music spilled from open doorways—a fiddle’s lively tune from one tavern, the deeper notes of a drum from another. Laughter and raised voices mixed with the melodies, creating a familiar symphony of revelry. The scent of roasted meat and ale mingled with the ever-present salt from the harbor. But beneath the ordinary sounds of the evening, Ellie sensed something else. A subtle wrongness that made her think of her encounters with the Guild years ago. The way certain people moved too deliberately through the crowd, or how some shadows seemed darker than they should be.

Then the sense of what she had been tracking began to fade.

She turned, looking at the tavern in front of her. The Copper Kettle stood out from its neighbors, its sign depicting a steaming pot suspended over flames, the copper paint catching the lamplight. Unlike the rougher establishments nearby, this tavern had an air of quiet respectability—clean windows, freshly painted trim, and a doorway free of loiterers. As Ellie approached, she felt the energy she’d been tracking concentrate here, like heat radiating from a forge. It wasn’t overwhelming, but it was unmistakable—a subtle vibration that made her skin prickle and her Blade ability stir in response.

“Whoever it is, and whatever it is, is inside here,” she said, keeping her voice soft.

Ralen’s hand went to the sword at his side.

“I don’t think you need to draw your weapon. Not yet.”

“I need to be ready,” he said.

“Maybe, but you’re still in Busal City, and we are going to get into a bloody fight. Besides, if anything happens, we have constables, Investigators, and the two of us. Plus, I think this is only one person.”

“One person who has managed to resist both of us.”

The way he said it suggested that, to him, it was the most impressive thing of all.

“Still,” Ellie said, “just relax.”

She pushed open the door. Inside, the Copper Kettle was warmer than expected, the air thick with pipe smoke and the yeasty scent of ale. Round wooden tables were scattered throughout the main room, most occupied by small groups engaged in quiet conversation. A long bar of polished oak ran along one wall, behind which stood rows of bottles and casks. The lighting was deliberately dim—just bright enough to see faces across a table but dark enough to preserve privacy. A few patrons glanced up as they entered, but most returned quickly to their drinks and discussions. In the far corner, partially hidden by shadows, sat the source of the energy Ellie had been tracking.

As soon as she identified it, she felt something else with it: the familiarity.

But none of that compared to the surprise that she felt.

Sitting in the back of the tavern was a woman she had not seen in years, but a woman she recognized immediately.

And she was the source of the strangeness that Ellie had been picking up on.

“Who is she?” Ralen said, seemingly realizing that she had detected this.

“Someone who was in the city years ago. What’s more, she knows Garridan.” When he frowned, she let out a sigh. The woman turned, looking at Ellie. “I think he leads the Guild now, so if she knows him, it’s entirely possible—and even likely—that she is with the Guild.”

That would explain why it seemed as if Aliason was carrying real power with her.

Because the Guild had the kind of power that Ellie had seen but still didn’t fully understand. And if they were in the city…

That was not good, especially not with the Servants, the Custodians, the Arbiters, and even the strange Rosark delegation. All of it left her thinking that whatever was happening was of a larger scale than she had imagined.

Maybe Dorian was right. Maybe there was far more taking place than she knew.

Chapter

Twelve

Aliason looked much like Ellie remembered. She had slight features, the kind that made it surprising that she was likely part of the Guild. Ellie might not have believed it were it not for the fact that she could easily feel the curious energy Aliason possessed. That energy lingered, leaving Ellie thinking that whatever skill the woman had was a more unique connection to power than what Ellie had felt before.

As she approached the table, she felt herself being studied. Ralen came up behind her, a bit of uncertainty from him, although she guessed that it was less about the power and more about Ralen seeming uncomfortable with the fact that Aliason could suppress what he was able to do. That didn’t surprise Ellie as much, simply because she had experience with the Guild having such rare powers.

Taking a seat, she returned Aliason’s stare. The Copper Kettle’s resident musician sat at a small harp near the rear of the tavern, her fingers dancing across strings that gleamed bronze. The melody was complex—layers of notes that seemed to weave in and out of each other.

“Are they with you?” Ellie asked, nodding to the minstrel.

Aliason glanced over briefly before turning her attention back to the front of the tavern. “The song is unique, but it’s not mine.”

“Then what kind of song have you been paying attention to?”

“One that carried a different tune, one that is older.”

Ralen hadn’t taken a seat, and Ellie looked up at him and held his gaze, a little frustrated that he was just standing there. There was something about his posture that was more than a little off-putting, if she were honest.

“Can you sit down,” she whispered to him.

“He fears what he can’t control,” Aliason said. “He fears what he can’t disrupt.”

“Probably because he hasn’t spent much time around the Guild,” Ellie muttered, shaking her head. “How long have you been in the city?”

She needed to know whether Aliason was tied to what had been going on. Maybe there was something with the Custodians, or maybe it had something to do with the Servants, although as far as she knew, that didn’t really fit with the kinds of things the Guild had gotten into. Then again, considering what Ralen had told her about the Guild and how they had an interest in maintaining support and power in their own way, Ellie was left wondering if perhaps the Guild was active because the Arbiters were.

“Long enough to have seen the changes,” Aliason said.

Ellie frowned. “Changes?”

“Always changes.”

The song shifted to a more energetic one. The harpist’s fingers moved faster now, and the livelier rhythm rippled through the tavern like a stone cast into still water. It was a merchant’s song—the kind played to encourage drinking and spending—but there was something underneath it, a subtle pattern that wasn’t quite right. The notes seemed to linger a fraction too long, creating an almost imperceptible echo that made Ellie’s Blade ability tingle.

As the song changed, something about Aliason’s demeanor changed as well. She seemed more wary than before.

“You said something about the song being older,” Ellie said. Considering what they were dealing with, she couldn’t help but feel as if that was significant and, more than that, intentional. Especially given what she had experienced when it came to the Servants.

“Many things are older,” Aliason said. “There are many things to focus on, many things that we see and hear that have become…”

She sat up suddenly.

“What?” Ellie asked.

“You feel it, don’t you?”

“I’m not exactly sure what I feel, or what you are feeling.” She looked around the tavern. Whatever it was, it had clearly left Aliason on edge, although Ellie wasn’t sure how or why, or whether she should be able to feel it, too. The only thing she knew with certainty was that she should be using Ralen’s technique more, because it obviously had been effective, and it had made it so that she had detected Aliason. Without that, Ellie wasn’t sure she would have even noticed anything. “Only what we have been dealing with. Does the Guild know anything about the Servants?”

“Servants?” Aliason asked.

“Right. Servants of Ascendance.”

“I do not know.”

“Do you know anything about a Jerath?” Ellie asked. “Or about his following the Sovereign?”

At that, Aliason’s expression changed. “Are you sure of this?”

“Oh, sure enough. He killed one of our soldiers, followed me out of the city, and tried to attack our people in Buruketh.” Nearby, she could feel Ralen’s attention, and she suspected that he wanted nothing to do with her sharing those details. Then again, she knew how Ralen felt about the Guild and his concern about what role they might have in what had been going on. Ellie didn’t care. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It was just that she understood that there were ways the Guild, and those involved with them, would help—and had helped, especially considering some of the experiences she’d had with them. “He and his people tried to take a relic.”

“Outside the city?” Aliason asked.

Her demeanor shifted again, more of a sharpness to it now. Ellie realized that she had felt a subtle change to not just the way Aliason was sitting, but also the type of energy that she radiated. Whatever seemed to flow from her was unique. Ellie had felt it as a subtlety before, but now she felt it as a distinct rhythm. Strange that she would be so aware of that.

And it was the kind of power that Ellie wasn’t positive that she knew how to restrict, assuming that she even could. Considering the resistance she had felt before, she imagined that there remained a part of what Aliason could do that would overwhelm Ellie’s Blade ability. Much like it obviously had overwhelmed Ralen’s ability.

That didn’t explain why Ellie could feel the power as clearly as she could—even though it was not clear at all—and Ralen could not.

Ellie nodded. “It was outside the city. It’s been dealt with, though.”

“Dealt with? What did you do to deal with it?” Aliason asked, turning now and focusing entirely on Ellie.

A strangle tingle washed through her, something that seemed to resonate with her Blade ability, but it also seemed to leave something deeper inside of her burning, reminding her of that energy she had been feeling the entire time she had been dealing with Jerath.

Ellie shrugged. “You know what kind of power I have, I presume?”

“Do you know what kind of power you have?”

There was a weight to that question that was surprising, and something else to it. A hint of curiosity, perhaps. It left Ellie questioning whether there was more to it than what she would have expected Aliason to be aware of.

“I know what I can do. I know what I am, and I know what Zaren trained me to do.” She might as well bring it back to him, especially considering how she didn’t know what Aliason was trying to do here. “And the power was taken care of.”

Aliason sat quietly for a moment. “Dangerous. They do not fully understand what they will unleash if they are successful.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Something beyond this place that should remain where it is.”

Alison stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor.

“Where are you going?” Ellie asked as Aliason pushed past.

“I came for another, but he is not here, unfortunately.”

Ellie reached for her, but Aliason was gone before she had a chance to say anything more. She followed Aliason to the door, but the woman disappeared into the crowd outside. What had Ellie done wrong, and what had left Aliason as troubled as she obviously was?

“You say that she is with the Guild?” Ralen asked.

“I believe so. She was here around the same time as a Guild member named Garridan. All I know about him is that he holds a significant position within the Guild, and might even lead them. It seems she returned looking for Zaren.”

And was disappointed that he wasn’t here.

Ellie wasn’t him. She might have skill and power, but there were things she couldn’t do. Not like Zaren, who had always seemed to find a way through anything—even when it seemed impossible. Aliason didn’t want her—or her help.

“Are you sure about this?” Ralen asked.

“Come on,” she said, dragging him out into the street. She glanced back over her shoulder through the doorway one more time. The harpist remained in her corner, fingers still dancing across the strings. But something had changed—her eyes were open now as she played, watching their departure. The melody continued, sweet and innocuous on the surface, but Ellie caught that underlying pattern again. A signal.

But to who?

Out in the street, she followed what she could feel of Aliason, although she didn’t go far before she realized that the sense had faded altogether.

The harbor district buzzed with evening activity. Sailors stumbled from tavern to tavern, their laughter and sea shanties mixing with the calls of street vendors packing up their wares. Lantern light spilled from shop windows where merchants conducted their last trades of the day. A group of children darted between adults, chasing and dodging each other through the crowd, their shouts adding to the general cacophony. The air smelled of salt and spice, of roasted meat from the food stalls and the ever-present scent of fish from the nearby docks.

She could find no trace of Aliason’s unique energy.

“She’s gone,” Ellie said. “I don’t suppose you can detect anything.”

Ralen sighed. “I never was able to detect anything from her.”

“Why would that be?”

“It’s unusual,” he said, and she sensed a bit of hesitation in the way he said it. More than that, she sensed a little bit of worry from him. Odd from Ralen, at least in Ellie’s experience.

“Why are you asking if she was truly from the Guild? There was another minstrel there, so obviously the Guild has a presence here,” she said. Even though when they were last here, they had promised Zaren that the Guild would not do anything in the city. Maybe enough time had passed that they no longer felt as if that promise mattered. Or perhaps there was some other reason.

“I’ve never felt any part of the Guild carry power like that,” Ralen said. “That’s not to say that the Guild does not have their own influence and talent, because they do. They have quite the reach. But I have always been able to detect what they’re doing and then ignore it.”

Interesting.

“Well, I know that Zaren was impressed,” Ellie said.

“He was?”

“Does that not impress you?” She had thought that Zaren had a good enough relationship with the fabrication breakers, at least, that Ralen would appreciate that about him, but maybe because of Ralen’s skill it was not truly the case.

“I’m afraid I don’t know him well enough to know if that should impress me.”

Ellie breathed out. “Anyway, there is…”

She trailed off. She had been using the same technique that Ralen had demonstrated, cycling a little bit of power through herself, working from deep inside her and expanding outward into her fingers and toes. In the process, she had started to feel more power than she expected, only this time it was something familiar to her, and not from Aliason.

It was from the opposite direction that Aliason had gone, and Ellie followed it.

“Ellie,” Ralen said.

“Did you know?” she asked.

“I knew that they were here.”

She hadn’t gone far before she saw that the crowd had gathered near the tavern. There was something about the people’s movements that troubled her. Maybe it was just the fact that they were swaying softly, or perhaps it was that she felt a subtle pull upon her, something that came from the middle of the crowd, but regardless, she didn’t care much for it.

She knew the immediate source of it, however. It was one of the Custodians. The priests like the ones she had seen in Buruketh.

She was not the only one who had been drawn here—she saw several of the Investigators, including Byron. He glanced over at her and Ralen, then strode over.

“Jos told me they were here,” he said, “but I hadn’t realized how much they had influenced others already.”

“Can you feel it?” Ellie asked.

Ralen stayed quiet, but he was creating a pattern with his power that rolled out from him. Considering that Ellie had not been able to feel anything from him when he used his ability otherwise, it surprised her that she could feel this as prominently as she did. It was either intentional or…

Or Ralen was using it so that he could disrupt what the priest happened to be doing.

Let him, she decided. It was probably better that he do it than her, especially because Ralen likely had more control over disrupting that much power across such a vast expanse.

“I can feel something,” Byron said, “and it drew me here. I wasn’t certain what it was until I got here. We have a couple other people gathered on the far side, and they are setting up some disruptions.”

“They will not be effective,” Ralen said without turning his attention to Byron. “Not against this. You have others like her?”

“Like Ellie?” Byron glanced to her, and she shrugged. “We have other Blades.”

“They will be necessary. You don’t want the priests’ influence to spread.”

“From what I understand, they have been all over the city and haven’t really caused a problem,” Ellie said.

“Not overtly.” Ralen used another sharp push of his power. This one was strong enough that Ellie could clearly pick up on it. Everybody in the crowd began to shift, their steady swaying faltering, and a soft murmur began to build as if whatever was happening here had been disrupted. “But it happens slowly. First, they come through and begin to sensitize the people that can be sensitized to them. Over time, they take that sensitivity, and they use it. This is not the first place they have.”

“That’s what you’d been doing?” Ellie asked, turning to him. “Following the priests?”

“Trying to find a pattern.” Ralen let out a sigh. There was an intense pressure from him, and as soon as it washed outward, the crowd began to disperse.

The dispersal revealed what had been hidden before. People stumbled slightly, blinking as if awakening from sleep. Some reached for their coin purses with confused expressions. In the shadows between buildings, Ellie spotted movements—thieves scattering. One young pickpocket, no older than twelve, clutched a handful of stolen items as he darted toward an alley. This was what she’d witnessed in Buruketh, the same exploitation of entranced crowds. The Custodians provided the distraction, and the thieves reaped the benefits.

“I follow this pattern, and then I find another one,” Ralen explained, “which was how I came to realize the Servants were involved with the Custodians. I would not have expected that to begin with.”

“But they require the relic,” Ellie said.

“Do you think there is only one?”

Something that Aliason had said left Ellie troubled. “Aliason knew something about Buruketh.”

“She did,” Ralen agreed. “That worries me as well.”

As the crowd thinned further, the priest looked over. He stood at least a head taller than most around him, his simple robes flowing in layers of faded blue and gold. His face was angular, almost gaunt, with deep-set eyes. As their gazes met, Ellie felt the immediate pressure of power against her.

Ellie used a quick push of her Blade ability. She didn’t use anything subtle, and she certainly didn’t use anything tied to the technique Ralen had been trying to train her on. In the process, she felt the disruption, and she felt how she could overpower it. It happened quickly, and whatever it was the priest tried to do to her shattered and failed.

He took a step back.

Ellie hurried toward him, but the crowd began to push in on her. Ralen was there, as was Byron, and she could feel the fabrications that the other Investigators were using to try to disrupt what was happening, but it seemed to have be ineffective.

The crowd surged, bodies pressing in from all sides. People created a wall between Ellie and the priest. She tried to push through, but for every gap she found, two more people filled it.

She could feel it as the priest began to escape, but she couldn’t follow. Not without causing a scene. Not without violence.

Ralen and Byron were still with her once she managed to fight past the crowd, but the priest was gone, as well as those serving him directly.

“So this is the real issue,” Ellie said. Finding Custodians in the city and learning that they were just as active here as they had been in Buruketh was obviously a problem. This was the kind of thing Dorian needed to know about, and the kind of thing she had been trained to stop.

But it wasn’t just her, was it? If other Blades could deal with it, then did it have to be her?

Besides, there were other issues here, weren’t there?

Not just the Custodians, after all.

The Servants.

She had no idea where they were, but she knew that Jerath was not done with whatever he had planned. She just wasn’t sure what that was or why Aliason had seemed so worried. And the fact that somebody like Aliason, somebody who obviously had real power, was worried also made Ellie somewhat concerned.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked Ralen.

He looked away, voice tight. “Let’s just say… I failed to act before, and someone like you paid the price. I’m not going to let that happen again.”

Ellie couldn’t fail, either.

She briefly felt something of his power. It was subtle, but she could pick up on it enough to know that he was using it—and not hiding that from her.

“I think this is meant as a distraction,” Ralen said. She met his gaze, and he shrugged. “I think there is something else that they want, and I’m worried that we may already be too late to stop them.”

Chapter

Thirteen

Ellie tried tracking Aliason for a while, wandering first through old ruins Aliason had been interested in before, thinking that there had to be some way for her to figure out where she might’ve gone. She used ongoing pulses of her ability, sending out waves to detect her, but she was not able to find her.

Eventually, she found herself near a row of shops that stretched along the cobbled street, their facades a mix of practical and ornate depending on the merchant’s level of wealth and type of clientele. Wooden signs swung in the gentle breeze, advertising wares from practical tools to exotic fabrics. Arcane lanterns cast warm pools of light between the gaps, their soft glow reflecting off polished windows displaying everything from fabricated trinkets to finely crafted weapons. The street itself was relatively quiet at this hour, with only a few patrons browsing the remaining open establishments, their footsteps echoing on the stone.

There were quite a few places like this throughout the city, and she had learned to discern the different kinds of energies that came from them, since many of these shops contained some residual fabrication power. She didn’t detect anything from that right now, at least nothing obvious. Instead, she noticed a pair of figures dressed in the clothing of Rosark.

They wore distinctive attire that marked them immediately as foreigners—deep burgundy tunics with intricate silver embroidery along the cuffs and collars, fabric that seemed to shimmer subtly. Their cloaks, secured with ornate clasps shaped like twisting vines, were a darker shade that captured and held shadows. Even their boots stood out—taller than the Busal fashion, with decorative metal accents. It wasn’t just their clothing that marked them as different; it was the way they carried themselves, with the easy confidence of those accustomed to being noticed.

She still didn’t quite know what they were after, but having spoken to Lijanna, she was left with questions about what they might be up to, so she decided to follow them.

At first, they made their way through the shops. In many ways, they were no different than any other shopper. The evening crowd was thinning but still diverse. A merchant in practical woolens haggled enthusiastically with a stall owner over the price of spices, gesturing with calloused hands. Nearby, a pair of young women in the simple blue uniforms of palace servants examined delicate glass beads. Scattered among them were the usual harbor district characters—sailors looking to spend coin before shipping out, travelers with wide eyes taking in the sights, and the occasional constable making their rounds with watchful eyes.

The Rosark visitors lingered first at a jeweler’s shop, examining pieces with small fabrications that made gems shimmer with inner light. Next, they spent time at a bookbinder’s establishment, browsing volumes with gilded edges while speaking in low tones. They passed by a weapons merchant without interest but paused at a perfumer’s stall to sample interesting scents that Ellie recognized as imports from outside Busal’s borders. Most curious was their extended visit to a small, unassuming shop specializing in maps and navigational instruments—they spent nearly half an hour inside, emerging with a narrow wooden case that one of them tucked carefully inside his cloak.

Maybe they’re simply curious.

If she visited Rosark, she assumed she would probably have a similar curiosity. How could she not? It was known as a strange place, and she had heard stories of the types of exotic clothing, jewelry, and even foods that they had.

Maybe that was all they were doing.

When they moved out of the shopping district and into a row of homes, she trailed at a greater distance. Ellie had to be careful here. She didn’t think they had noticed her, but she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t wearing any flashy clothing or anything that would obviously identify her, but there was the possibility that they might recognize that the same person had been following them this whole time. She needed to give them a little more space.

As they moved deeper into this part of the city, the modest dwellings gave way to increasingly impressive residences. The narrow, practical buildings of merchants slowly yielded to wider structures with private gardens visible through wrought-iron gates. Stone replaced timber, and ornate carvings adorned doorways and window frames. The streets broadened, allowing for small carriages and more elaborate landscaping. Fabricated lanterns cast stronger, steadier light here, and the occasional Empyrean soldier stood guard at the corners—a reminder that power in Busal City had its privileges and protections. Soon they were among true mansions, multistoried homes of the wealthy with private courtyards and balconies overlooking the lower city, windows glowing with expensive arcane light that never flickered.

Ellie’s guard went up. She had been in this district before, and the last time had been when she had been performing duties on behalf of Dorian, although she still wasn’t even sure that he appreciated all her efforts to reclaim the jewelry on his behalf. There were members of the council who lived here.

Worse, the pair of figures from Rosark were heading straight toward Telling’s home. His estate dominated the street, its walls rising three stories and gleaming pale yellow under the mounted lights that dotted the perimeter. A defensive wall encircled the property, which Ellie had once scaled, though she didn’t think she’d dare try in the evening light.

This wasn’t just a casual visit to a council member. This was something more formal.

Did Dorian know?

It was possible. Considering the resources that Dorian spent to make sure he was in the know, it was quite possible—even likely—that he was aware of this. But if he wasn’t…

If he wasn’t, then Ellie had a responsibility to investigate, didn’t she? An obligation, even.

She moved forward and slipped along the street when she saw—and felt—something familiar to her. It was almost as if there was another figure out here tracking these two people from Rosark. But the way the figure was moving, how they were navigating the alleys and nearby streets, didn’t actually seem like they were following the representatives from Rosark.

No. They were following her.

Somebody was tracking her.

Ellie paused and used a quick, sharp burst of her ability to send it sweeping out from her, and then froze.

There was a subtle shift in the energy, but it was a familiar one.

So she waited.

While she did, she saw movement in and out of Telling’s home. Servants walked with purpose through the courtyard, lighting additional lanterns as evening deepened. Two figures in formal attire—not the elaborate clothing of Rosark but the more subtle finery of Busal’s elite—were escorted to the main entrance by what appeared to be Telling’s personal guards. From her vantage point, Ellie recognized one as Fahra Jenarin, another council member. Shortly after, a covered carriage arrived, and an elderly man she didn’t know descended, leaning heavily on an ornate cane that radiated fabricated energy. Whatever gathering Telling was hosting, it appeared to involve more than just the Rosark visitors.

Finally, a hooded figure began to work their way along the street, approaching the home leisurely. Ellie snorted to herself. In this place, dressed like that, there was nothing leisurely about it. Then again, she doubted Ralen cared much about that.

She lounged near one particularly large manor house. It was one of the oldest on the street, its stone facade weathered by centuries of Busal City’s salt-tinged air. Thick ivy climbed the eastern wall, framing windows that gleamed with soft golden light. A pair of carved stone beasts—something between lions and dragons—flanked the wide entrance, their eyes inlaid with gems that seemed to track movement. The defensive wall was lower than Telling’s but compensated with more obvious fabricated protections that hummed with energy she could feel even from a distance. A quiet garden occupied the front yard, with plants arranged in patterns that weren’t just decorative but filled with subtle fabrications.

Once Ralen got close, he pulled the hood of his cloak back.

“Tracking me, are you?” Ellie asked.

“Trying to.” He swept his gaze along the street. “I thought to see what you might have uncovered.”

“In the time we’ve been back?”

“Don’t you have resources?”

She shrugged. “Some. Not as much as I would like.”

“And here I thought you lived in the palace.”

“I doubt that I will be able to do that indefinitely.”

“Oh? Lost his favor already?”

“No, it’s just that…”

Ellie wasn’t sure what to say about it. How could she explain that eventually she thought she would need to move on? She didn’t want to be under Dorian’s thumb for her entire life, regardless of the benefits that living within the palace walls provided. Eventually, she would have to go out on her own, wouldn’t she?

But none of that really mattered, not to Ralen, although from the way he was looking at her, it seemed as if maybe he understood.

“Rosark flitter around the city but are unlikely to be a problem.”

“Flitter?” she asked, smiling at him.

He shrugged. “They have particular signatures.”

That was news to her. “Can you teach me to detect them too?”

“I suppose you could learn, if you want.”

He had been trying to push her to understand a little bit more of the Arbiters, and while she was curious, she wasn’t yet convinced that she wanted to have anything to do with them.

“There are many things I want to learn, Ralen, especially about what you are going to do and whether you know more about what the Custodians are doing here.”

“Not that I’ve been able to uncover,” he said, sounding irritated.

“Then what are you doing here?” Ellie asked.

“Consider it a scouting mission. One that I believe you have some familiarity with.”

The way he said it suggested that he knew something. Could he know what she had done before she had left the city on the job where she had gone in search of the relic in Buruketh?

No. He wouldn’t have been aware of her then, would he?

Although, knowing what she did about her ability, and just how much more advanced his own connection to it was, it was possible that he would have been able to detect a bit of a memory to her movement, the same way that she could. Maybe he could even detect something now, could tell that she had been here, and would know that she had pulled a job sneaking onto Telling’s property…

She refocused her thoughts back to the present.

“There’s something else that’s unusual in the city,” he said. “I’ve picked up on… I’m not sure what, exactly, but since we parted, I have picked up on that. That’s why I came looking for you.”

“Does it have to do with Rosark?”

He glanced down the street, but not toward Telling’s home. Was there another meeting taking place? “No. Not them. I’m uncertain as to the reason they are here, though I suspect it is more than trade.”

“Jerath?”

“Not him. I doubt he would return to Busal City, unless you have something he wants.” His tone implied it was possible that she might. “What I feel is something different, old, and familiar, but I am not entirely certain where I felt it before. I was hopeful that you might help me find it before it becomes a problem.”

“If there’s something that’s going to be a problem, you can just tell me what it is.”

He took a deep breath, and when he let it out, he sounded frustrated. “I don’t know if it’s going to be a problem or not, which is why I have come to you. You have an ability you have not fully mastered, but I imagine that when you do, you can use it to help enhance certain powers. That is what I hope. I thought that maybe I could help activate something, perhaps trigger it, that would help reveal whether there is anything in particular that you will be able to uncover.”

That was surprising, but maybe it shouldn’t be. Given what she had been able to do and feel on the journey from Buruketh and out to the ruins, it didn’t strike her as altogether that shocking.

“I can try,” Ellie said. “So long as you’ll stay to teach me what you can.”

“I’ve already offered to teach, but I also have told you that it will take more time than you seem willing to take.”

“That’s fine. I still want you to teach me what you can.”

Because the more he showed her how he was able to use his ability that was complementary to hers, the faster she believed that she would be able to develop even more. The more likely it was that she would begin to demonstrate control, and the less likely it would be that somebody like Jerath, or other Servants, would be able to surprise her.

And there might just be another reason that she wanted to spend time with Ralen.

There was something about the intensity of his gaze that made her pulse quicken in a way that had nothing to do with danger. She told herself it was merely professional curiosity, an interest in his techniques and knowledge as she studied him. Those were the kinds of things she didn’t necessarily want to acknowledge, but from time to time, Ellie felt as if she needed to give herself a bit of freedom to think that way, didn’t she?

“I don’t know when my responsibilities will pull me away, but for now, I will stay in the city,” he said.

“And when you do have to leave…”

“I’ll make sure you know the reason why, so that you can decide if you want to be a part of it.”

“When should we begin?” Ellie asked.

“There’s a few things I need to do beforehand. A few preparations I should make. How about soon? We will need a place.”

“It’s a good thing I know just the place. The Royal Garden. You can ask around. Anybody can tell you how to find it.”

“Any reason why there?”

“You’ll know when you see it.”

“Very well,” Ralen said.

He slipped down the street, and Ellie watched him go. The man moved with grace, his footsteps making almost no sound on the cobblestones. The bruise beneath his eye caught the fabricated light as he pulled his hood back up, creating a shadow that seemed to deepen. He glanced back once, before disappearing around a corner. Even after he’d gone from her sight, Ellie could sense his presence—as if he wanted her to know he was there.

She wasn’t sure why he remained in the city, but she was certain that he was keeping something from her. Training with him would give her a chance to learn that. That was the only reason she wanted to do so.

That was what she told herself.

Chapter

Fourteen

The smell of Marge’s famous spiced fish stew greeted Ellie before she even knocked on the door. The aroma filled the street outside Jos and Marge’s modest home near the Investigator station—rich, complex, with hints of sea salt, pepper, and exotic spices that Marge somehow managed to acquire despite their rarity in Busal City. Ellie’s stomach growled in response. After weeks of travel and tavern food of questionable quality, the promise of a home-cooked meal from Marge was almost enough to make her forget the chaos of the day.

Almost.

The door swung open before her knuckles could connect with the weathered wood.

“About time you got here,” Marge said, wiping flour-covered hands on her apron. Her gray hair was pulled back in its customary bun, but a few strands had escaped, softening her practical appearance. “Jos said you’d be late. I told him you wouldn’t dare keep my stew waiting.”

Ellie smiled, feeling some of the tension ease from her shoulders. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

Marge pulled her into a tight embrace. “You’re too thin,” she muttered, not unkindly. “And you look tired. Come in, come in.”

The house was exactly as Ellie remembered it—warm, lived-in, with furniture that spoke of comfort rather than style. The main room served as both kitchen and dining area, dominated by a large wooden table that had hosted countless meals and conversations. Copper pots hung from the ceiling, and a small fire crackled in the hearth, taking the edge off the evening chill. The walls were lined with shelves holding a mismatched collection of books.

Jos sat at the table, already nursing a mug of ale. He looked up as Ellie entered, nodding in greeting.

“Wasn’t sure you’d make it,” he said. “Figured you might get caught up in something else.”

Ellie settled in a chair across from him. “Most things happening in the city can wait.”

“Come help me with the bread, Jos,” Marge called from the kitchen.

Jos winked at Ellie and dutifully rose and retrieved a loaf from the oven. She leaned back, smiling despite the strangeness of everything that had been happening. This was the closest thing to family she had in Busal City since Zaren had left and her brother had become distant.

As Marge began ladling stew into bowls, Jos returned to his seat, studying Ellie. “You didn’t run into any more trouble after we parted?”

Ellie hesitated, thinking of her encounter with Aliason and then the priest in the harbor district. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Jos’s eyebrows lifted, but he didn’t press. He knew when not to ask questions, at least until food had been served. It was one of his better qualities.

Marge set a bowl in front of Ellie, the stew rich with chunks of white fish, colorful vegetables, and a broth that simmered with spices. A thick slice of bread accompanied it, warm enough that the butter Marge provided melted immediately.

“Eat,” Marge commanded, taking her own seat. “Questions can wait.”

For several minutes, the only sounds were those of appreciation and eating. The stew was perfect—flavorful without being overwhelming, the fish tender, the vegetables still maintaining a slight crispness. Ellie hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the first spoonful touched her lips. Even though she had access to dining in the palace, there was something to be said about the cooking here. It was simpler, and it reminded her more of what she had eaten when she was younger.

“Travelers always appreciate good food the most,” Marge said, watching Ellie tear off another piece of bread to sop up the broth. “So tell me about your travels.”

Ellie glanced over to Jos, curious how much she should share. She trusted Marge, and she knew that Jos trusted her, but there were certain things that she wasn’t sure she needed to reveal, especially given what had happened when she had been out of the city.

“Not a whole lot to say,” she said.

“Oh? Well, Jos did tell me that you had some difficulty with the man who was supposed to chaperone.”

“Ellie doesn’t really need a chaperone,” Jos said, shaking his head and smiling.

“Maybe not physically, but there are certain places where a young woman needs to have a man along just for appearances.” Marge leaned forward. “Not saying that you can’t handle yourself.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Jos said. “I don’t need Ellie trying to prove just how skilled a fighter she is.”

Marge grinned and then winked. “Maybe you could take one of those blades and make sure he remembers.”

Ellie returned the smile. “I did end up in Buruketh.”

“I’ve never been that far outside the city. Spent most of my days here, so anything beyond there is exotic to me.”

“I don’t know about exotic, but the buildings climb the mountainside. I wasn’t really there as a tourist, but I got a chance to see some of the sights.”

“Find what you were looking for?” Marge asked.

“Some of it,” Ellie admitted. She caught Jos’s eye across the table. He nodded almost imperceptibly—a silent acknowledgment that they would talk more freely later.

Sensing the need for a change in topic, Marge launched into a story about one of her sisters and a disastrous attempt to make bread with a fabrication that had somehow doubled the rising process, resulting in the dough exploding in her face. Ellie found herself laughing, feeling a sense of genuine relief and relaxation in a way she had not experienced in weeks. It was always like that here.

The conversation flowed easily after that. Jos, loosened by good food and ale, shared stories from his early days as an Investigator, including a particularly entertaining tale involving a missing fabrication that turned out to be in the pocket of the very merchant who had reported it.

“The man’s face when I pulled it out of his own coat.” Jos chuckled, shaking his head. “Turned redder than a sunset. Claimed he’d been so worried about it causing problems in the city that he’d decided to carry it with him.”

“That was a different time, though,” Ellie said. “Back when fabrications weren’t allowed.”

“In a way, that was an easier time,” Jos said. He offered a small shrug when Marge shot him a look. “I’m not saying I agree with it, I’m just saying that it was an easier time then, especially since we didn’t have to question what kind of fabrication we might have to find. Now it’s a matter of trying to decide if one is safer than another.”

“That’s what you have some of your detections for.”

“Oh, I know,” he said, taking a bite of bread. “Sometimes I wonder if perhaps it’s time for me to hang it up.” He glanced over to Marge. “Although when I think that way, I then start to wonder if Marge might become irritated if I were to do so. Too much time around here might not be good for me.”

“Or for me,” Marge said. “Besides, I’m not sure you’re ready to give it up just yet. You still enjoy it. It’s when you stop enjoying it that you need to hang it up.” She stood and headed to the kitchen, then grabbed a plate of pastries that she set on the table.

Ellie began to feel a strange burning sensation, the same one she had felt before, and she didn’t have a good explanation as to why it would suddenly flare now. She didn’t understand it—she only knew that it troubled her, leaving her with questions as to why she would feel it and, more importantly, what it was.

“You all right?” Jos asked, his keen eyes missing nothing.

“Fine,” Ellie said quickly. “Just ate too fast.”

Jos didn’t look convinced, but before he could press further, Marge launched into another story about her youngest sister’s latest romantic entanglement. The burning sensation faded, and Ellie pushed the concern from her mind. She’d have to figure it out later.

“So Byron tells me that you came across some Custodians today. Near one of the markets?” Jos asked.

Marge sighed loudly. “And there it is. Couldn’t even wait until the plates were cleared.”

Jos had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry, love. It’s just⁠—”

“Important. I know.” Marge stood, gathering empty plates. “You two can talk while I clean up. But you’re both helping with the dishes after.”

As Marge busied herself at the washing basin, Jos leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I don’t like the fact that they are becoming more active these days. It was one thing when you would have a single priest preaching, but now they’re drawing a crowd. And more and more of them are present in the city.”

“We could round them up,” Ellie suggested.

“On what grounds?”

“City safety. Security. Unlicensed use of⁠—”

Jos held up his hands, cutting her off. “Oh, I’m not saying that’s not possible, I’m just saying that it’s a problem to have them wandering in the city. If all they were doing was preaching about the Sacred Souls, we’d have no issues. Don’t need to have a riot because we decided to hold some priests accountable for what they might do.”

“Might? Didn’t Byron tell you what happened today? The way there was⁠—”

A thunderous explosion cut her off. The dishes on the shelves rattled, and the windows vibrated in their frames. Marge dropped a plate, which shattered on the floor.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Then Jos was on his feet, heading to the window. “That came from the east.”

Ellie joined him, peering out into the darkness. An orange glow illuminated the night sky in the distance, and even from here, she could see a plume of smoke rising.

A second explosion rocked the house, this one closer, strong enough that Ellie had to brace herself against the window frame. The arcane lanterns flickered, dimming momentarily before stabilizing.

“Sacred Souls,” Jos muttered.

Marge was already moving. She retrieved Jos’s sword from its place near the door, handling the weapon with the ease of long familiarity. “Go,” she said, pressing it into his hands. “I’ll check on the neighbors.”

Jos buckled on the sword, his movements practiced despite his age. “Ellie⁠—”

“Right behind you,” she said, already adjusting the blades at her waist.

A pounding at the door interrupted them. Jos yanked it open to reveal a young constable, his uniform dusted with debris and his face smudged with soot.

“Investigator Jos,” the constable panted. “Multiple explosions across the eastern and harbor districts. Captain Lijanna requests all available Investigators.”

“Any casualties?” Jos asked.

The constable shook his head. “Don’t know. I was just sent to get you.” He glanced at Ellie. “It’s good the Blade is also here. I think the captain is going to want her involved as well.”

“Let her know that we are on our way,” Jos said, fatigue in his voice.

As the constable hurried off, Marge gave Ellie a small package. “Leftover bread,” she said simply. “Be careful.”

Ellie tucked the package into her jacket. “You too. Stay inside if you can.”

Outside, the streets had erupted into chaos. Citizens hurried in all directions, some fleeing toward their homes, others rushing toward the explosions out of curiosity or concern for loved ones. Constables attempted to maintain order, directing people away from the affected areas while simultaneously trying to reach the explosion sites themselves.

Jos moved with surprising speed as he weaved through the crowd with Ellie close behind. The air grew thicker with smoke as they approached, and the smell of burning wood and something else—something acrid and chemical—filled Ellie’s nose.

“This way,” he called, taking a side street that would lead them to the warehouse district more quickly.

A third explosion sounded in the distance, followed by screams. The sky had an eerie haze that left an odd itch across her skin. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but she didn’t like the way it made her feel. Like there was a lingering sense of power, but a power of what sort?

They rounded a corner and came upon the first explosion site. What had once been a warehouse was now a smoking crater, debris scattered in all directions. Buildings nearby had partially collapsed, their structures damaged by the blast. Constables formed a perimeter, keeping civilians back while others searched for survivors in the wreckage.

Byron stood near the edge of the destruction, coordinating a group of Investigators. He looked up as Jos and Ellie approached, relief evident on his face.

“Jos. Ellie. Thank the Souls you’re here.”

“What happened?” Jos asked, surveying the devastation.

“I’m not really sure,” Byron said. “Just a massive explosion. Then another at the shipwright’s yard, and a third near the east market. All within minutes of each other.”

It felt coordinated. And Ellie didn’t like that.

“Anything strategic here that would make this place a target?” she asked, looking from Byron to Jos.

“Not really,” Jos said. “I can’t say that there is anything in particular that would make it useful for anybody to destroy things here. Unless the entire purpose was chaos.”

Ellie could see that, but it didn’t fit with what she had encountered in the past.

“Anything else?” she asked.

Byron looked as if he was keeping something from her based on the way he shifted in place.

“Get on with it,” Ellie said.

“There was a report of somebody from Rosark coming through here. Not sure what to make of it or if it’s anything significant, but…”

“But if they are involved, it changes things, doesn’t it?” she muttered. It was mostly to herself, and mostly because she wasn’t sure what to do if that was the case. Dorian would need to know, but how would he react, especially if Selene was somehow involved?

She leaned down and picked up a piece of debris. When she did, she felt a pressure against her, something that suggested there was magic to it, but she wasn’t positive what it was. She tossed it, and the moment it made contact with other parts of the debris pile, it disintegrated into dust.

“Sacred Souls,” Jos muttered.

Ellie stepped closer, careful not to touch anything. She extended her awareness and used her Blade ability to feel for any remaining power. She felt residual energy. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it might not even necessarily be fabricated power. That was the hard part. If it was a fabrication, Ellie could seek out the source, disarm it, and deal with it. But if it was something else…

Something else meant that there might be somebody who was responsible for it, with the kind of power she wasn’t equipped to handle easily.

The timing also felt wrong.

The Guild. Aliason. The Custodians. The Servants. Even the Arbiters.

How did this all come together?

Ellie paced around the explosion site, using her Blade ability and cycling the power the way Ralen had taught her. Even as she did, she wasn’t able to detect anything significant. Strangely, she was able to pick up on that burning sensation, however.

And it did feel as if there was some sort of residual energy, although Ellie wasn’t sure what it was.

“I felt this before,” she said, looking over to Jos, who had been trailing after her. “I’m not sure why, and I don’t know what it is, but I have felt this.”

“I don’t know what to say. I think this was one of the places the Custodians were preaching, but…”

“Could they have left something here?”

It was a question mainly for herself, and she didn’t expect Jos to answer, but he shook his head, nonetheless.

“Don’t know. I can have the Investigators look into it and see if there’s a pattern.”

She nodded absently.

“I need to talk to the constables and to Lijanna,” she said.

But before Ellie could head off, she saw Lijanna approaching, striding through the smoke and chaos, her uniform torn and a cut above one eye trailing blood. When she saw Ellie, relief spread across her features.

“Good, you’re here,” Lijanna said.

“Have you figured anything out?”

“No. There have been five different explosions so far.” She looked over to Jos, and something passed between them, although Ellie wasn’t sure what it was. “I can’t say the purpose behind them, as I don’t know, but you had me looking into Rosark?”

“Don’t tell me…”

Lijanna nodded. “Right. At each site, there are reports that there was somebody from Rosark present.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Jos murmured.

“I agree,” Ellie said.

“What doesn’t make sense? That we’ve had explosions, or that Rosark might be somehow involved?” Lijanna asked.

“Both,” Ellie said. “Their involvement just seems unlikely. They came for some trade delegation. They’ve been meeting with the council, and I have a hard time thinking they would attack the city.”

“So somebody wants to make it look like Rosark is involved?” Lijanna asked.

Ellie breathed out heavily. She didn’t know. The difficult part was that she still felt that residual energy, which left her with questions. If the Custodians were part of this, the real question was why.

“Let’s go take a look at some of the other explosion sites,” Ellie said. “Then we can decide what we need to do.”

She held Lijanna’s gaze. If it came down to it, and if they had to go after the Rosark delegation, Ellie was going to need the constables.

The challenge was that she wasn’t sure it was a battle she was ready to fight just yet.

Chapter

Fifteen

Ellie was exhausted. She hadn’t expected to spend so much time out here, and certainly didn’t think it was going to take the entire night, but there had been even more explosions. She had started to think they would eventually find out who was responsible for them, but they never did.

Smoke still curled skyward from multiple explosion sites, the acrid smell permeating everything. The initial chaos had given way to slowly increasing order as constables established perimeters, Investigators gathered evidence, and people in the city began the process of salvaging what remained. Even the Empyrean had been involved, although Ellie suspected that they would have been more concerned about the safety of the palace, and with Dorian himself.

She stood at the edge of what had once been a merchant’s storeroom, her muscles aching with weariness. She, Jos, and the Investigators had worked through the night, moving from one site to another, searching for patterns and clues. Fatigue pulled at her, but urgency kept her moving.

“One more,” Jos said, his voice rough from smoke and lack of sleep. He looked every year of his age now, the lines in his weathered face deep with soot and worry. He passed Ellie a water flask. “We need to check the fish market site.”

Ellie nodded, taking a grateful swallow. The water couldn’t wash away the taste of ash in her mouth, but it helped. She handed the flask back to Jos. She needed to report in to Dorian. As the night had gone on, and as she had grown increasingly convinced that there was something more taking place, she had felt certain that he would need to be informed about what they had discovered, but she was also uncertain what Dorian would be able to do.

Wasn’t this what he had trained her for?

Wasn’t this why she served him?

For so long, Ellie had questioned her purpose in the city and how she was supposed to be able to help. Now she did feel like she had a sense of purpose—she just wasn’t sure what that was going to be: find what the Custodians, the Servants, and even the Guild were after, and deal with it, she assumed.

“Anything from your runners?” she asked.

Jos grimaced. “Reports of more explosions at other Custodian gathering spots. We’re up to a dozen now.”

That confirmed what they’d begun to suspect in the early hours of the morning—every explosion had occurred at a location where the Custodians had held their gatherings. The question remained why?

As far as Ellie had been able to gather, there didn’t seem to be anything about these locations that was significant. So what reason would the attackers have for causing such destruction? She didn’t know, and it troubled her.

Byron approached carrying a rolled parchment under his arm, his uniform stained with soot. “The map’s updated,” he said, unfolding it on a makeshift table of stacked crates.

Lijanna had been working with the constables, getting people out of the streets, searching for any injured or killed, and coordinating with her people, and Ellie knew that there was very little that Lijanna would be able to do when it came to anything with magic. There was a part of Ellie that wondered if Jos and the Investigators might be better served helping them, freeing Ellie to work on her own. Or better yet, perhaps she needed to get Blades involved.

But she had not yet.

Ellie and Jos leaned in to examine the map. Someone had marked each explosion site with red ink, creating a constellation of destruction. Seeing them all at once made the pattern undeniable.

She studied the markings. The explosions weren’t random—they formed a specific shape around the city, like points on a circle. Or more accurately, like points defining the perimeter of something larger.

“I don’t recognize it,” Byron said. “Some kind of a fabrication pattern? Or a message?”

Ellie shook her head. It had a shape, but she wasn’t sure what it meant. It did remind her a little bit of something she had seen somewhere, although she wasn’t sure what it was. If Tabitha were here, maybe she would recognize it.

“Run this over to the archives,” she said. “Get Tabitha involved. I need to check on something.”

She closed her eyes, reaching for her Blade ability. Using Ralen’s technique, she cycled energy through her fingertips and toes, creating that steady rhythm that had grown more natural with practice. As the power flowed, she extended her awareness outward.

The residual energy at the site responded to her probing, vibrating with a familiarity that made her breath catch. It resonated with the burning sensation inside her—the same power that had awakened when she’d destroyed the relic in Buruketh.

She wasn’t exactly sure if it was the same sensation, but in a way, it did strike her as close enough that she was left questioning whether it was the same kind of power. Maybe the Custodians were active and trying to find another similar relic. She wasn’t sure what that meant for her if so, or whether there was anything at all for her to do.

There was something else—a pulling sensation, as if something were tugging at her from a great distance. The feeling was subtle but unmistakable, like a current in deep water. It seemed to be coming from somewhere outside the city, drawing on her, calling to that burning energy within her.

“Ellie?” Jos’s voice seemed distant.

She opened her eyes, finding him watching her with concern. “There’s something wrong with these sites,” she said. “The residual energy—it’s connected somehow. And it’s pulling on something.”

“Pulling on what?”

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s pulling on me.”

Jos’s frown deepened. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not,” said a familiar voice from behind them.

Ellie turned to find Ralen approaching, looking as if he’d been through the same long night they had. His clothes were dust-covered, his face grim.

“You’ve been investigating too?” she asked.

“Following the pattern,” he replied. “I need to show you something.”

“Who is this?” Jos asked.

“This is Ralen, and he’s a fabrication breaker.” At least it was easy enough to explain his role regarding this. Byron was watching and looking as if he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Byron knew that Ralen had a different role and likely would have said something to Jos, but at this point, Ellie wasn’t sure that it made much difference.

Ellie glanced at Jos, who nodded. “Lead the way.”

Ralen guided them through the city’s eastern quarter, away from the most recent explosions. The streets here were older, the buildings weathered by centuries of sun and salt air. Few people were about; most had either fled or were helping with recovery efforts elsewhere.

They stopped before what appeared to be nothing more than an abandoned temple ruin—not destroyed in the attacks, but damaged long ago and never fully restored. Ancient stone pillars, cracked and worn, stood like silent sentinels. Vines had claimed portions of the walls, weaving through gaps where mortar had crumbled away.

Ralen led them to a section of wall that had partially collapsed, revealing older stonework beneath. The exposed section bore markings that Ellie recognized as Inarak, but there was something different about them—something older.

Plenty of places like that existed throughout the city. Places where there was power. Oftentimes it was incredible power, and oftentimes it was old, practically ancient. She hadn’t expected to find anything like that here.

“This is what I’ve been looking into,” Ralen said, his voice low. “The explosions weren’t the goal—they were the means. To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what they have been after, just that there seems to be ancient seals placed throughout the city.”

Ellie couldn’t help but wonder if Zaren had known. If he had, why wouldn’t he have said something?

“Inarak seals?” Jos asked, studying the markings with a practiced eye.

“Older,” Ralen replied. “The Inarak built upon these. They incorporated the existing protections into their own structures, probably without fully understanding what they were.”

“Then what are they?” Ellie asked. “Who placed them?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Ralen’s eyes met hers. “Whatever they are, they’ve been containing something. And now that containment is weakening.”

It was not all that dissimilar to what they had encountered in Buruketh.

Ellie felt the pulling sensation again, stronger now that she was aware of it. It tugged at her core, where that burning power resided.

“It’s drawing on me,” she said. “Whatever’s being released—it’s connected to what’s inside me.”

Jos looked between them, confusion evident in his expression. “Someone want to explain what you’re talking about?”

Ellie’s answer was interrupted by distant thunder.

“Another explosion?” Jos asked.

She shook her head. “No. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not an explosion. It’s powerful, though.”

“And far away,” Ralen said.

Once again, Ellie could feel that strange pulling sensation, and it seemed to be growing more potent. She wasn’t sure why, much like she wasn’t sure what it was that she had started to detect. Maybe it was just her fatigue that made her feel like it was becoming stronger.

“Why all this work?” Ellie asked.

“I don’t know, but the Servants wouldn’t go to this much trouble unless it was significant,” Ralen said.

“The Servants?” Jos’s voice sounded tired. “I thought we were dealing with Custodians.”

“They’re connected,” Ellie explained. “The Custodians serve the Servants, whether they know it or not. But there’s something else at play here.”

“What about Rosark, though?” Jos asked. “Reports placed Rosark delegates at multiple explosion sites.”

“I’m still not sure that makes any sort of sense,” Ellie said, thinking of Dorian and Selene. “Why would Rosark be involved in this?”

“Perhaps they’re not,” Ralen suggested. “Perhaps someone wants us to think they are. Rosark has had their issues with the Servants. I don’t know all the details, but maybe that is something you could ask your king about. I would imagine that he, and his companion, might know more.”

Ellie couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Dorian having a companion. What would he think of that?

The sound of running footsteps interrupted them. They turned to see a young Investigator named Grant sprinting toward them, his face flushed with exertion.

“Jos,” Grant panted. “You told us to get you if we came across one of the priests. We found one near the harbor wall.”

Jos looked to Ellie. “Worth checking?”

“Definitely.”

They followed Grant through narrow streets and alleyways, moving swiftly but cautiously. The harbor wall came into view, its weathered stones showing signs of recent repair. A solitary figure in blue-and-gold robes stood near one of the watchtowers and seemed to be radiating a bit of energy.

“That’s not a normal Custodian ritual,” Ralen muttered.

“How can you tell?” Jos asked.

“The movements. Too precise. Too—” He broke off as the figure began to turn toward them, sensing their approach.

For a moment everything was calm.

Then the man faced them. As soon as he did, Ellie felt something, although she wasn’t sure what it was. All she knew was that this was no Custodian.

A Servant.

“You’re too late,” he said with a smile, his voice carrying on the early-morning air. “The Sovereign’s path is clear now.”

“Sovereign,” Jos muttered. “The same one the Custodians preach about.”

“It’s not just that they’re preaching about him,” Ralen said, reaching for his sword. “They serve him. As do the Servants.”

“Byron, get Jos out of here,” Ellie said.

“What?”

“Just—”

She didn’t have a chance to finish.

The attack came with blinding speed—not a physical assault but a wave of disruptive energy that rippled toward them. Ellie pushed back with her own ability, creating a barrier the way Ralen had taught her. The energies collided with a concussive force that shook the ground beneath their feet.

Thankfully, it seemed to offer a measure of protection, keeping the blast from striking Byron and Jos, although Ellie wasn’t sure if it was even going to be enough.

She reached for her blades. Ralen glanced in her direction and nodded.

Ellie darted forward. The last time she had encountered one of the Servants, she had very nearly not survived. She wasn’t sure that she was any better prepared now. Maybe better trained, although even that didn’t feel quite right. She had learned how to use her Blade ability in ways she had not used it before, but she still felt as if there were parts of what she might need to do that were limited in some manner.

Ralen reached the Servant first.

The man was fast. Impossibly so. Then again, she had seen that when fighting Jerath, so she knew that was likely going to be the case.

Their blades clashed.

Behind her, she heard Jos or Byron call out, worry in their voice. She couldn’t think about it. She focused on her Blade ability, cycling the power through and extending it into her blade. It was the only way she thought she could overpower the Servant. If she could use her Blade ability, then maybe she could disrupt whatever they were doing and give them some time.

A burst of energy rolled over her. It was unfamiliar, and had she not been already cycling the power within her, she wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Thankfully, she was already doing so and creating enough of a barricade that she managed to withstand it, but she grew increasingly concerned that she wasn’t going to be strong enough. That force slammed into her, and it took everything in her power to overwhelm that—and Ellie didn’t feel as if she was weak by any means. She pushed, and with a surge, she expanded through it, and energy crackled as it was released.

The Servant staggered back.

Ralen drove his blade toward the Servant.

The man was fast. He twisted and blocked Ralen’s attack. Ellie rushed forward, twin blades slicing. She missed.

It reminded her of when she had been sparring with Jerath. At the time, she had thought he was just capable. Now she wondered if he had been playing with her, or perhaps testing what her capabilities were. Regardless, if there were others of that same talent, she wasn’t sure she could disarm this man.

Not with conventional fighting.

But she didn’t have to rely on that, did she?

Ellie had other ways of fighting, other techniques, and it didn’t have to be only her Blade ability. She started again, and now she could still feel some of that burning energy that had started to plague her when she had headed north. Something about that had been significant, and until she had a better understanding of what it was and why she had that power, she wasn’t sure it made any difference. First, however, she knew that she had to try to use it. She didn’t know if it would even be possible, but she pushed that sense—that burning, that energy—into the cycling of power she had been using, and felt a strange tingling of energies.

A blast of energy exploded from her.

Not only that, but it seemed as if the air around Ellie began to shimmer, taking on something of a haze that had filled the air the night before. She hurtled toward the Servant.

Her blades crossed, and she slashed at him, managing to cut his arm. He dropped his weapon.

Then Ralen was there, his blade driving into the man’s chest.

The Servant sucked in a sharp breath, held his hands up, and for a moment Ellie could practically see the air shimmering around him as he was building up power.

“Back,” Ralen said, urgency in his voice.

“What?”

“Get back. Mimic, remember?”

Mimic.

She remembered what he had told her, and she recalled what Jerath had been capable of doing. They had some way of copying power.

With a surge of shadows and darkness, the air began to tremble. Ellie braced, not at all sure what was happening but able to feel something uncertain, uneasy, and unpleasant. That power expanded, and then, with a sudden explosion, she was thrown backward into a nearby building.

Her vision went dark. She thought maybe the Servant’s shadows were responsible, but she blinked, and it cleared. Her back throbbed with pain, and as she tried to move, Ellie found that everything within her hurt.

She started to get up, and then Ralen was there, helping her to her feet. She could feel the energy radiating off him in a way she had not felt before. There was power within him, an amount she could not even fathom, far more than she would’ve realized he was capable of wielding, but it practically stretched from him in a cloud.

“Where did he go?” Ellie asked.

There was no sign of the Servant.

Ralen shook his head. “Gone.”

“He escaped?”

“No, not escaped. He’s gone. That’s what they do. They won’t get captured. They just…” He waved his hand. “Whatever that was. I think it’s their way of sacrificing themselves to the cause.”

“But what cause?” Ellie asked.

Because right now, she had no answer as to what it was the Servants were after, or what they had done. All she knew was that something had changed in the city, and she was growing increasingly concerned that she was not going to be strong enough to stop it.

Chapter

Sixteen

Exhaustion dragged Ellie down like a physical weight as she made her way through the palace gates. Dawn had broken hours ago, but the events of the night still clung to her—the explosions, the confrontation with the Servant, the strange pulling sensation that had grown steadily stronger. Her muscles ached, her clothes smelled of smoke, and her mind was a tangle of half-formed theories and growing concerns.

The Empyrean at the entrance nodded as she passed. One of them, a younger man she didn’t recognize, looked at her soot-stained clothing with widened eyes but quickly composed his expression when she met his gaze. Word of the night’s events had clearly spread throughout the palace.

As she crossed the entrance hall, Ellie realized something had changed. The palace felt different—or rather, her perception of it had shifted. She wasn’t sure if it was tied to the fact that the burning sensation had persisted, leaving her with an energy that lingered inside her, although it didn’t change anything for her. At least, not that she could tell. The only thing she knew with certainty was that she had gradually begun to feel as if her Blade ability had expanded beyond what it had been before, though she wasn’t sure why or what that meant.

She’d tried to work with that power but had not been able to do anything with it, not with control. And that was what she needed.

Somehow.

“Lady Ellie?”

She turned to find Renail approaching, his thin wire-framed glasses perched on his nose.

“The king has been asking about you,” he said, studying her disheveled appearance with barely concealed concern. “He’s been monitoring the situation in the city since the first explosion.”

“Where is he now?”

“In his private study. He instructed me to bring you to him the moment you returned.” Renail hesitated, his gaze lingering on the tear in her sleeve and the soot staining her clothes. “Perhaps you might want to refresh yourself first?”

“I’m sure he would be irritated if I did,” Ellie said, already moving toward the staircase that would lead to Dorian’s private quarters. “Tell him I’m on my way.”

She let out a soft sigh as she started through the palace, cycling her Blade ability. Even that was tiring now. Maybe she was far more exhausted than she realized. She felt as if she had been running throughout the night, and felt as if she were weaker than she would’ve expected, as this was not a usual sensation for her to have when it came to her Blade ability.

She reached Dorian’s study, which was tucked away in one of the older sections of the palace. Using her ability, she could feel him on the other side of the door, or at least she could feel the fabrications that he carried with him. When she reached the door, she knocked once and then entered without waiting for a response.

The study was smaller than most would expect for a king, its walls lined with books and maps rather than the expected displays of wealth and power. A massive desk of dark, polished wood dominated the center of the room, its surface currently covered with maps of Busal City. Different colored markers dotted the parchment, and Ellie immediately recognized the pattern of explosion sites in red. Had he gotten a report from the constables or from the Empyrean?

Dorian stood behind the desk, his shoulders tense as he studied the map. He looked up as she entered, relief washing briefly across his features before being replaced by his usual measured expression.

“Ellie,” he said, straightening. “I was beginning to be concerned.”

“I’ve been a bit busy.” She approached the desk, and her gaze fell on the map. “I see you’ve been tracking the explosions.”

“I’ve been trying to. When I heard the city was under attack, I had the Empyreans get word to me. It seems as if they were not helpful.”

“They were, but not merely responsible. I had the Investigators involved.”

He nodded slowly. “Useful, but it’s times like these when I wish that we had more of a Blade presence.”

“Are you saying you didn’t want me to be involved?”

“No. Not at all. I think you and your ability were essential. It’s just that I wonder what we would have done had you not been here.”

She let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I’m still not exactly sure what they were doing. Apparently, they were trying to destroy seals that are on the city, or that the city forms. Again, I’m not entirely sure.”

Dorian sat up. “Seals?” Ellie nodded, and he reached into a drawer in his desk and brought out an old book. As he thumbed through the pages, it occurred to her that it was some sort of journal. “I’ve been trying to figure out why Busal City was targeted. Not just by the fae, not just the Inarak, but targeted in a different way. Something tells me that we were once a place of greater power.”

“Oh?” She was too tired to think through things. “What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know. We’ve seen threats in the city…” He shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Ever since I came here, I have been aware that there’s more to this place than there should be, I suppose. Power that is here. With what we’ve already faced, and now with what you’ve seen, plus the rumors that keep making their way to me, I was hoping you might help me better understand it.” He blew out a long breath. “Actually, I was hoping your mentor would help me, but he decided he didn’t want to stay.”

That surprised her. “I didn’t think you and Zaren got along.”

“We got along just fine. I knew what he wanted, and he knew what I wanted. I thought that by not causing a fuss when he went away, we might learn a little more from him and from those he connected to. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem as if he has sent word in some time.”

She snorted. “Years, now. I don’t know where he is, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”

“I’ve long ago learned that you would not betray your connection to him. Not that I would ask you to, but I had hoped that perhaps he would reach out to you. Whatever he’s doing, and whatever he thinks he could find, is useful for us. Even if he doesn’t know it.”

Ellie closed her eyes, breathing softly. Every so often, she could still feel that curious sensation. “Whatever they did has left me with the feeling of something drawing on me. It feels like it’s pulling.”

“What?”

She opened her eyes, looking over.

Dorian’s expression sharpened. “Pulling you where?”

“I’m not sure. Outside the city, I think. North, maybe?” She shook her head in frustration. “It’s hard to pinpoint.”

“You think it’s tied to whatever it is that they did last night?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. It’s only since then that I started to notice it, but I do suspect it’s tied to it, especially after what one of the Servants said.”

“There was one here in Busal City?”

“I’m guessing we have had them in the city far longer than we realize.”

“Have they been dealt with?”

That was all he cared about, wasn’t it? Making sure the city was safe. Then again, shouldn’t that be his concern, and shouldn’t it be hers?

“Yes.” Ellie met his gaze. “There’s something else I need to know. What is Rosark doing here? Really doing here?”

Dorian’s expression shifted, becoming more guarded. “Officially, they’re here for trade negotiations.”

“And unofficially?”

He sighed, moving around the desk to stand nearer to her. “Unofficially, I assume their presence is tied to the same thing you’ve been investigating. Rosark has its own ancient sites, its own mysteries. Selene has been evasive when I’ve pressed for details, but mentioned that their archives contain references to the Sovereign. When you told me what you dealt with in Buruketh, I knew we needed to work with them. She’s been hesitant to share, wanting to know our intentions first.”

It surprised Ellie that he had been pressing for details, but then, she had also been somewhat surprised that he had been hopeful Zaren would return and provide information. Even after all this time, Dorian still surprised her.

“So you haven’t told her what’s happening?”

“Not everything,” Dorian admitted. “Our history complicates matters.”

“I need to talk to her,” Ellie said.

“I don’t think that’s wise. Selene is⁠—”

“There were reports of Rosark delegates at multiple explosion sites,” she said, hating that she had to cut him off. “Lijanna’s constables confirmed it. Either they’re involved, or someone wants us to think they are. Either way, I need to speak with her.”

Dorian studied her, then nodded slowly. “I’ll arrange it. But be careful what you reveal, Ellie. Selene is perceptive.”

A sudden wave of the pulling sensation washed over her, stronger than before. She grimaced and placed a hand against the wall to steady herself. The stone felt warm beneath her palm, resonating with the energy inside her.

Concern flickered across Dorian’s face. “Are you all right?”

The sensation passed, leaving her feeling drained but focused. “I’m fine, but I’m concerned about what this means. Whatever they’re releasing—whatever’s drawing on me—it’s getting stronger.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You know that this is what you’ve trained for.”

“So you knew this was going to happen?”

“Not exactly, but I had a feeling that things weren’t quite as simple as what my sister believed. I assumed there was more taking place, especially as so many strange events have often occurred in and around Busal. I have also suspected that you had talent. Not suspected, actually. I’ve known.” He took a deep breath. “I just wish it wasn’t so dangerous for you.”

“Still trying to protect me?”

“Always.”

She wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. At the same time, she also felt surprisingly reassured. Between him and Jos, Ellie had no shortage of people who cared for her.

“Can you arrange a meeting with Selene, then?” she asked.

“Don’t make me regret it,” he said.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Before you do, get cleaned up, would you? I suppose you have a place you’d like to meet her?”

“The garden.”

“Why there?”

Ellie shrugged, getting to her feet. “Because if there are any fabrications, the garden will permit me to find them more easily. If there are not, well, the garden is just pretty.”

He snorted. “Do you want me there?”

“Would she want you there?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps not. It might be better for you to find what you are looking for on your own.”

“Then I’ll go alone. Give me a little time to get cleaned up.”

“It will take me some time to get word to her, anyway. Go on, now.”

“Thank you,” she said.

Dorian turned his attention back to the map, and Ellie headed out. She was uncertain. Not about Dorian or what he was after, because she knew that he was concerned about the safety of the city and about what the Servants might do to Busal, but she was concerned about the tension in his voice when she had mentioned meeting with Selene.

There was something there, something Ellie needed to try to understand, and probably needed to protect him from, even if he wasn’t aware of it.

She took a bath, and by the time she was dressed and heading over to the garden, she felt better. Not great, but certainly refreshed. She needed a nap, but that was not going to be in the cards for the day.

The garden was a quiet, secluded space set off near one of the old temples of the Sacred Souls. That was part of the reason she wanted to meet Selene here. Maybe Selene would know something about the Sacred Souls and what the Servants had to do with them.

She hadn’t been here since she’d returned, but she always enjoyed her visits in the garden. The air carried the fragrance of dozens of different flowers, and there was an undercurrent of power here—something she could feel, but she wasn’t entirely sure the source of it. Fabrications, possibly, but it seemed to be tied to something else as well.

Ancient trees provided dappled shade, their branches creating a natural canopy over stone benches and carefully tended flower beds. At its center stood a simple marble fountain, its water catching the midday light and casting dancing reflections across the surrounding stone.

Ellie had always found peace in this place, away from the bustle of the palace. Today, however, the garden felt charged with tension—or perhaps that was simply her own anticipation. She paced the perimeter, trailing her fingers along the old stone walls, feeling the subtle energies that permeated even this seemingly mundane space.

When Selene arrived, alone, she did so with quiet grace. She wore a simple gown of deep blue, her dark hair swept up in an elaborate style that emphasized her elegant features. Ellie used her Blade ability to test the techniques she had been working on with Ralen, and she felt something different about Selene and the way she carried herself. It had a bit of power to it, though Ellie wasn’t quite sure what it was. Almost like Aliason, although not quite identical. Odd, that.

“Lady Ellie,” Selene said, her voice careful. “Dorian mentioned you wished to speak with me.”

“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” Ellie replied, gesturing to one of the stone benches. “Please, sit.”

Selene settled onto the bench with practiced elegance. “I understand you’ve had quite a night. The explosions have everyone in the palace on edge.”

“Including Rosark’s delegation?” Ellie remained standing. She wanted the slight advantage of height for this conversation.

“Naturally,” Selene said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Such violence is concerning to everyone, especially as we are visitors here.”

“Especially when Rosark delegates were spotted at several explosion sites shortly before the blasts.”

The smile remained fixed on Selene’s face, but something in her eyes sharpened. “An unfortunate coincidence, I’m sure. My people have been exploring the city, as any visitors might.”

“All at the same time? All at locations where the Custodians had been preaching?”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with these Custodians you mention,” Selene said. There was something too quick in her response. Almost too practiced. “Perhaps you could enlighten me.”

Ellie felt herself being studied with hidden intensity. Whatever Selene’s purpose here, she was far more than she appeared. Ellie needed to tread carefully. There was grace in Selene’s every movement, but also something evasive—like she knew more than she let on.

“They’re priests who preach about the return of the Sovereign,” Ellie said, watching for a reaction. “They’ve been gathering followers throughout the city for weeks.”

Something flickered in Selene’s eyes—recognition, Ellie thought. Definitely not surprise.

“Ah,” Selene said. “Religious zealots. Every city has them, I suppose.”

“These ones are different,” Ellie pressed. “They work with a group called the Servants of Ascendance.”

This time, the reaction was unmistakable. Selene’s posture stiffened, the power Ellie sensed around her surging briefly before being carefully controlled again.

“You know of them,” Ellie said. It wasn’t a question.

Selene studied her for a long moment, then sighed. “Yes, I know of them. They are problematic.”

“Problematic is one way to put it,” Ellie said dryly. “They killed one of our Empyreans, replaced him with one of their own, and tried to activate an ancient relic that…” She wasn’t sure how to describe what they had intended. “Anyway, now they’re setting off explosions throughout the city for some unknown purpose.”

“You know more than I expected,” Selene admitted, her demeanor shifting. The careful diplomacy faded, replaced by something more direct and intense. “The Servants have always sought a way to return their Sovereign to power.”

“They really think they can bring the Sacred Souls back?”

Selene regarded her. “You know about that.”

“I spent far more time with one of the Servants than I realized. He made plenty of comments that in hindsight I should have been concerned about.”

“Yes,” Selene said, nodding. “They do believe they can bring the Sacred Souls back, with the Sovereign leading them.”

Ellie glanced over to where the temple had stood, long since collapsed. “What do they intend to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do they intend to do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What is Rosark’s connection to this?”

Selene’s expression darkened. “Busal City is not the only place that sits upon ancient power, Lady Ellie. Someone destroyed one of our border temples last year. They were seeking the same power you’re investigating. We didn’t know who was responsible, only that they were after power. We came to warn you—and to learn your defenses.”

“Our defenses? Why? To see if you could take ours?” That didn’t seem possible. The Inarak ruins couldn’t be moved. Could the power in them be moved, though?

Selene smiled tightly. “We came for trade.”

“Of course,” Ellie said. “But if it were about anything more than trade, if you were here because you were concerned about the Servants and the Sovereign, what would happen if they were to succeed in what they wanted?”

“Then the world as we know it changes. Forever.” Selene studied her with new intensity. “You’ve encountered this power already, haven’t you? I can sense it in you.”

Ellie tensed. “What do you mean?”

Selene continued to watch her, and Ellie wasn’t sure whether she was going to answer, but she could feel something from the other woman.

“I mean that you put yourself in danger. Perhaps that is a mistake.”

“Perhaps. But if something threatens Busal, I will do what I need to do to protect us.”

Selene eyed her up and down. “As will I, to protect Rosark.” She looked around the garden. “You know, it is really quite lovely here. I appreciate your offer to permit me a chance to see the famed Royal Garden. Not many are given such an opportunity.”

“No,” Ellie said. “They are not.”

She waited, hoping that Selene might say something else, but she didn’t.

And while Ellie continued to feel that curious drawing sensation, she started to wonder if perhaps whatever it was that she detected was going to take her from the city. Dorian had said that this was what she had been training for, but she couldn’t help wondering what that might be.

She also couldn’t help but question what Rosark knew—and why they had come to Busal when they had. Why wouldn’t they share what they knew?

What did they fear? The Servants, or something else? Did they fear the others that were here as well, others like the Guild—or even the Arbiters?

Ellie simply didn’t know, and she didn’t like that there were so many other things she did not know, either. But what she did know was that the sensation that was pulling upon her continued to do so, and eventually it might become too difficult for her to ignore.

Chapter

Seventeen

The technique that Ralen had tried to get her to learn didn’t seem to be any more effective than Ellie had managed when traveling with him. Maybe it was fatigue. She needed to rest, but perhaps now wasn’t the time. Not with what had happened the night before. Still, if she could find the Servants…

She might be able to understand what they released.

She found herself along the harbor front again, which was not uncommon. She had been coming out here often, and used it as an opportunity to test for any other powers, dangerous or otherwise, that might be found within the city. The harbor stretched before her, a forest of masts swaying gently against the afternoon sky. The ancient stone quays bore the worn marks of centuries of traffic. In the deeper shadows, ripples broke the water’s surface, and patches of bioluminescence ghosted beneath, creating patterns that might have been natural—or something else entirely.

She worked her way along the street, deeper into the city, where she found a market. Local craftsmen displayed their wares on wooden tables—everything from practical cookware to delicate jewelry set with stones that might hold traces of power. A fabricator sat demonstrating minor magical items to draw customers, while nearby an old woman arranged protective fabrications made of dull metal on a faded cloth.

Ellie was drawn by the chaos and the energy of the market, as she often was, although it wasn’t just the energy that pulled on her. There was something here, she was certain. There had to be some sense of the Servants here.

It wasn’t until she was deeper into the city that she noticed why it drew her. There was a subtle vibration in the air, a faint energy signature that resonated with something she’d encountered before. It felt similar to the power she’d detected in Buruketh around the Servants of Ascendance—the same eerie quality that had surrounded Jerath during their confrontation, and then again the night before.

Her instincts screamed danger.

She followed the sensation, weaving through the market stalls and side streets, her hand resting on the hilt of one blade as she tracked the energy signature deeper into the city.

While here, she found herself testing, and she could feel the energy within the square from fabrications. Around markets in Busal City, there were always fabrications, at least these days. Ellie didn’t remember the city before power existed in it, but she had been told that it had been a different place at one point. Emptier, she imagined. Dorian had always embraced different uses of power, so it was not surprising that he would have continued to allow the different fabrications to spread throughout the city, although she wondered if it would make much of a difference if he were to outlaw it. Even when the queen had forbidden power, there had still been other magic here. It just had gone underground, and that made it dangerous. It was better, in Ellie’s opinion, to have a sense of where such things could be found, and to track it, along with those responsible for power.

She weaved through the square. At one point, she saw some dark figures moving through the crowd, clearly outsiders, and her heart skipped a beat as she wondered if they were Servants, before realizing that was not it at all. They were from Rosark. Not that she knew what to make of the fact that they had been seen at the same places as the Custodians. She followed them for a little while before realizing they were heading out to the harbor. Having detected nothing from them, and having no interest in returning to that area, she weaved back into the city.

The section she was in was dominated by taller buildings, their upper stories jutting out over the street to create a tunnel-like effect. The shadows here were deeper, the sounds of the market fading behind her as she entered the merchant quarter where shops displayed increasingly elaborate wares. Windows gleamed with displays of fabricated items, their subtle glow visible even in daylight. Copper weather vanes and iron signs creaked on their brackets in the breeze that swept down from the higher reaches of the city. The street began its gradual climb upward, cobblestones giving way to smoother paving stones as she approached the wealthier district. Buildings grew taller here, their architecture more refined, with carved stone facades and iron-barred windows.

Maybe it was just her anxiety that had brought her out here.

As Ellie started toward the palace, thinking to get some rest, she felt power again.

It was close—too close to be simple chance.

A Servant?

She turned, looking behind her. She found herself in the older district where buildings leaned toward each other across narrow alleyways barely wide enough for a single person to pass. Crumbling stone walls were patched with newer brickwork, creating a patchwork effect that spoke of generations of repairs. Small shrines to the Sacred Souls were set into alcoves at street corners, most neglected since the temple’s fall, but a few still held fresh flowers or small offerings.

Before learning about the Servants, she would have found such things quaint. Now they had a darker meaning.

At one point, she caught a glimpse of some Investigators, but they weren’t coming toward her. One of them, a younger girl by the name of Tirza, glanced at her and flashed a smile before hurrying on with her partner. Ellie wondered what had brought the Investigators out here, and if they had uncovered anything of note, though she doubted they were here for the same reason as her. At this point, the only thing she knew with certainty was that she had felt something. She just wasn’t sure what it was. Not yet.

Power persisted, and it continued following her.

She didn’t see anything, though. Whatever she felt was faint… vague.

Ellie ran her hands along the hilts of her daggers, ready for the possibility that she might need to fight. She didn’t have enough control over her Blade ability, however. Now that she’d used the amount of power she had, along with her fatigue, she didn’t know if there would be enough for her to handle a real danger.

Unless that sensation helped.

She didn’t know if she could control it. Increasingly, Ellie started to think it meant she had some other kind of power beyond just her Blade ability, and perhaps even from her father’s side—but she did know that detecting something meant that there was a strange kind of energy here.

She’d tried to use it, but maybe it was the fear of what had happened on the mountain after leaving the ancient site that had left her scared to draw on it too much. What would happen if she lost control?

Another faint pressure of energy came to her.

This time she was certain it was trailing after her.

She reached a small hilltop. From this vantage point, the city spread below her in layers of red-tiled rooftops and narrow streets, with the harbor a glittering expanse of blue in the distance. The palace rose above it all, its white walls catching the afternoon light. Smoke curled from hundreds of chimneys, and the sound of the city—merchants calling, children playing, craftsmen at work—drifted up as a constant murmur. Between the buildings she could see the squares and gardens that punctuated the urban landscape, and the darker patch that marked the fallen temple of the Sacred Souls. The terraced gardens and vineyards on the city’s outskirts formed a patchwork of green against the dry hills beyond. Several ships were entering the harbor, their sails bright against the water, bringing goods and travelers from distant lands.

She needed to know what followed her.

Ellie used a powerful pulse of her Blade ability. Finally, she picked up on a soft pressure of power and started toward it.

As she headed down the soft slope toward the ruins of the temple of the Sacred Souls, her heart beat faster as she started to think maybe the Servants—and Jerath—were here.

She withdrew her blades.

The temple ruins rose in a jagged silhouette against the sky, the partially collapsed main dome creating a crescent-shaped gap that caught shadows. Massive columns, some still standing while others lay shattered across the wide steps, bore deep veins of black that hadn’t been part of their original patterning—scars from the force that had brought the temple down. The entire site radiated an ancient power, faint but unmistakable.

The figure that stepped forward, however, was not Jerath.

Aliason.

Ellie approached the tall, slender, dark-haired woman and used a pulse of her Blade ability, working it over Aliason as she attempted to determine if there was anything about her that was amiss. As was often the case with Aliason, there was nothing other than a steady, distinct energy that seemed as if it lingered.

Aliason just watched her.

When she was done, Aliason tipped her head in a bit of a nod. “Did you find what you needed?”

Ellie grunted. “I wanted to know if you were carrying any weapons.”

“I didn’t need to carry any weapons. There are no weapons needed here.”

What a strange comment.

Ellie looked around her, taking in the ruins briefly and noticing that there was a different sense to them than what she remembered. The stones seemed to vibrate with a subtle energy that hadn’t been present before, or perhaps she simply hadn’t been attuned to sense it. The carvings along the fallen pillars appeared to shift slightly when viewed from the corner of her eye.

“So did you draw me out here as a test? You disappeared from the tavern. What are you after?”

“I had hoped you could tell me when Zaren will return.”

“I don’t know. It’s been several years since he’s been here, so I think that is probably unpredictable. Your guess is as good as mine.”

Aliason turned and started climbing up the rock. Ellie chased her, scrambling up one of the fallen sections of the ruins. She climbed onto a giant toppled column that now formed a precarious bridge between two still-standing walls. The stone was worn smooth from years of exposure but still bore traces of the intricate carvings that had once decorated its surface. Lichen grew in the deeper grooves, creating a pattern of pale green against the weathered granite.

“Just wait a minute. What are you doing?” Ellie said.

“When did this fall?”

She paused, looking around. “Right before he left.”

“Did he know?” Aliason asked.

“Did he know what?” Confusion rose in her, and more than a bit of concern. The reason the ruins and the old Sacred Souls temple had collapsed was tied to an attack on the city. It was tied to the queen’s death as well, which was something that very few people knew, and those who did know did not speak about it.

“Did he know what was here?” Aliason clarified.

“Yes,” Ellie said.

“I thought as much. Did he leave because of that?”

“I don’t know.” Ellie hurried up to catch her. Aliason had a strange way of moving, almost as if she were gliding rather than walking or climbing the way Ellie did. “He thought his job was done. The queen died during the attack. His assignment was over, or he thought it was.”

She glanced at Ellie, taking a breath and then nodding. “Then I need to go.”

“Wait. Just like that?”

“I came looking for him.”

“If there’s anything I can help with, I would like to,” Ellie offered.

Especially because there had to be a reason for Aliason’s presence in the city. The fact that she was asking about the temple of the Sacred Souls suggested she was connected to it. And given what Ellie had just learned of the Servants and the danger they posed, it all seemed far too coincidental—much more so than she was comfortable with.

“It would be unwise to involve others, especially with this,” Aliason said.

“What? Even though there have been other dangers around here?”

Aliason turned to her, and this time as she looked at Ellie, there was something in her gaze that seemed more perceptive than it had been before. Ellie felt something vibrate deep inside of her. There was a brief flash, a hint of warmth that washed over her, and then it all faded, dispersing into nothingness.

It happened so quickly that Ellie thought she might have imagined it.

“You don’t understand the dangers,” Aliason said.

“No? It’s not the first time I faced the Servants,” Ellie said. “The other was in the old ruins outside Buruketh.”

Aliason moved away from her, climbing to the highest point in the ruins. She reached what had once been the temple’s central dome, now reduced to a crescent of stone that balanced precariously on remaining supports. From this vantage point, the entire city was visible, but Aliason’s gaze seemed focused on something beyond, her eyes fixed on a point in the distance that Ellie couldn’t see—but could feel.

The wind had picked up, swirling around the ruins and causing Aliason’s dark cloak to billow behind her. Ellie was forced to scramble after her.

“That’s it? You just came, and that was it?”

“I needed to see what the song would tell me.” Aliason stood there for a moment, swaying. Ellie could almost feel something, though as she attempted to make sense of what it was, she did not detect anything. She was also a little concerned about using her Blade ability, not wanting to disrupt what Aliason was doing. She didn’t know if she even could, but she certainly didn’t want to unsettle her power, especially if she did have the depth of power Ellie suspected. “Now I hear it clearly. It’s time to go.”

“What is it?” Ellie asked. “I feel it, especially after the attack last night.”

“It is dangerous,” Aliason said.

“It’s stronger now. Today. I don’t understand what it is, but you seem to know what it means. I want to know what they did, what seals they have tried to release. Since Buruketh, I feel things differently.” Ellie frowned, thinking about it. The relic had been powerful, and more than that, it had done something to her. “Something about me changed, and now I feel it.”

Aliason suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders, and a sharp vibration washed over her. All of it happened quickly. Everything blurred for a moment, and it felt as if some part of Ellie trembled with it.

Then it passed.

She sucked in a sharp breath, reaching for her blades, but Aliason had taken a step away from her and no longer seemed to be any sort of a threat. If she ever had been.

“What was that?” Ellie snapped.

“My apologies.”

“You just attacked me?”

“Not an attack. I was checking something,” Aliason said. “There is a uniqueness to you, and you must embrace it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know how, nor do I know what it is.”

Aliason looked into the distance. “Unfortunate. But great powers slumber, and they seek to awaken, both here and beyond. Those who understand try to keep those powers from awakening. I do not know if we will be enough.”

“What kind of powers?” Ellie asked, but she had a steady, sneaking suspicion about what they were, especially given what she had been hearing and, for that matter, what they had been dealing with when it came to different kinds of powers. More than that, she had a sneaking suspicion because of what Jerath had been after. Some power tied to the Sacred Souls. “You mean the Sovereign?”

Aliason watched her for a moment. “The kind that cannot reach us.”

“If it does?”

Aliason continued to rock in place, looking as if she were listening to something only she could hear. “The song draws me, and I must follow. Listen to your own song. Protect your people.” She tipped her head, almost bowing. Then, with a quick jump, she bounded down the ruins, faster than Ellie could follow, and disappeared into the city. Ellie doubted she would be able to track her.

Chapter

Eighteen

The quietness of Ellie’s room in the palace should have offered comfort. After the chaos of the last two days—the explosions, the confrontation with the Servant, Aliason’s cryptic warnings—she deserved rest. Instead, she found herself pacing, unable to settle despite her exhaustion.

Her muscles ached, leaving her feeling as if she’d been sparring for hours, though she’d not fought in a while. Not really. The brief confrontation with the Servant hadn’t been much. Still, her mind kept circling back to all she’d learned and all she still didn’t understand. The Servants, the Custodians, the odd pulling sensation that seemed to be growing stronger with each passing hour.

Why did it seem like it was drawing on her the way that it was?

Finally giving in to her body’s demands, she collapsed onto her bed. The mattress welcomed her, and she felt herself drifting toward sleep. Fitful dreams claimed her, leaving her thinking of a time before Busal City, before Zaren and Dorian and everything she now knew.

Of when her father had still been a part of her life. In her dream, she was four years old again, sitting on her father’s knee as he showed her how to make small pebbles dance across their palms. His hands were large, calloused but gentle as they cupped around her tiny ones.

“Focus, little one,” he whispered, his beard tickling her ear. “Feel the warmth inside you? That’s your gift.”

She remembered giggling as the stones trembled, then rose slightly above her palm, hovering for just a moment before dropping back down.

“Will I be able to make big rocks float too?” she’d asked.

His eyes had darkened then, something sad passing across his face. “Your power will grow, Ellie. But remember, with great gifts come great responsibilities.”

That night, he’d tucked her into bed, lingering longer than usual. “I have to go away for a while,” he’d said, his voice unusually tight. “There are things I must do, people who need me.”

“When will you come back?” she’d asked sleepily.

“When I can,” he’d answered, pressing a small black stone into her hand. “Keep this. When you feel it warm, think of me.”

The next morning, he was gone.

Ellie jolted awake, the memory sharp and clear in a way it hadn’t been for years. The black stone—she’d forgotten about it completely. Her mother had taken it away shortly after, saying it was just a common river rock, nothing special. But now Ellie wondered if it had been something more, something connected to the burning power that had awakened within her.

Sitting up, she rubbed her temples as she considered the implications of the dream. Her father had known about her ability—not just her Blade powers inherited from her mother, but something else. Something that burned. The strange energy she’d felt in Buruketh, the power that had allowed her to destroy the relic rather than channel it as Jerath had intended—that had come from her father’s side.

The Arbiters. Her father had said he belonged to them, that they tracked and contained dangerous ancient powers. Was this burning sensation part of that lineage? A different kind of power altogether from her Blade ability?

She flexed her fingers, trying to summon that burning feeling intentionally rather than reactively. A warm tingle spread through her hands, different from the cool, rippling sensation of her Blade ability.

And then… it faltered.

She had no control, not like she did with her Blade power.

Ellie swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, rubbing her face. She needed answers, and she wasn’t going to find them pacing in her room or caught in unsettling dreams.

A gentle knock came at her door. She crossed the room and opened it to find one of the palace messengers, a young boy with ink-stained fingers.

“Message for you, Lady Ellie,” he said, handing her a folded parchment.

She recognized Tabitha’s handwriting:

Ellie, I’ve found something about the pattern of explosions. It matches something in the old archives—predates even the Inarak records. Meet me as soon as you can. —T

After splashing water on her face from the basin by her bed, Ellie quickly changed into fresh clothes. She strapped her twin blades to her waist—a habit too ingrained to break—and headed out into the palace corridors.

She felt better, but not good. Not yet. She wondered if it was something she would even be able to feel, especially considering everything she had been through so far. She needed rest, more so than she had gotten over one night, and knew it was going to take several nights of better sleep to get back to feeling herself. The problem was that she did not think she was going to have the time for such sleep.

Getting to Tabitha involved heading to the archives, and that meant leaving the palace.

As Ellie hurried down the corridor, she nearly collided with Renail, who was carrying a stack of correspondence.

“Lady Ellie,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “I’m glad to see you’ve rested. You look… somewhat improved.”

She smiled at his diplomatic assessment. “Have you seen Dorian this morning? I may need to speak with him.”

Renail’s expression grew carefully neutral. “His Majesty is currently engaged in a private meeting with the Rosark delegate—Lady Selene. He left instructions not to be disturbed.”

There was something in his tone—a subtle emphasis on “private” and “not to be disturbed”—that suggested more than a formal diplomatic meeting. Ellie couldn’t help but wonder what Dorian and Selene were discussing, and whether it was truly about trade negotiations or something more personal.

“I see,” she said. “When he’s available, please let him know I’ve gone to the archives. There’s been a development I believe he should be informed about.”

“Of course, Lady Ellie,” Renail replied with a small bow. “Though I should mention His Majesty indicated the meeting might continue through much of the day.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow at that, but simply nodded her thanks and continued on her way.

She couldn’t help but feel as if that was probably for the best, especially given that Dorian needed the distraction. Especially if she needed to leave the city, which Ellie increasingly thought she was going to need to do to understand what that drawing sensation was. The hard part was that she still had no idea where it would lead her.

Maybe Tabitha had learned something that would help.

The archives were in an old building on the palace compound, but separated from the main part of the palace. The building was filled with some of the Inarak energy that many of the structures on the palace grounds were filled with, only in this case there was something about the power that existed here that left Ellie all too aware of it. Maybe it was more that she had grown more familiar with that power, or perhaps it was just the fact that she had been drawing on that other aspect of power.

Perhaps something from her father.

Getting inside the archives involved using her Blade ability to activate the fabrications that locked it—something most weren’t able to do. Zaren had long ago told her what she would need to do to get into the archives, though even without his instruction, she would have been able to figure it out.

The archives were filled with shelves stuffed with books, and the familiar smell of old paper and leather bindings. Several archivists moved between the shelves, their footsteps muffled on the stone, and they all looked in her direction. None approached, though. She had long since felt offended by that.

She found Tabitha in one of the side rooms, surrounded by stacks of books and unfurled maps that covered the entire surface of her table. Her friend looked up as Ellie approached, relief washing over her face.

“I was worried about you,” Tabitha said.

“Were you?” Ellie sank down in a chair across from her, looking at the towering stack of books in front of her. “I’m fine.”

“I heard about the explosions, and I figured you were going to be involved in the investigation.”

“Yes and no.”

Ellie filled her in on what had happened. Tabitha sat quietly, and her fingernails drummed along the surface of a book, as if she was trying to decide if there was anything more she needed to say.

“Go on with it,” Ellie said.

“There isn’t anything to tell you,” Tabitha said.

“You’ve been looking into the Servants.”

She assumed but didn’t know. In the time she’d been back in the city, Ellie had not come to visit, mostly because she figured that if her friend had anything to share with her, Tabitha would have come to her.

“The Servants, the Custodians, the Arbiters, even the Guild,” Tabitha said, shrugging as she did. “I figured that if nothing else, we want to better understand all of these different moving elements. It seems as if they are somehow interrelated.”

“I’m not sure how interrelated any of them are,” Ellie said. “The Custodians and the Servants, sure, but the rest…”

“I think they all deal with power,” Tabitha said. “And that’s the key here, isn’t it? The Guild, in particular, is one you have been familiar with the longest, and even they have a power you don’t really understand.”

It was more than that, of course. Ellie still wasn’t quite sure what to make of Aliason’s time in the city, but even beyond that, there was something about Aliason’s presence, and the power she had, that left Ellie with questions but not the answers she wanted—the answers she increasingly thought she was going to need. Aliason’s timing was suspect.

There was more to it, something about the way Aliason had suggested that whatever was happening here was a greater threat than what Ellie had dealt with before. In a way, she knew that Aliason was probably right, but the problem was that she wasn’t sure what that meant for her.

Did Aliason intend for Ellie to ignore what was happening here? Ellie knew that she could not. And did it have anything to do with the Servants and Custodians, or was it more mundane, like Rosark’s presence in the city, or perhaps even the Arbiters?

She had questions, and she didn’t know if there were any good or obvious answers.

“You look as if you have been trying to figure something out,” Tabitha said.

“I’m trying to understand what the Servants were after. They were unleashing power in the city, but I don’t really understand why…”

“Go on,” Tabitha said.

“It’s just that ever since the explosions, I’ve been feeling something drawing on me. I don’t understand it, but there’s a presence. It is dragging me away.”

“Dragging?” A small smile curled Tabitha’s lips. “I didn’t think there was anything that would be able to drag you away, short of maybe your brother again.”

“I don’t know what it is,” Ellie said. “I have been feeling this strange power ever since we went to Buruketh, but it doesn’t feel like what we felt when we were in Buruketh. It does not seem to be amplified by the relic. This is something else, and I’m not sure what it is, nor am I entirely sure why I feel it the way I do.”

“Describe it.”

Ellie closed her eyes. “Sometimes I’m aware of it, and it seems like a burning sensation. It doesn’t ever amplify the way it did when I was holding on to that relic. That was a little different. But when I do feel this, I am aware of some sort of power within it, and it leaves me…” She opened her eyes, looking over to Tabitha. “I don’t know how to describe it.”

“It seems like you are doing a pretty good job of it now.”

“Like I said, I don’t know.”

“Wait here.” Tabitha got up and walked away.

Ellie practiced the cycling technique as she waited for her friend. When Tabitha was like this, she knew better than to interrupt. She was surprised when Tabitha returned with a rolled map and set it down on the table.

“Show me,” Tabitha said.

It was a map of Busal City, but it was an old one, and it didn’t reflect the city as it was now. It had places that had been built over and changed. She could see where the palace was, and the old temple of the Sacred Souls, but there were other places on the map that were not familiar to her.

Ellie began to point out places on the map, generally, where the explosions had taken place.

As she noted them, Tabitha’s brow furrowed further and further. “Nothing really fits, does it?”

“Did you think it would?”

“I wasn’t sure, but I suppose I had been hopeful that it might help us puzzle out what had happened here. You said you’re feeling a drawing sensation?”

“Not from inside the city, though,” Ellie said. “Before you go on to say that it might be from the Twilight Gate, I gave it some thought.” She had even traveled near the gate but had not gone down to it. She generally tried to avoid it, partly because it was closed off and sealed with fabrications, but partly because she didn’t want anything to do with the fae or the power that would come through it. Also, traveling to the gate felt wrong without Zaren, who had been there when she had first learned about it. “Whatever I feel seems to be pulling me outside the city.”

“Show me,” Tabitha said.

“Let me guess. Another map?”

“Not exactly.”

Tabitha motioned for Ellie to follow. She grabbed a book and stuffed it into her satchel, and then they headed out of the archives. One of the other archivists glanced in Tabitha’s direction, and Ellie couldn’t help but feel as if there was a look of disappointment in his gaze.

An older archivist with a neatly trimmed white beard and ink-stained fingers looked up from his ledger as they passed. Ellie recognized him as Master Lorian, the head archivist who had been Tabitha’s mentor since she’d first joined the archives. His sharp blue eyes, magnified by thick spectacles, followed them with disapproval. Unlike most in the palace, Master Lorian had never seemed impressed by Ellie’s position or abilities. To him, she was simply a distraction that kept his most promising student from her proper studies.

“He doesn’t seem too pleased with us leaving,” Ellie said.

“Oh, I think he’s just frustrated by my lack of attention to my studies,” Tabitha said, shaking her head. “I like to think that there are things I can learn outside the archives. More real-world kinds of things.”

“Oh?” Ellie smiled slightly. “Let me guess: I’m supposed to be a part of that?”

“You are a part of it, yes. That’s why I was allowed to go with you in the first place. Somebody had to document what you did in Buruketh, after all.”

“I hope you didn’t document everything.”

“Not everything,” Tabitha replied. From the way she said it and the quiet, almost furtive way she approached it, Ellie was left with questions about what Tabitha might be keeping from her.

Maybe that didn’t even matter. At this point, the only thing that mattered was that she try to understand what was happening now.

“Where are we going?” Ellie asked her.

“Show me where you are feeling this pull.”

“It’s that way.” Ellie pointed toward the north.

“So show me.”

They headed through the city and made their way through the winding streets, passing the aftermath of the explosions. Work crews cleared debris while constables maintained order.

“The pattern is what interested me most,” Tabitha said as they navigated around a group of merchants assessing damage to their stalls. “I’m curious if the explosions correspond to any specific points in the city. The archives have extensive records on Busal’s construction. I’ve also been researching references to the Sacred Souls and this ‘Sovereign’ the Custodians keep mentioning.”

“Find anything useful?” Ellie asked.

“Fragments, mostly. References in old texts to powers that existed before the fae, before the Inarak. But everything is fragmented, too old to be of use.”

They passed the collapsed temple of the Sacred Souls, its broken dome a jagged reminder of the past.

“Now what?” Tabitha asked.

“I still don’t feel anything obvious,” Ellie said.

“I don’t need for you to feel anything obvious. I’m just asking what else you might feel.”

“There is a hint of it still drawing me that way,” she went on, pointing again.

They had reached the bridge that separated the two sides of the city. A massive, ancient stone bridge arced over the harbor and was filled with fabricated energies. She had once spent time racing from one side of the city to the other, but nowadays, she didn’t go to the other side of the harbor, as there wasn’t all that much there for her. Most of what she needed was found on her side of the city and, truth be told, tied to what she knew of the palace.

“All right,” Tabitha said. “Let’s keep going.”

“Are you really sure this makes sense?” Ellie asked.

“I don’t know what sort of sense it makes, but you need to have a better idea about where it’s pulling you, right? And until we have a better idea about what it is and where it’s drawing you, I don’t know that we can leave it. Besides, I have a theory.”

“Go on,” Ellie said. “This is actually the older side of the city.”

“But not the oldest.”

“What do you mean?” Ellie asked.

“I don’t think this is the oldest part of Busal City.”

They reached the run-down edge of the city. Buildings here were haphazardly constructed, many leaning against each other for support. The streets narrowed, unpaved and rutted with deep puddles from recent rain. Few people ventured this far out—a handful of laborers hauling goods, children chasing stray animals, and the occasional constable on patrol.

Beyond the last ramshackle buildings, the land opened up to a marshy floodplain stretching toward the Gesilan River. The river was wide and swift-moving, its muddy waters carrying driftwood and debris toward the distant sea. On the far bank, the terrain changed dramatically—flat grasslands giving way to an abrupt, sheer wall of gray-black rock that rose impossibly high, its face scarred by ancient weathering and dotted with sparse vegetation that somehow clung to life in the stone crevices.

The rock face extended for miles in either direction, creating a natural boundary that dwarfed the city’s defensive walls. In places, the stone appeared almost polished, unnaturally smooth, while other sections were jagged and broken.

Ellie stared at the distant cliff, feeling the pulling sensation strengthen as she focused on it. There was something unnatural about that wall of stone, something that called to the burning power within her with increasing urgency.

“So, what?” Ellie asked.

“That,” Tabitha said. “Is what you feel coming from that direction?”

Ellie concentrated. At first, she did so by just staring at the rock. She had rarely come out here, but she couldn’t pick up on the sense very well. It was vague and still drawing on her, but increasingly, she was left with questions as to why it seemed to be pulling on her in the way it did. She closed her eyes and cycled some of the power, and unintentionally allowed that burning sensation to bloom within it as well. As it did, she began to pick up on that feeling of being drawn toward something even more potently.

Not only was it pulling her this way, and toward that rock wall, but it seemed to be…

“Up,” Ellie said.

She looked over to Tabitha, who was nodding. “As I thought,” her friend said.

“Why?”

“Because the oldest part of Busal City is up there. Or supposed to be. I don’t know. I’ve never climbed it, but that’s what all the reports say.”

“There’s a part of the city up there?”

“Ruins. Much like this”—Tabitha motioned to the older part of the city—“is older than where the palace is, there was once something up there. At least, that’s what the maps say.” She pulled out the book she had grabbed from the archives, flipped through pages, and showed Ellie a drawing of this place. “The Inarak built around the rest of it.”

“So what’s up there?”

Tabitha shrugged. “I don’t know. Something older.”

Older.

Because it was older, Ellie couldn’t help but feel as if that was a problem. A danger.

That was where she needed to go.

Chapter

Nineteen

Ellie stood for a while at the edge of the river. She had made it all the way out here, focusing on what she had been picking up on, curious if there would be anything here that she could identify. The idea that there was something older there fit with everything they had seen and with her rising concern about the possibility that whatever was out there, and whatever they needed to understand, was coming from that older section of the city.

The Gesilan River sprawled before them, wide and fierce as it carved through the landscape. Its muddy waters churned and frothed, racing with such force that even the sturdiest swimmer would be swept away instantly. Massive tree trunks and debris tumbled in the current, smashing against rocks with thunderous cracks before being dragged onward. The width alone was daunting—at least fifty yards of violent water separated them from the other side, with no visible crossing point in either direction. The morning sun glinted off the rushing water, creating deceptively beautiful patterns that belied the deadly current beneath.

Tabitha had been sitting cross-legged, making notes. Ellie still wasn’t sure what she was going to need to do, but more and more, she felt as if following what was drawing on her was going to be the key here.

“I don’t suppose any of the archivists have ever been up there?” Ellie asked.

Tabitha looked over, and Ellie realized she was drawing a picture of the river.

“Not any that we have with us currently,” Tabitha replied. “I can tell you that we have some records, but even those are probably dated. Can’t say I know much about it, nor can I say that we would be able to find anything that would be all that useful, not without digging a bit more.” She shrugged. “Although, if you want, I’m willing to go digging.”

“I have to get up there.”

“How do you propose doing that?”

Ellie stared up at the rock face. “I don’t know. There has to be some way to do that.”

“I suppose with the right kind of fabrications, you might be able to do it. The king would obviously provide them for you.”

“Obviously,” Ellie said, shaking her head.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Tabitha said.

“I’m not implying anything of the sort, I’m just saying that…” What was she saying? She had access to fabrications. She had access to the royal fabricators and used them as much as she needed, and when it came down to this, it was quite likely that what she needed was to use all of that to her advantage. Ellie couldn’t help but feel as if what she had to do was get those fabrications. Why not leverage the relationship she had with Dorian? “I wonder how long it would take us to climb.”

Ellie stared again at the gigantic rock face that loomed beyond the river. It rose like a vertical fortress, at least three hundred feet of sheer stone with barely a handhold visible from this distance. The ancient cliff was a mix of glossy black stone that almost seemed polished in places, interspersed with jagged sections where time had fractured the surface. Occasional ledges—most too narrow to provide real rest—interrupted the otherwise smooth ascent. Near the top, the wall curved slightly outward, creating an overhang that would challenge even the most skilled climbers. Sparse vegetation clung desperately to tiny cracks, their roots finding purchase where no human hand could. The shadow of the immense barrier stretched across the river, a dark reminder of the impossible task that climbing it would be without significant help.

“Us?” Tabitha asked.

“Well, I presume you will be coming with me.”

Tabitha looked up, and she was quiet for a long moment. “I’m not sure I like that idea.”

“Like it or not, I’m not going alone.”

“Why don’t you ask Ralen to join you.”

“I probably should.” Especially considering that if climbing the wall would bring her closer to finding out what the Servants were after…

Ellie frowned. She reached the edge of the water and listened to the roar of the river as it raced past. “The Servants. They would’ve been seeking this as well. Assuming they have some way of detecting the same power”—and increasingly, she had to believe they had a way to—“then they would have needed to climb the cliff as well. I wonder how they would have done that.”

“You can go up through the mountains,” Tabitha said. “Or you could sail around, I think. But the fastest way is up.”

Up, yes, but maybe there was another way.

“If this was all part of the city, there has to be some other connection,” Ellie said. “Why don’t we get back and you can research⁠—”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Tabitha said. “It’s not like you can just go through the books and use some sort of magical ability to determine if there is any way to climb the rock.”

“I’m sure some of your archivists would be more than happy to help if you tell them it’s for the Crown.”

Tabitha laughed. “First you hesitated to use the fabrications that you might have access to, and now you want me to leverage the Crown on your behalf to get answers.”

“Well, it would be for the Crown,” Ellie said.

“I’m sure.”

“See what you can find. I’m going to see what I can figure out for us to cross the river, and I’ll talk to Dorian and make some preparations.”

“What kind of preparations?”

“The kind we might need if you can’t find a better way up.” She grinned.

Tabitha tucked her book away, glanced over to the wall, and then back to Ellie. “All right. When are we going to do this?”

“Sooner the better.”

Because Ellie knew she needed to do something. That drawing sensation seemed to be getting more potent. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t like it. It was as if whatever it was that the Servants had done had released something.

Seals. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, or this ongoing power she was feeling. Until she had a better idea about what it was and why she felt it, she didn’t know if there was even going to be any way to help understand what was happening here. More than that, she needed to get rid of that power so that it no longer pulsed against her, and no longer left her with this sense of energy and pain that was building.

They made it back to the city quietly. Every so often, Tabitha would make a note, but she didn’t make conversation with Ellie. Maybe that was for the best because Ellie was not sure what she had to say, and she also felt a rising concern about what she was going to need to do. She didn’t like the idea of climbing the rock wall, but she also didn’t like the idea of leaving it uninvestigated. She needed to get answers.

When they reached the palace compound, Tabitha left her to head back to the archives.

Ellie went into the palace, up to Dorian’s quarters after asking a few servants where he might be found, and then knocked.

Dorian’s private chamber was more austere than most would expect for a king. The spacious room was dominated by a gigantic desk of polished dark wood, its surface covered with maps, correspondence, and several leather-bound journals. Behind it stood a tall window that overlooked the city, framed by heavy curtains of deep blue. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled not with decorative volumes but with well-worn tomes showing evidence of frequent use—their spines cracked, pages marked with slips of parchment. A comfortable but simple sitting area occupied one corner, with two chairs arranged before a small hearth where a fire burned low.

Unlike the formal audience chambers, there were few royal emblems here. Instead, the room revealed Dorian’s practical nature—a working space rather than a showcase of power. The only luxury appeared to be a finely crafted chest near the far wall, its surface inlaid with intricate patterns that seemed to shift in the flickering light. Unlike the rest of the room, this piece radiated subtle fabricated energy that Ellie could feel even from the doorway.

He looked up when she entered. “You look like you’ve come to a decision.”

“I’m not so sure about that, but I have found the source of what’s drawing on me.”

She took a seat across from him and then explained what she and Tabitha had spoken about. While she filled him in, Dorian sat quietly. He had this way of listening, and with Ellie in particular, he had this way about him of making her feel heard. She always appreciated that.

When she was done, he frowned. “I think we have always known that the city was old, but I hadn’t considered the possibility that there were parts of it that we never accessed.”

“If the archivists are correct⁠—”

“You question your friend now?”

“I’m not questioning her, I’m just saying… Well, I suppose I am questioning her, but I know I shouldn’t. We know the city’s old, and we know there are different layers to it. I guess I never thought there might be a layer we couldn’t reach.”

He shrugged. “There are many different places that were probably once accessible, that are no longer. Even through traditional means.”

“What do you mean?” Ellie asked.

“I’m saying that when the city was once as it had been, perhaps the way to the top might not have been up the wall, or up any sort of stairs, or anything quite so mundane. It’s entirely possible that they used something far more interesting.”

“You think they might’ve used the Twilight Gate?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a door between realms, but⁠—”

“But it is only a way to get to the fae realm. It isn’t a way of shrinking distances.”

“That we know of,” Dorian said. “Maybe that’s all it was, but there is a chance that there was more to it, and to how it was used. I can’t say I have the answers, but I can say that we simply don’t know.” He fell silent, then pulled out his notebook from his drawer and made a few notes, reminding Ellie of Tabitha. In a way, Dorian would have been a good archivist. He had an inquisitive mind, and he was the kind of person who was willing to keep digging until he had the answers he wanted. Even if those answers were not what he had wanted at first. “I presume you intend to go up?”

“That’s the plan,” Ellie said.

“Not alone, though.”

“No. Tabitha is going to come with me.”

“And the Arbiter?”

“I imagine that he’s going to go regardless of whether or not I invite him,” Ellie said.

He chuckled. “That’s perhaps for the best.” When Ellie arched a brow, he went on. “It seems to me that the Arbiters, much like the Guild, have their own set of knowledge that would be beneficial for us to have access to. In your case, the relationship you have with him⁠—”

“No relationship,” Ellie said.

“I don’t mean it like that,” Dorian said, but his lips curved slightly in a smile. “Though from the hurried way you said that, it does make me think that perhaps you might have more interest in this man than you want to let on.”

“Like you and Selene?”

“I believe she has her own agenda, but she also recognizes that if the Arbiters are involved, it might be for the best to keep a close eye on them.” He leaned forward. “That’s where you can help.”

“So this is how you negotiate with Rosark, then?”

“No negotiation, and I doubt it would make much of a difference, anyway. This is more about offering information. And gaining an opportunity. You can learn from him. Already you’ve been able to do things you weren’t able to do before you started working with him, correct?”

Ellie sat back, thinking about what she had done and just how much Ralen had helped. She couldn’t help but feel as if Dorian was right.

“I have.”

“I would like for you to continue to develop,” he said. “Grow your skill. It doesn’t matter that it comes from somebody you have just met. Besides, I suspect that whatever you find up there will need someone with knowledge we don’t have here. I would encourage you to bring fabrications, similar to what you brought when you went to Buruketh, but then I’m guessing you know that, too.”

“I do.”

“Would you bring anybody else with you?” Dorian asked.

“If we are just going to scout…”

“That is probably for the best. At least to begin with.”

“Then I don’t want to bring too big of a party. It’s going to be hard enough to get up the wall in the first place, unless we find another way up. I do have Tabitha looking to see if there might be a way that they were able to access the upper part of the city. Some way that would involve the Twilight Gate.”

Dorian nodded. “Useful, but be prepared to climb. And Ellie?”

She waited, and he met her eyes.

“Do come back.”

“Of course I’m going to come back,” she said. “Why would you even say that?”

He was quiet for a moment. “I suppose there is a part of me that knows that eventually you might decide that you have outgrown the palace, and perhaps even Busal itself.”

“This is my home.”

Wasn’t it?

He smiled tightly. “Yes. It is your home.” He took a deep breath. “Here,” Dorian said, withdrawing a marker from his drawer. It was the royal seal, and though Ellie had a replica of it, this one was fabricated and had real power within it. She could feel it immediately. “Use this to get whatever you need.”

“New precautions?”

“Something like that. Be careful, though. Don’t lose that.” He paused. “Selene’s delegation has offered to help monitor our defenses while you’re away. Their fabricators detected patterns we couldn’t.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “You’re trusting them to help?”

“They’re trusting us with their expertise. Perhaps it’s time we did the same.”

Maybe he was right, and maybe her concern about Rosark had been misplaced.

It had certainly distracted her from the real issue at hand.

Now she had to find Ralen, gather fabrications, meet with people she was leaving behind.

She didn’t think she was going to be gone long, at least not as long as she had been when she had gone to Buruketh. That had been a longer journey. This was just climbing the wall.

Well, that was what she told herself.

Still, there was a part of her that realized it had to be more than just climbing the wall. The danger wouldn’t be in the climb itself—the danger would be in what she found out there.

If Servants were there, waiting, would she be able to withstand an attack?

She was going to have to find the right kind of fabrications, make the right kind of preparations, and be ready.

But Ellie knew she couldn’t linger too long. Even in the time she had been here with Dorian, she had felt the building of power and the way the energy had started to swell around her. Whatever was drawing on her continued its growth, and eventually, it would reach a point where she could no longer ignore it.

Or worse. Maybe it would reach a point where whatever it was that she felt was finally released.

And she had no idea what that might be.

Chapter

Twenty

Ellie collapsed in bed.

She had spent much of the night trying to make preparations, gathering as many of her belongings as needed, and thinking about what else she might need to bring. Without knowing what they would find or how long she’d be outside the city, it was difficult to anticipate everything that might be useful.

Dawn broke, and she wandered through the halls of the palace after breakfast, mind filled with thoughts about what additional preparations she needed to make. Thankfully, Renail had supplied most of what she required, leaving a note inside her room detailing the provisions he’d arranged. Even so, she still felt as though she might have overlooked something important.

Strangely, she felt a little excitement at the idea of leaving. This wasn’t her typical response—Ellie had never been one to venture out of the city on her own. But ever since making her way to Buruketh and having a chance to be on her own, something had changed. She felt drawn to discover more about herself and her abilities, particularly the burning power she’d experienced when destroying the relic.

Why couldn’t she control it, though?

If she could get some control over it, then she might be able to understand what that power would be able to do for her. Maybe.

By the time she gathered her pack and supplies from the kitchen, exhaustion had set in. She had expected to see Dorian before departing, but he hadn’t sought her out. That bothered her somewhat, but perhaps it shouldn’t—this was Dorian, after all, and he had his own way of doing things. He’d made his expectations clear the night before. Ellie hadn’t expected to see him again, figuring that the conversation they had in his office would be the last one before she departed, but he had come to her room later in the day.

It was rare for Dorian to do that, but as he stood in the doorway with a pair of Empyrean guards behind him, she could practically feel his uncertainty.

“Go on with it,” she had said.

“There’s nothing to go on with,” he had replied. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t need any additional supplies.”

“Everything is arranged, at least as much as it can be. And this time we don’t have to worry about somebody betraying me.”

“Yes, but that is because you’re putting your trust in this Arbiter.”

“I have no reason not to trust him, and that’s assuming I can even find him. I haven’t been able to yet.” She needed to keep looking, but other than putting word out with the Investigators and some of the constables, there wasn’t much else she could do to find Ralen. She had used her Blade ability, but that had not found him, either.

“I’m going to get answers. I need them.”

“I know you do,” Dorian said.

The way he said it suggested he understood her. Then again, he always seemed to understand her, much more than she felt she often deserved from him.

“It’ll be all right,” she said, mostly to herself, though he smiled tightly.

“We’ve been through this,” he replied. “And you’ve told me this.”

“I know, but I just wanted to remind you that I don’t know how long⁠—”

He stepped forward and squeezed her shoulder—a gesture both comforting and distant. “Do whatever you need to do, take as long as you need, and know that I will be here when you return. We can talk more once you get back. And take this. I know it’s not much, but it’s a fabrication I’ve found useful.”

He took a pin off his lapel, one he’d worn as long as she’d known him, and attached it to her jacket, sighing deeply as he did.

“Thank you, Dorian.”

“Serve well,” he’d said before leaving.

Serve well?

After the gesture of giving her the fabrication, something about the comment didn’t sit right with Ellie, though it was exactly the kind of thing Dorian would say. She was conflicted, though. What did it mean for her to serve, and how was she to keep serving? By questioning? Leaving? Or was it something else?

Now she waited for Tabitha, who soon came striding through the palace grounds with a heavy pack slung over her shoulder and a book in hand. She had bright, vibrant eyes and wore a strange charm around her neck. Ellie recognized it as a fabrication, wondering what purpose it served.

“You know that we’re going to have to climb,” Ellie reminded her, eyeing the pack.

“I know,” Tabitha replied. “Look at what you’ve got.”

“I’ve got a pack that is easily secured to me, and I don’t have to worry about losing control over it, primarily because there are fabrications within it that should make it a little bit lighter.”

“And you trust that you can keep those fabrications active?” Tabitha grinned at her. “You know, sometimes I think you forget what your abilities can do.”

“I can control it,” Ellie said.

“You had better be able to. I’ve got some defenses in mine, and I don’t want you to destroy them.”

They headed out of the palace grounds and worked their way through the city. It was early, and Ellie didn’t expect many people to be out, but she was surprised when she saw a familiar flash of fabric. They passed some people from Rosark walking through the street, their burgundy tunics and embroidered cloaks unmistakable. Ellie watched them with narrowed eyes, still uncertain about their presence in the city, though it seemed less important now with her focus on the ancient power calling to her.

There had to be something more to their visit, and even though she kept telling herself it was the kind of thing that could wait, she wasn’t entirely sure it could. More than that was the fact that Dorian and Selene’s relationship made it so that she was less than comfortable about what might happen in her absence. She wanted to send a request to Lijanna to ask her to keep track of the delegation in her absence, but Ellie had not had the opportunity to visit with her before leaving.

Maybe that was a mistake. Lijanna would probably be upset that she didn’t take the time to visit, but how many distractions could she give herself?

Stopping at the Investigator station was enough.

Before they could enter the building, a familiar figure appeared, leaning against the wall as if he’d been waiting for them. Ralen straightened as they approached, his silver-blue eyes taking in their packs and equipment.

He seemed as if he had already come to terms with what was going on, and she suspected that he had also been doing his own research about what had happened since the attack. The fact that he was coming to her like this, seemingly unconcerned, suggested that he had another plan in mind. “You can come with us or not—it’s your choice.”

“Always cryptic, this one,” Tabitha muttered.

“I could join you,” Ralen said, studying Ellie with that unnerving intensity. “You’ve felt it growing stronger, haven’t you? Whatever power was released—it’s pulling on you more forcefully now.”

Ellie tensed. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been tracking the shifting patterns since the explosions. But unlike you, I can’t feel where it’s centered.” He nodded toward the north. “You’re going to find the source.”

“I’ve been feeling it building,” Ellie agreed. “I think I have a better idea now about where it’s coming from. Why they targeted the city.”

He seemed to consider. “Then perhaps I need to go with you.”

“You aren’t even going to question me on why? You’re just going to come with us?” Ellie asked.

“Did you expect me to refuse?” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “You’ll need my help, especially if the Servants have already found a way up.”

“Why help us? Me?” She still wasn’t entirely sure why he had decided to stay. The Custodians? They were in many places, as far as she was able to tell. There had to be a different reason.

“A feeling,” he said.

“A feeling. Not an order? The Arbiters don’t want you to follow me?”

Ellie didn’t know how that worked or if there was anything more to his role with the Arbiters that she would need to understand.

“Not an order,” he said. “If you’d rather I not help…”

“No,” she said, a little more quickly than she meant to. “I appreciate your willingness. It’s just that I wanted to make sure that you⁠—”

“Won’t betray you?”

She shrugged. “I might have some experience with that.”

“I am here to help stop what the Servants intend, and to help you as much as I can. There are things I know that will be useful.”

Ellie didn’t argue with that. If the Servants were involved, she wasn’t sure she would be able to handle them on her own, not if there were many of them. Even with his help, she wasn’t certain they were going to have enough strength to withstand an attack. But what he knew would only be useful if he shared it, and so far, Ralen hadn’t been the best at sharing. “I need to say goodbye to Jos first.”

Inside the station, they found Jos at his desk, surrounded by reports about the explosions. He looked up when they entered, his weathered face showing both relief and concern when he saw Ellie.

He set down his pen. “I don’t like the early-morning visit. Nothing good happens for you in the mornings.”

“I’m not staying,” Ellie said, dropping into the chair across from him. “I’ve come to say goodbye.”

Jos’s expression darkened. “Another mission? So soon?”

“Not exactly a mission. Something I need to do.” She explained briefly about the cliff face, the drawing sensation, and her suspicion that whatever the Servants had released was connected to something ancient beyond the river.

Jos sighed heavily. “Always rushing toward danger, aren’t you? Just like Zaren.”

“Would that be so bad?” Being compared to Zaren was a compliment, and Jos knew it.

“You need supplies? I can have Byron⁠—”

“We’re set,” Ellie interrupted. “I just wanted to let you know where I’m going. In case…”

She didn’t finish the thought, but Jos nodded in understanding.

“Byron!” he called.

A moment later, Byron appeared in the doorway. His face brightened when he saw Ellie. “An early morning for you. And you’ve brought an archivist along. I’m not sure this is the kind of visit I want to see.”

“She’s leaving again,” Jos informed him. “Going to climb the black cliff beyond the Gesilan.”

Byron’s face drained of color. “Climb… the cliff?”

“Want to join us?” Tabitha asked with a smile.

He swallowed hard. “Heights aren’t really my…”

Ellie chuckled. “We are keeping this group small. Intentionally. It’s mostly for scouting.” Mostly, she told herself, but she knew there was the possibility that it might become something else. “We should be fine with just the three of us.”

“Three?” Jos asked, his gaze falling on Ralen, who stood silently by the door.

“Ralen is coming with us,” Ellie said. She could see the questions forming in Jos’s mind but was grateful when he didn’t voice them.

Instead, he rose and pulled Ellie into a brief, gruff hug. “Be careful up there. Whatever you find… just come back, all right?”

Why should it surprise her that Jos would make a comment that was very similar to Dorian’s? Both men cared about her in their own manner. In some ways, both men were also a little too protective of her.

“I will,” she promised.

“And you,” Jos said, fixing Ralen with a hard stare. “You bring her back safely or you will answer to me, understand?”

Ralen inclined his head respectfully. “I understand perfectly.”

As they left the station and made their way through the city, Tabitha filled the silence with historical facts.

“I’ve been looking into more information about the city. About the settlement that was up on the cliff face. There’s no documentation of it. The earliest records that we have are of the old city,” she said as they reached the far side of the harbor. “Even those records are pretty sparse. I have asked the archivists to look into it while we are gone, but that’s not going to help much now. The records of the main part of Busal City all begin with discussion of the Inarak presence, and as you know, most of that is still pretty old as it is.”

“I know,” Ellie said, breathing out slowly. “But whatever is drawing on me, it’s up there.” She was starting to have to actively resist it. It was getting to be too much, in some ways.

“The burning energy—is it responding to whatever’s drawing you?” Ralen asked, watching her closely.

“I think so,” she admitted. But again, she didn’t have control with it. That was the challenge. “It feels like it’s trying to reach out, to connect with something.” She looked at him. “You said the Arbiters track ancient powers. Have you encountered anything like this before?”

“Not exactly like this,” Ralen said carefully. “Mostly it has been dealing with the Servants and trying to keep them from drawing on the fae. This new fascination with the Sacred Souls, the Sovereign, is very different. Though we try to contain them, I have been concerned that we will not be able to do enough to prevent them from succeeding.”

They reached the riverbank by midday. Ellie surveyed the Gesilan and considered the fabrications she’d brought. She might be able to create some kind of floating platform, but controlling it in the strong current would be nearly impossible.

“I had hoped to find a sailor willing to ferry us across,” she said, “but no one would take the job.”

She’d asked around and had even contemplated having Dorian push to get help, but she knew that would only complicate things. Besides, there had to be a way across. She just had to find it.

“It’s unnecessary,” Ralen said as they walked downstream.

“It’s very necessary,” Ellie retorted. “I’m not fording that river.”

“It’s unnecessary,” he repeated, gesturing for them to follow.

Around a bend in the river, Ellie saw what he meant. Two thick ropes had been strung across the water, anchored to enormous trees on either bank. A third rope hung below them at foot level. A large pack rested nearby, tucked against a tree trunk.

“You did this?” Ellie asked, though the answer was obvious.

Ralen nodded.

“Well, it seems like you’ve been busy,” she said.

“Yes,” he replied. “And you were not.”

She arched a brow at him. “You know that I have obligations in the palace, and I had to talk to the king,” she went on, emphasizing the last word, “so that he knew what I was doing and where I was going.”

“You need permission before departing?”

“I do,” Ellie said. “Because unlike you, I’m accountable to someone.”

“You think I’m not?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “You seem to do whatever you want.”

“Because those I’m accountable to trust that I do what’s necessary.” He gestured to the ropes. “Now, are you going to cross, or are you going to stay here and talk?”

Tabitha laughed. “I’m starting to like him.”

Ellie studied the rope bridge with skepticism. “Is it safe?”

“Safe enough,” Ralen said, shouldering his pack. “The handrails are secured with fabrications to strengthen them. They’ll hold.”

“Have you tested it?”

He shrugged. “We’ll see. If you are ready, I’m going to demonstrate the technique.”

“I know how to cross a bridge,” Ellie said. If he was going to be like this, then he could stay behind.

“Have you ever crossed a fabricated rope bridge?” Ralen asked. “One that is swaying above a rapid river? Because if you have, maybe you should take the lead.”

She said nothing. He nodded and stepped out onto the rope, moving carefully. He held tightly to the handrails and slipped his feet forward, one after another, with the ropes barely swaying as he went.

“You know, I kind of like the fact that he’s giving you a hard time,” Tabitha said.

“If you like it so much, then you can go next,” Ellie muttered.

“I probably should, mostly because if something happens, you’ll be the one to fall into the river.”

Ellie stuck her tongue out at Tabitha, but she’d already turned ahead, shifted her pack, and started out onto the rope, moving with the same technique Ralen used. Ellie shouldn’t be surprised, but Tabitha had a gracefulness to her movements.

She took a deep breath and turned to look back at Busal City. In the distance, she could feel the energy within it. The ancient Inarak power. She could feel that there was something about it that had changed, although much of what had changed was different, subtle.

Finally, she turned her attention back to the task.

Byron might not like heights, but Ellie wasn’t sure she liked this.

And this was the easy part, she told herself. Because from here, it was going to get difficult. Probably incredibly so.

Starting across, Ellie gazed up at the sheer black cliff that loomed beyond the opposite bank. From this vantage point, it seemed even more imposing—an impossible wall of stone stretching hundreds of feet upward, its face gleaming with an unnatural smoothness in places.

“Something’s up there,” she murmured to herself. “Something old.”

Whatever it was, it was waiting for her.

Chapter

Twenty-One

Crossing the river proved to be difficult. The ropes were stretched across the churning water, and while Ellie could feel the support in the rope beneath her feet and the ones she gripped with her hands, the steady sway made her stomach lurch with each step.

She moved slowly, carefully, one foot after another, dragging herself across inch by inch. The technique was demanding in a way she hadn’t anticipated. If she hadn’t known the ropes were fabricated—something she could easily feel rippling through them—she would have questioned whether they could support her weight. Ellie could swim, but she didn’t want to end up in the river, especially not with it rushing at such a speed that it would likely carry her out to sea before she could fight her way to shore.

As she moved, she had to make an effort to hold her Blade ability in check. She didn’t want to release anything, partly because she was concerned about what it might do to the ropes—and partly because she knew she needed a measure of control here.

The wind whipped at her, tugging at her clothes and pack, making the crossing even more treacherous. Each time she looked down at the swirling brown water beneath her, she felt a moment of vertigo that threatened her balance. The ropes cut into her palms, and her arms ached from the tension of holding herself steady.

She had made it about halfway when she felt a pulse of energy.

At first, Ellie wasn’t sure what it was. She glanced at Ralen, taking in the way he moved so easily across the makeshift bridge, but it didn’t seem to be coming from him. She was left wondering how he’d managed this crossing in the first place. Instead, the energy emanated from somewhere beyond the other side of the river, up the rock face and in the distance. She had been so focused on her hands and feet that she hadn’t been paying attention to her surroundings.

She also realized she’d unconsciously been cycling her ability the way Ralen had taught her. Without meaning to, her power had been flowing through her in steady pulses, reaching outward as she concentrated on maintaining her balance. The rhythm had become almost natural to her now—a way to center herself when her focus narrowed to a single task.

As she got distracted by what she’d felt, her foot slipped.

She dangled, gripping the two guide ropes, and then her other foot lost its purchase as well.

Ralen’s urgent “Ellie!” held something more than professional concern. When she looked up, he visibly relaxed. “You have to pull yourself up.”

Had he made it all the way across already?

She didn’t dare be distracted by him. She needed to focus, to pull herself back up, but even as she attempted to do so, she couldn’t get herself back and balanced on the ropes.

As she dragged herself forward, Ellie didn’t know whether to be grateful for Ralen’s steadiness or annoyed by his apparent lack of concern. His confidence was frustrating… and oddly attractive. Her arms strained as her boots kicked at the water below. She hurriedly tried to pull herself up, but the weight of her body and pack were too much.

She couldn’t let the pack go. It contained supplies they would need to climb the rock, and though she believed Ralen had brought his own equipment—and Tabitha as well—she didn’t want to rely on others more than necessary.

“Let me come out and help you,” Ralen called.

Help? How was he going to get around Tabitha to help?

She shook her head, not daring to look up at him. “I’ve got this.”

As she pulled, something changed. The ropes were shifting beneath her hands, vibrating with an increasing intensity.

“You have to stop,” Ralen said. Now there was a sharp edge to his voice.

“What am I doing?”

“You’re releasing your ability. Suppress it.”

Suppress it. The command was familiar, yet foreign at the same time. Since meeting Ralen, she’d been expanding her awareness, cycling her power outward rather than containing it. Now she realized her energy was flowing into the fabricated ropes, disrupting the careful balance of power woven into them.

“I’m trying,” she said through gritted teeth.

She paused her efforts to pull herself up, focusing instead on gathering her power back within herself. This was something Zaren had taught her—how to mask her presence from others with similar abilities. She’d practiced it extensively while training, had even demonstrated it to the students at the school, but now she needed to do it to prevent the ropes from losing their integrity.

One of the ropes trembled violently under her grip.

It wasn’t just about her now.

If she made a mistake here, if she let the power go, Tabitha and Ralen would fall, too.

Maybe not him. He might have already reached the far shore.

She didn’t need Ralen’s urgent warning to understand the danger. Ellie concentrated, tamping down her power, squeezing and constricting it deep inside herself. As her energy receded, the ropes stabilized, and she felt something odd—they seemed to be pulling her upward.

With a surge of strength, she got her feet out of the water, managed to hook one boot onto the lower rope, and pushed herself upward. She regained her balance. Holding briefly, she focused, suppressing the power she’d unintentionally drawn until she was convinced she had control over it. Only then did she hurry the rest of the way across the river, finally leaping the last few feet to land on the far shore.

She curled up on the ground, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

When she sat up, Tabitha was kneeling next to her.

“It’s not you,” her friend said. “Well, maybe it is you. He told me he should have realized that he needed to warn you about suppressing your ability as you crossed. Apparently, anxiety sometimes causes us to lose control.”

“I haven’t lost control like that before,” Ellie said. “At least, I didn’t realize I had.”

Tabitha patted her shoulder. “The ropes are still fine, but I hope we don’t have to do that again.”

“That was the easy part,” she muttered, knowing that the river crossing was but one part of what they had to do. After making it here, now they would have to climb.

I’m not sure I’m ready for that.

Ellie took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She focused on her inner energy again, trying to maintain the suppression she’d achieved moments before. By the time she felt steady again, Ralen was near the wall, watching her.

“That was more stressful than it needed to be,” he said, his silver-blue eyes studying her with that unnerving intensity she’d come to expect. “I should have warned you about what might happen, and how your ability could influence such a crossing. These are heavily fabricated lines, and they’re sensitive to people like us. I assumed you would know that, or at least be able to detect it and handle yourself appropriately. That was my mistake.”

Ellie straightened and took another deep breath. “No, that was my mistake. It won’t happen again.”

“With what we’re doing, when something is fabricated, you’re going to have to either choose to suppress your ability or pull your power away.”

Pull away—but she hadn’t been. She had been cycling it outward as he’d taught her, though unintentionally. It was only when she actively suppressed it that she regained control.

“I’ll do better next time,” she said, fighting to keep the defensive edge from her voice.

He nodded and pointed to the cliff that now loomed before them. “The next challenge is just as dangerous.”

Ellie sighed. There was no point in arguing with him, especially when he was right.

“Did you make preparations there as well?” Tabitha asked, her tone light despite the tension.

“Yes,” he replied simply.

Ellie’s eyes widened. “You did? Why? When?”

“Because you needed a day. I figured I might as well make the most of the time and prepare so we could climb efficiently.”

Picking her way over to the massive wall, she looked up at it and realized what he meant. Up close, the wall was even more imposing and impressive, made all the more so by the metal stakes driven into the stone at regular intervals, creating a path upward.

“How long did this take you?” Ellie asked, unable to hide the surprise and hint of awe in her voice.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ralen said. “I’ve climbed worse.”

Tabitha snorted. “And here I thought we’d find some sort of ancient staircase in the rock.”

“Or a gate,” Ellie mumbled.

Ralen looked over. “A gate?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe those who built the old city used Twilight Gates to travel through it.”

He regarded her as if seeing something unusual about her.

Ellie ignored it and turned to the wall. As she examined the cliff face more closely, she felt something unusual—a trace of energy that felt strangely familiar. She cycled her power in the way he’d taught her, and the sensation became stronger. At first, it was faint, but the more she began to push on the power she possessed—this time even mingling a little of that burning sensation into it—the more certain she was of what she detected.

“Someone’s been here,” she murmured. “Recently.”

Ralen turned sharply. “The Servants?”

“No.” Ellie shook her head, studying the subtle energy signature. “It’s not them.” She cycled power again and then she understood why it felt familiar. “It’s… Aliason. I can feel it. She was here.”

“The Guild woman?” Tabitha asked, concern crossing her face.

“Yes.” Ellie found Ralen watching her, likely because he was worried about her connections to the Guild. “I saw her again. She was outside the city and warned me about dangers. About powers awakening. She must have been investigating, too.”

“Or interfering,” Ralen grumbled. “Guild involvement would make this difficult.”

“We don’t know that.”

As she thought about it, however, she wasn’t sure that was true. She also wasn’t sure what Aliason would be after—or why she would have come through here.

Or how.

Had she climbed up Ralen’s spikes? Ellie imagined that he would have known, if so. That meant it was more likely that Aliason had simply climbed the cliff.

More reasons for her to question the peculiar woman.

“Are we ready?” Ralen asked, checking the ropes and hooks attached to his pack. His hand brushed hers as he gave her the climbing equipment. Neither of them pulled away immediately. “Ready?” His fingers lingered a second longer.

“Ready,” she answered, matching his steady gaze.

“I’ll take the lead to secure the lines, and you two will follow. I would suggest Ellie comes last.”

“Why? So if I ruin the lines, you don’t fall?” She smiled a bit, though she felt like it was his real concern.

“No,” Ralen said. “So your friend doesn’t.”

Tabitha’s eyes widened, and she glanced at Ellie before offering a slight shrug. “I’m going to agree with him on this. I don’t particularly want to come tumbling off the rock, so as long as you don’t mind…”

Ellie snorted, but nodded her agreement.

Ralen’s preparations proved far more comprehensive than anything Ellie had brought. She had rope, but it wasn’t fabricated, nor was it as long as his. He distributed metal clips and showed how to use them to create a safety system.

“Loop it around yourself,” he instructed, demonstrating with practiced movements that Ellie couldn’t help but admire. “So if you slip, it will catch you. You’ll have a short fall, but as long as we’re all properly secured, it shouldn’t be a problem. I’m going to climb faster than both of you, so just maintain a steady pace.”

Ralen started up the rock face. As he’d promised, he climbed rapidly up the sheer surface, practically leaping from one stake to the next until he reached a point about fifty feet up. There, he secured the rope and waited.

“All right,” Tabitha murmured, eyeing the climb ahead. “I’m thinking I might try getting to know our Arbiter friend better tonight.”

“Maybe not tonight,” Ellie replied, surprised by the unexpected pang of jealousy she felt at the suggestion.

“Oh? Changed your mind?” Tabitha asked, smiling.

“No, I just think we have quite a bit going on, and you don’t need to complicate things.”

“What makes you think it would complicate anything? I think it might make the journey more enjoyable.”

Tabitha grinned before securing her rope and beginning her ascent.

Ellie followed about ten feet behind Tabitha, giving her friend space while staying close enough to help if needed. Once she was several dozen feet off the ground, the height began to affect her. The view of Busal City in the distance was breathtaking, but the knowledge of how far she could fall was daunting.

Ralen continued to climb ahead of them, securing additional hooks and waiting periodically to ensure they were managing. By the time they reached each hook he’d placed, he had already moved on to the next section. Ellie found herself watching the fluid economy of his movements, the controlled strength in his arms and shoulders, more often than she should have. It was a welcome distraction from the height, though, keeping her from thinking about how she might fall if she were to slip.

They climbed for the better part of the morning. Ellie’s arms and legs grew increasingly fatigued, but the ascent was more like climbing very steep stairs than scaling a sheer cliff, thanks to Ralen’s preparation. The more she thought about it, the more impressed she became with his abilities. His experience with the Arbiters clearly provided skills beyond what she’d learned from Zaren or developed in her service to Dorian. Was this just one of the many things she could learn if she joined Ralen’s cause?

And here she had thought it would be only about her power.

That would be useful, but this had some uses as well. More practical, in some ways.

“Not much further,” Ralen called down from above.

“Thankfully,” Tabitha panted, glancing down at Ellie. Her face was slick with sweat, and at one point her foot slipped, though she maintained her grip. Ellie continued to cycle her power cautiously, careful to suppress it enough to avoid disrupting any fabrications in their climbing equipment.

As they ascended, Ellie detected more traces of Aliason’s passing through. The signature was faint but unmistakable, leading upward along the path they followed. Whatever had drawn Ellie here had clearly attracted Aliason as well.

She was left with a curiosity about how Aliason had managed the climb. Without Ralen’s preparations, Ellie wouldn’t have been able to do it. Then again, Aliason was with the Guild. She would have similar training to the Arbiters, Ellie suspected.

They reached a flat expanse of rock in the middle of the afternoon. Ralen was waiting for them, sitting on the edge with his legs dangling over the side, a satisfied smile on his face. He didn’t even look tired. The sunlight caught his profile, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, and Ellie found herself staring a moment too long before looking away.

Tabitha stepped backed from the edge, wiping sweat from her face and breathing deeply. When Ellie joined her, Tabitha shook her head.

“I don’t know that I would have agreed to this had I fully understood what it would be like,” she said between breaths. “I mean, I knew we were climbing, but this… And the worst part is that we’ll have to go back down when we return.”

“Getting down is easy,” Ralen said.

“Oh?” Ellie asked skeptically.

“Well, for you two. You can just jump.”

She blinked. “We can just jump?”

He nodded. “I have it hooked so you can rappel down. I’ll have to climb down and remove the hooks, unless we want to leave the rope here, though I assume your king would be disappointed if we left such an easy access route. I might even need to take out these spikes, though I wouldn’t be opposed to leaving them behind.”

“I doubt Dorian would care if you leave the spikes in place,” Ellie said.

“Perhaps not,” Ralen replied. “These are fabricated spikes, though I don’t know if any of that fabrication remains. That’s why they were easier to drive into the stone. Once they’re in place, the fabrication becomes less necessary. They just become metal, so perhaps they won’t come out so easily.” He shrugged and looked toward the distance. “Once you two have rested, we should continue. We have more ground to cover before we make camp.”

Ellie had never been here before, so she turned to survey their surroundings. The plateau stretched far into the distance before the mountain began rising again. Far-off peaks were capped with snow, and the air up here was cooler than it had been below. As a breeze gusted across the exposed rock, she wondered if she had brought inadequate supplies—she hadn’t expected this climate.

There was a different sort of energy here, something unique and powerful. The drawing sensation that had been pulling at her was stronger now, and she could feel something ancient pulsing through the stone beneath her feet. Aliason’s energy signature continued forward, following the same pull that Ellie felt.

“How long can we rest?” Tabitha asked, still catching her breath.

“He didn’t really say,” Ellie replied, “but I have a feeling he’s going to push us.”

“No more climbing or crossing rivers, though?” Tabitha began to rise, her legs still trembling from exertion. “I hope.”

“Not that I can tell.”

“What can you tell?”

“There’s power here,” Ellie said, her voice low. “It’s up ahead, drawing us forward. Aliason came this way, too. Recently.”

“What kind of power?”

“I don’t know,” Ellie admitted, and that uncertainty troubled her.

She was accustomed to recognizing the powers around her—mostly fabrications, with occasional Inarak energy and sometimes more unique signatures. But this was different—distinct and unfamiliar. Perhaps changing her technique for accessing power had altered her perception, allowing her to detect energies she’d previously been unaware of. Or maybe this was truly something new.

Something occurred to her then. They had climbed up here looking for evidence of the city.

So where was it?

Chapter

Twenty-Two

The sun sank toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the plateau. They had been walking for about an hour since reaching the top of the cliff, and Ellie’s legs ached from the climb, though she had to ignore that. This was the reason they’d left the city, looking for answers.

But she had hoped they would find them more easily.

Still, the crossing and the climb had been easier than she had anticipated, so perhaps she shouldn’t be too disappointed. She had figured it would take a few days to make the climb, even gathering her own fabrications to do so, though Ralen’s preparations made it so that they weren’t necessary.

She’d considered leaving the supplies behind at the cliff edge but decided against it. She had no idea what she might need, and the fabrications could be used for different purposes than the ones she had initially intended.

Despite her exhaustion, a restless energy coursed through her. Maybe it was the excitement of getting out of the city, but maybe it her eagerness to understand what the Servants were after and whether that had anything to do with the weird burning power she still felt.

“We should be seeing something by now,” Ellie said, studying the barren landscape. The plateau stretched before them—rocky and sparse, with occasional patches of scrubby grass clinging to life in the thin soil. No trees, no structures, no obvious signs of the ancient city the archives had mentioned. She’d seen the rock wall before but had never even considered what the city might look like.

“Maybe the records were wrong,” Tabitha replied, adjusting her pack. “Perhaps there never was a settlement up here.”

Ralen moved with quiet purpose several paces ahead, his eyes constantly scanning the terrain. He paused at a slight rise, motioning for them to join him.

“Look there.” He pointed toward a pattern in the rock that seemed too regular to be natural.

Ellie joined him at the rise, squinting against the fading light. What had initially appeared to be random outcroppings revealed themselves as the weathered remains of stone foundations—squares and rectangles pressed into the earth like shadows of structures long vanished. She could feel something about this place, but more than that, she was aware that it seemed to be drawing on her, and it was that draw that she thought was significant. It didn’t seem to be the source of what she had been feeling, but it did seem to be connected to it in some fashion.

“Is that it?” she asked. “Or what’s left of it.”

Somehow, Ellie had expected that there would’ve been more here. Maybe that was her own mistake, believing there was going to be something else here, but this was it?

She tried not to feel such disappointment. Anything they were looking for would have been ancient. Older than the old section of Busal City, and that was run-down. Maintained by those who lived there, yes, but weathered by time.

Still, the part of the city with the palace—with the Inarak structures—had survived, leaving more of it intact. Ellie supposed that she expected this place to have looked like that.

“Did you think there was going to be more?” Tabitha asked.

“I thought there might be,” Ellie admitted.

Tabitha was already digging in her pack, extracting a bound journal. Ellie watched with amazement as she produced not just one book but three, along with several rolled maps.

“How did you manage to carry all that up the cliff?” Ellie asked.

Tabitha snorted, turning her attention back to the book. “The same way you carried your blades. Priorities.” She spread one of the maps across a flat stone. “Besides, I figured we’d need more than just physical strength to understand what we find up here.”

Ralen kept his distance, scanning the perimeter while they examined Tabitha’s materials. The tension in his shoulders told Ellie he was alert for danger, though she had picked up on nothing beyond the strange pulling sensation. Even that had become fainter the longer they were here.

“There,” Tabitha said, pointing to a faded sketch on one of her maps. “The archives had this—it’s a rough layout of what was supposed to be up here. Compiled from fragments of Inarak records that referenced an older settlement.”

“And here I didn’t think you had much of this.”

“I thought there was going to be more here, too,” Tabitha said. “It shouldn’t be this small. The records suggest that the entire city was significant.”

“The real issue is whether this was intentionally destroyed,” Ralen said.

“Why would it have been destroyed?” Ellie looked over to him. He had been making his way around the plateau, and it occurred to her that the way he’d been moving had been designed to detect whether there was anything here that he could identify. Perhaps he hoped he could feel the source of the power in some way, or perhaps he was testing the ruins. She didn’t have any way of doing so herself, but she was left questioning if there should be something more here.

“Depending on what they would have wanted to hide,” he said.

“Hide?”

He looked toward the cliff—toward Busal City. “We know that this place was old. Older than the Inarak and the connection they had to the fae. That suggests there is something ancient, powerful here. Or there was, and it was removed.”

Tabitha watched him for a moment before turning her attention back to the book. “It’s unfortunate. Do you think there is a relic here like there was in Buruketh?”

“I think it’s possible, but if so, I doubt we will easily find it,” Ralen said.

Ellie studied the sketch, then looked up at the ruins spread before them. “Let’s see if we can match this to what’s actually here.”

They moved through the ruins. The foundations were more extensive than they’d initially appeared, stretching across the plateau in a pattern that roughly matched Tabitha’s sketch. Many of the stones bore faint markings—spiraling symbols that seemed to shift when viewed from different angles, similar to some Ellie had seen in the palace’s oldest sections, but more primitive, more raw.

The burning sensation within Ellie grew stronger as they approached what would have been the center of the settlement. She cycled her Blade ability, using the technique Ralen had taught her, and felt something respond—a subtle vibration in the air.

She found herself moving around the ruins, testing what she could detect. Mostly there was the undercurrent of energy that lingered, giving her a sense of something like the Blade power, or at least her connection to that. Occasionally, she would pick up something else, more of that subtle vibration that she had started to feel, and through that, she began to think the answer was perhaps tied to that burning sensation.

Ellie had no way of controlling it. She didn’t even know what it was, just that it was some other kind of power. The energy here also seemed to react to her. Or perhaps it was the other way around—she reacted to the power that was here.

What did it mean for her to have this power? She would need to understand it at some point, though she wasn’t sure what that might entail. As much as it would pain her, she might have to go to her father to see if he knew anything about that power, as he might understand it in ways others did not.

“There’s power here,” she said quietly. “Old power, but it feels muted somehow. Like it’s sleeping. I don’t suppose the Arbiters have records of anything like this?”

Ralen looked over to her, his silver-blue eyes catching the last rays of sunlight. “We have some records of ancient settlements, but that’s not really what we have concerned ourselves with. Most places like this were abandoned or destroyed long ago, and are unlikely to have any real significance.”

“Except where the Servants decide that they do,” Ellie said.

He was quiet for a moment. “There are other places where the Servants have gradually become more interested. I suppose that is a problem.”

“You suppose? It seems to me that the Arbiters need to be concerning themselves with what the Servants are chasing. Because they are chasing something. Not just here, but in other places.”

“Yes.” He sounded irritated, but not with her. Maybe with whoever led the Arbiters, those who directed him. It was a question she didn’t have an answer to, but perhaps that wasn’t the kind of question she could ask, anyway.

There was a central depression not far from her, where the ground seemed as if it gradually sloped inward. She moved over toward it, focusing on what she could feel as she cycled her Blade ability, but also allowing some of that burning sensation to creep through her. If nothing else, Ellie wondered if she could use that in some fashion.

As she approached the central depression, the pulling sensation intensified dramatically. It tugged at something deep within her, calling to the burning power that had awakened in Buruketh. She stopped at the edge, unwilling to step into the circle without understanding more.

“I’m not sure that this is what’s been calling to me,” she said, gesturing around her. “There’s still something here. I’m not sure what it is, but I can feel it.”

Tabitha crouched nearby, flipping through her books. “I just have scraps of what might have been. Nothing clear. It would be so much better if we’d had a way to map out what might’ve been here. Maybe there was some sort of an altar here. A temple.” She shrugged. “Or maybe there was nothing.” She stood, dusting her hands off. “We don’t even know if this was significant.”

“It’s significant,” Ralen said, sounding far more confident than he had before. “I can feel it. I don’t know why, and I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it. And if the Servants have come this way, they believe it as well. There must be something about the Sacred Souls and the Sovereign that have drawn them here.”

“But they aren’t here,” Ellie said. “We haven’t seen any sign of them, and if this place was so important, I would’ve expected there to have been more left behind. I would’ve expected to feel the power more strongly. It’s here, but it’s also faint.” That faintness was what bothered her most. When she had been down in the city, she had felt the power more directly. Why would it feel softer up here? How strange.

Tabitha looked up from her books. “Maybe that’s precisely the point. Whatever was here needed to be hidden—sealed away.”

Ellie stepped closer to the edge of the depression, careful not to cross into the circle of marker stones. As she did, the burning sensation flared painfully, like something reaching through her. She quickly stepped back.

“Ellie?” Tabitha’s voice was sharp with concern.

“I’m fine,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. “It’s just⁠—”

A sharp crack echoed across the ruins, like stone breaking under pressure. Ellie tensed, then turned toward the sound. Two figures stood at the outskirts, silhouetted against the darkening sky. Even in the fading light, she recognized the distinctive robes of the Servants of Ascendance. One held what appeared to be a fabricated staff that glowed with an eerie blue light.

“Stay behind me,” Ralen commanded, positioning himself in front of Ellie and Tabitha protectively.

“We fight better together,” Ellie countered, and she moved to his side instead.

He smiled—the first genuine smile she’d seen. “Better together,” he agreed.

“How did they get up here?” Tabitha whispered, scrambling to gather her books.

Ralen drew his sword in one fluid motion. “The same way we did, I imagine.”

Ellie wasn’t certain that they would’ve been able to make it up the same way. More than that, she was left wondering why it was just the two of them. If this was a place that was significant to the Servants, then shouldn’t there be more?

It didn’t fit, it didn’t make sense, and she couldn’t help but feel as if Jerath would be here if this was significant.

But she didn’t have time to process. The Servants moved quickly, circling to approach from different directions. The one with the staff raised it in the air, and Ellie immediately reacted, sending out a pulse of her Blade ability. Ralen did the same thing, and the combined effort slammed into whatever it was that the Servant intended to do with his power.

Ellie was not sure what he was trying to do or what kind of power he might unleash, but she was concerned. Not for herself, not for Ralen, but for Tabitha. Yet even as she focused, she was aware that her friend seemed to be setting up fabrications.

“Tabitha, get to cover!” Ellie called, never taking her eyes off her opponent.

She had to be careful, as she knew that the Servants were skilled fighters. The only advantage she had was that she could cycle her Blade ability outward, and in doing so, she could create something of a buffer. She darted to the left, driving out with one of her blades. The Servant caught her thrust with a swipe of a long rod and deflected, pushing upward.

Power surged from the rod, something that began to expand out from it. Ellie quickly pushed against it, drawing on her Blade ability, and cycled power outward in an explosion. It involved drawing quite a bit of power from herself, more so than what she wanted to have to do, primarily because there was a possibility that she would drain too much of herself—and too quickly—in the process.

The Servant took a step back.

Behind her, Ellie could feel the power of fabrications. Obviously, Tabitha had placed a series of protections, but Ellie was worried about the possibility that her Blade ability might accidentally disrupt whatever fabrications and protections Tabitha had used.

The Servant darted forward. It seemed as if darkness slithered out, and she remembered what she’d seen of the Servants fighting, the way that Jerath was able to wield the shadows. She also recalled what Ralen had said about how they were able to summon that power. They were Mimics who could draw upon magic that they had seen somewhere.

This one whipped out the darkness, and she dodged one of the strikes, then another one came toward her shoulder. It neared the flesh, and she had to hurriedly jump back and push outward with her Blade ability to block it. Cold began to ripple through her, and she felt some part of what she was doing crackling.

It wasn’t going to be enough.

Deep inside of her, she could feel the burning of that other power. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she knew that it helped. Plus, it had helped her defeat Jerath.

With a surge of that energy, she added it to what she was doing, and it sizzled outward. The Servant took a step back, regarding her. The man had a plain face, a bald head, and deep-set eyes. There was something about him that left her unsettled, as if there was a chill radiating from him. She did not care for what she saw.

“You feel it, don’t you?” the Servant said, voice soft but carrying easily in the still evening air. “The way to reach the Sovereign. We will sit on the Throne of Ascendance.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ellie replied, circling to keep her distance from both the Servant and the depression.

“Of course you do,” the Servant countered. “It calls to you. That’s why you’re here. That’s why we’re all here.”

Ellie braced, and once again she readied for the possibility that he might try a different approach, but it seemed as if he was studying her.

Not just studying, she suspected—readying his mimicry.

What if he was able to draw on her Blade ability? Even worse, what would happen if he managed to draw upon her other, burning power?

She didn’t even understand what that power was, but she did understand that it gave her an edge. If she lost that edge, Ellie worried that the Servants would be able to overpower her.

All around her, she could hear and feel the sound of something. Violence, perhaps?

She sensed the fabrications that Tabitha had placed, as well as a stuttering sort of energy around them. She could feel something attacking them. There were more Servants than the two she had seen.

There was Ralen, fighting with his Servant, and her, dealing with this one. But hopefully Tabitha was safe.

The man whipped power at her again, once again the shadows racing toward her. Ellie brought her blades up, crossing them in front of her, and used a surge of her Blade ability mixed with that burning sense, all in a controlled fashion. She had to be careful because she didn’t want to push out too much, as she wanted to be certain she could handle it. She also worried that if she were to expand that energy, he may find a way to replicate her power.

Ellie refused to permit that.

Still, as she pushed, as she resisted, she had to do so carefully. The energy crackled against the darkness, and then the Servant recoiled as if in pain.

She braced, ready for another attack, when the Servant suddenly stiffened. She seized the opportunity and drove her blades into his chest. He crumpled, and Ellie realized why he had stiffened.

Aliason stood behind him, swaying softly, doing the most bizarre thing that Ellie had ever seen in a fight.

The woman was singing.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Ellie regarded Aliason for a moment, trying to decide what she wanted to say to her. The woman continued to rock from side to side, standing behind the fallen Servant. It felt strange for Ellie to hold her blades in front of Aliason, especially with her standing there singing. Oddly, there was a vibration in the air, something that Ellie was able to detect through not only her Blade ability but also that other, burning sensation.

“What are you doing here?” Ellie asked, brow furrowed.

Aliason blinked and stopped singing, and she looked at Ellie with curiosity. There was something about the way she watched her.

“You follow the song,” Aliason said.

Ellie looked around, unsure what to make of what had just happened. “I don’t even know what I did. I was trying to keep the Servant from hurting me, but I wasn’t fast enough.” It was more than that, though. She wasn’t quite strong enough, either. She didn’t have the right kind of power, not for the Servants. Or at least, not that she knew of. “How did you stop him?”

She pointed to the fallen Servant, and as she did, there was something in Aliason’s expression that seemed off.

“If you use the song,” Aliason said, “you can counter those who seek to damage it. You must hear it, feel it, and then you can know it.”

Could that be the key to the kind of magic that Aliason—and others in the Guild—used? If that were true, it would make sense why Ellie hadn’t been able to overpower it. “That’s something the Guild teaches?”

Aliason frowned. “Is that what you believe?”

“Honestly, I don’t even know.”

“I wasn’t sure you should have been here, but perhaps this is exactly where you needed to be. Perhaps the song called you.”

Ellie shook her head. “It wasn’t the song. I’m not certain what it was that called me here, but not the song. And⁠—”

Tabitha.

She turned, looking behind her, and saw that Tabitha had a ring of fabrications around her. They reflected the fading light. Unlike the curious power that she felt from Aliason, she was able to pick up on the more traditional fabricated energy that came from what Tabitha had set up.

“Wait here,” she said to Aliason.

She hurried over to where Tabitha had knelt next to the circle of fabrications. Tabitha had taken a position in the middle and looked as if she was just studying it, but there was also the form of one of the fallen Servants nearby.

“I don’t think he’s getting up,” Tabitha said.

“What did you do?”

“I made sure to get some defensive fabrications before we left. I wasn’t sure if I was going to need them, but I thought I might as well bring something significant enough that I could use it against the Servants. Having seen what they were capable of doing and the possibility that we were going to have to deal with powers I didn’t know how to handle, I figured I might as well take precautions.”

Ellie checked the fallen Servant, who was ten feet away from the outer ring of fabrications Tabitha had set up. He wasn’t moving. There was a bit of blood draining from his nose, already drying. She checked for a pulse, found that he was already gone, and then stood, turning back to Tabitha and her circle of fabrications.

“What are they?” Ellie asked. Without using her Blade ability—and she wasn’t willing to do that, not if it ran the risk of damaging the fabrications, especially if Tabitha were to need them again—she wasn’t sure she could tell what it was that Tabitha had done.

“There are seven of these,” Tabitha said. “The master fabricator told me that I could use them to create a protective ring. I didn’t realize they were so offensive as well. I thought they were more to give me some space.”

Keller was the master fabricator at the palace, and Ellie was surprised that Tabitha would’ve gone to him and convinced him to help, though not at all surprised that he had been willing to do so. He was a skilled fabricator who had been serving ever since Dorian had taken the throne. She didn’t often go and visit him, not the way she once had, but that was partly because there were very few fabrications that she needed.

Other than her blades, Ellie didn’t really need much in the way of fabrications. But if they could do something like what they had done for Tabitha, maybe she had underestimated the value of such things.

“Can you deactivate them?”

“Of course I can deactivate. I was just waiting to make sure it was safe to do so.”

Tabitha leaned forward and began to gather them. As soon as she touched the first of the fabrications, Ellie felt the wave of power within them fade, enough so that it was no longer pushing against her. Strange that she would feel it so strongly, and strange that she would be able to feel the way it suddenly faded.

“So is he unconscious?” Tabitha asked as she sorted the fabrications back into her bag.

“A little more than unconscious,” Ellie said.

“He’s dead?”

“He is. What happened?”

“I don’t even know. He came at me, and I had just placed the last one. Then there was a weird ringing, like a bell tolling. I don’t know if that’s the way it was supposed to work, but it was almost as if the moment he struck, that bell rang, and he was thrown back.”

Ellie looked over to where Aliason stood, waiting. Could she have had something to do with that? Possibly, Ellie had to acknowledge. Given that Aliason spoke of the song and Ellie believed there had to be something tied to the way she had helped, she was convinced that Aliason may have somehow augmented the fabrications.

What kind of Guild magic was that?

She found it all incredibly bizarre. For that matter, she found it all incredibly impressive.

“Are you all right?”

Tabitha looked over to her, and she nodded. “I guess I wasn’t really expecting it to be quite like that, and I should’ve known that there was going to be something to it that was dangerous, especially considering what we had dealt with before, but…”

“Gather your things, and then we need to search them.”

“You aren’t going to find anything,” Ralen said from the far side of the clearing. “And this one isn’t talking.”

She looked over in surprise. Ralen stood with his sword outstretched toward one of the Servants, who was bound, probably using the same fabrication-wrapped rope they had climbed, or at least something similar to it. With her ability, she wondered if she would be able to break out of such bindings.

The Servant remained motionless as he looked over to Ralen, and there was something almost like amusement in his eyes. Almost as if he were not at all concerned about the fact that he was bound and unable to move.

“You don’t think there’s going to be anything that will be useful to us?” Ellie asked.

“He probably has some fabrications,” Ralen said, “but they will be dangerous for us to use, so it is best if we deactivate them. Do you mind taking care of that?”

Ellie shrugged, then she turned, making her way over to the fallen Servant. She rifled through his cloak and found several small fabrications, all of them made of metal and charged with a certain potency that she could feel, but she didn’t know what to make of them. With a pulse of her Blade ability, which she cycled in the same way Ralen had demonstrated to her, she overwhelmed the fabrications. It didn’t take much, nor did it take long. When it was done, she set the fabrications next to Ralen.

“It’s over,” she said.

“Good. And the one you killed?”

“His song is over,” Aliason said.

The captured Servant looked toward Aliason, and there was something different in his eyes now. Was it worry? Curiosity? Ellie wasn’t sure what to make of it, but whatever it was, it seemed as if he recognized something about Aliason. Maybe he knew that she was part of the Guild.

And if the Servants realized that the Guild and the Arbiters were after them, perhaps it would change things for them.

“Has he answered any questions?”

“Not yet, but I am confident that he will.”

The man started to laugh. “Such confidence, and so misplaced. Do you really believe that one of your kind will be able to convince me to betray the Sovereign?”

“The Sovereign isn’t here for you,” Ralen said, and he jabbed at him with the sword. When he did, there was a slight surge of his Blade ability, and also a slight surge coming from the Servant. It was almost as if he reflected Ralen’s Blade ability back at him. If that were the case, Ellie wondered how he was able to do it and if there was any way she might be able to counter that, primarily because if the Servant could reflect that power, then it posed a very different challenge for them. “We are here. We are the ones you have to deal with, the ones holding your fate.”

“I don’t fear you, and I don’t fear what comes next. The Sovereign will welcome me.”

“Do you really believe you can travel to the Sovereign?” Ellie asked, striding over to him. She had her pair of daggers in hand and was unwilling to use her own Blade ability, not wanting to risk having him reflect it back at her. Still, she braced a little bit, ready for the burning sensation, and she was curious if there was any part of that power that might be useful to her.

She couldn’t tell. The only thing she knew with any certainty was that she had to be careful because she didn’t want the Servant to mimic that power, at least until Ellie had a better idea about what it was.

“The Sovereign will welcome me.”

Aliason strode over to him, and she stood there for a moment, then started to sway from side to side. Ellie noticed that the Servant stiffened.

“What are you doing?” she asked Aliason.

“What must be done.”

“And what is that?”

Aliason didn’t say anything. Ellie couldn’t tell quite what she was doing, only that it seemed as if she was using some sort of power against him.

His body began to tremble violently, muscles seizing as though responding to some invisible force. The Servant’s eyes widened in terror as his mouth opened in a silent scream and his veins bulged along his neck and temples. His pupils dilated, then contracted, flickering wildly as if fighting some internal battle. Wave after wave of invisible pressure seemed to ripple over him, each one causing his body to jerk and convulse. His skin took on a grayish pallor, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool mountain air. The transformation was swift—life draining from his face with each passing second until all movement ceased.

“Are you going to just let her do that?” Tabitha hissed.

Ellie looked over. “I’m not sure there’s a whole lot I can do to stop one of the Guild, or an Arbiter.”

Ralen took a step back from the Servant, still holding his sword, and there was concern all over his face. Maybe it was because of what Ellie was doing, or maybe it was more about Aliason and the fact that she was somehow holding the Servant just by standing in front of him.

“She’s not with the Guild,” he said.

“How do you know?” Ellie asked.

“There’s something off about her. I’m not quite sure what it is, but I’ve seen this power before. I just didn’t expect to see it here.”

“What are you saying?”

Before he had a chance to answer, a strange keening howl began to build from the Servant.

Ellie looked around. The shadows deepened unnaturally around the ruins, darkness seeping from the crevices between stones like ink bleeding through parchment. The temperature dropped sharply, each breath visible in the suddenly frigid air. From these pools of blackness emerged massive wolflike shapes, their forms shifting and writhing like smoke given solid form.

“Ralen,” she said carefully. “We’ve seen these things before.”

“We have, and I don’t like seeing them here any more than I liked seeing them before.”

“What are they?” Tabitha asked.

“They are the night,” Aliason said, shifting as she did, “and they are responding to his call. I had thought that I might be able to contain the song, but it was too quick.”

She twisted, straightening, and when she did, the Servant fell over, face first, landing on the ground. He had stopped moving. There was something quite unpleasant and unsettling about how quickly Aliason had done that and, as far as Ellie was able to tell, the bloodless way she had simply killed him.

“The night?” Ellie asked.

More of the creatures moved closer, bodies low to the ground as they circled the group. Muscles rippled and their heads bobbed from side to side, testing the air with unseen senses. When one paused, the others adjusted their positions, maintaining perfect encirclement. Their movements were fluid and unnatural.

Ellie didn’t hesitate to draw upon her Blade ability this time, ready for the possibility that she was going to have to use it, perhaps mixed with that burning sensation. Surprisingly, as she began to focus on that, she started to notice that some of that power began to expand out from her, and she could feel the way it reacted, not only to this place but also to the strange creatures.

“You might want to get some of your fabrications ready,” she said to Tabitha.

“Will they work?”

“I don’t know, but I think it would be better if you had them ready than not.”

Tabitha quickly started to scramble around in her satchel, reaching for the fabrications. In a way, Ellie was a little disappointed that she had asked Tabitha to put them away because it would’ve been better if Tabitha had been able to keep herself protected.

Now Ellie was going to have to do what she could. She just didn’t know if there was going to be anything she could do as that power continued to build around her.

Ralen gripped his blade and held it upright.

Aliason simply stood motionless.

The creatures came closer and closer, prowling toward them. As they moved, Ellie felt a soft pulsation of power. It was similar to what she had been feeling before, similar to the way that drawing energy had been filling her, and increasingly, she was aware of that power and how it was building. She felt something a little different. For a while, she had felt it as if it had been muted, but now it seemed to have grown, spreading and swelling and building in a way that left her unsettled. It was an unpleasant sensation.

And somehow, it seemed to be coming from these creatures.

She braced herself, ready to fight.

Yet even as she did, she wasn’t sure what it was that she was going to be fighting, nor was she sure how she would be able to.

Not against so many. There were a dozen of these creatures—far too many for her to handle. Even with Ralen’s help, even with Tabitha’s fabrications and whatever it was that Aliason was able to do—and if she was not part of the Guild, then Ellie wasn’t even sure what she would be able to do—Ellie had no idea if they would be able to withstand this kind of an attack.

Even after they had beaten the Servants, perhaps they were going to die up here anyway.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Ellie started forward, but Ralen grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

“You won’t be able to do anything against these creatures,” he said, his voice tight. “I’ve seen what the Servants do. Seen what they destroy…”

Ellie knew that he’d lost someone to the Servants before, but not the details.

“What happened?” she asked.

He looked off into the distance for a moment. “Let’s just say I lost some I cared for. I wasn’t able to stop them. I wasn’t capable enough at the time.”

“Have you ever seen anything like these things?” she asked. His experience might help if he had.

“Not seen, but I’ve heard of them.”

“What are they?” She stared at the shadowy forms circling Aliason.

“They are from the fae realm,” Ralen said, his eyes never leaving the prowling creatures. “Shadow hounds from the other side of the gates. They don’t belong here.” His grip on his sword hadn’t changed, and there was an unfamiliar tension in his stance—almost fear, though Ellie doubted Ralen feared much of anything.

“You look like you’re ready to fight them,” Ellie said, nodding to the fabricated glow emanating from his blade.

“I’m not so certain I can, but we have to be ready and we need to know why they are out there. We also have to make sure they maintain their focus on her.”

“We can’t just let them attack Aliason,” Ellie argued. “We have to help her. Besides, didn’t you want to find out what she might know about the Servants and what’s happening here?”

Increasingly, Ellie believed that Aliason knew something, but the problem was that she wasn’t quite sure what that was going to be—or whether there was anything they could do about it.

“I don’t think she needs much help,” Tabitha observed, squinting at the distant figure. “Look at her. She’s just standing there. What is she doing? It looks like she’s singing.”

It was odd, but there was much about the Guild and their connection to minstrels that was odd. Maybe this was the way the Guild acted. Not that Ellie had much experience with the rest of the Guild, not these days, but they seemed to have power.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Ellie said, remembering Aliason’s strange behavior at the temple ruins.

“It’s an… unusual… approach.” Ralen’s voice betrayed his curiosity despite his caution.

“She talks about ‘the song.’ I don’t know what it is, but I know there’s some sort of power in it.” Ellie glanced at Tabitha. “I don’t have that much experience with the Guild—not like Zaren did. Mine was limited.”

“But you have experience with the Guild?” Ralen asked, his eyebrows rising.

“We’ve already been through this, Ralen,” Ellie said impatiently. “If you’re going to keep asking questions we’ve already answered, I’m going to get moving. If we can help her in any way, we need to try.”

“I have some fabrications,” Tabitha offered, reaching for her pack.

“Fabrications won’t work on these creatures,” Ralen warned.

“They may not work on them directly,” Ellie said, “but I’m hoping they might prevent them from getting closer. If we can create a barrier between Aliason and those things, we might buy ourselves some time to figure out a more permanent solution.”

She started forward before pausing and looking back at Tabitha. She didn’t want her friend to get separated from her, but she really didn’t want anything to happen to her, either. “Stay near me,” Ellie said to her. “Be ready with the fabrications. Activate them carefully, but try to create some sort of protection around us.”

“Not around us,” Ralen said, then pointed to Aliason. “Around her.”

“So you just want to trap her in the middle?” Ellie asked.

“As you said, it doesn’t appear as if she is trapped.”

As they approached, Ellie noticed that Aliason was indeed rocking in place, still singing. The shadow hounds had their attention fixed on her, circling steadily. One snarled and leaped, but Aliason simply moved her hand in a fluid motion. The creature bounced off what appeared to be an invisible barrier and fell back with a whimper.

It was power unlike anything Ellie had ever witnessed—a demonstration of ability that left her wondering once again just who—or what—Aliason truly was.

She could feel it, though.

When she connected to her Blade ability, Ellie could feel that power. There was something about it that struck her in a way she had not felt before, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

One of the creatures drew closer, and she felt a shift in the energy around them. The contours of power here were different from what she’d felt in the past—distinct and somehow ancient. Tabitha began placing fabrications on the ground, creating a broad circle that would encompass all the creatures. Ellie could feel the connection to the fabrications, and knew they were potent enough to protect them, but for how long?

Aliason looked over at them, continuing her strange melody, but her expression had changed. Was that worry in her eyes?

“She doesn’t want you here,” Tabitha observed quietly. “Remember what she said before? That you weren’t supposed to be here?”

“I’m not going to stand by while she faces these creatures alone,” Ellie replied, remembering Aliason’s warnings. “Not if there’s any way I can help.”

Through it all, Ellie felt a peculiar whistling sensation persist in her awareness—intermittent and fluctuating, almost like a call. Was it connected to Aliason’s song?

“What do you think we should do?” Tabitha asked, staying close.

“You need to stay behind me,” Ellie said. “I don’t know what we’re dealing with, not really, but I want you to be ready with the fabrications, and I’m going to be ready with… whatever I can do.”

Would the Blade ability be enough? Or would there be any way for her to start using that other ability, the one she was still trying to make sense of, knowing only that it seemed to make her more powerful?

“She doesn’t look trapped,” Tabitha observed. “I think Ralen might be right.”

The fabrications Tabitha had placed illuminated the creatures, and Ellie couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something familiar about these shadow hounds. The pressure she detected was reminiscent of something she’d felt in the past, but she couldn’t place it. She didn’t like the energy that she felt, though. There was something distinctly dangerous in it.

Aliason continued turning in place, her movements disconcerting. The patterns to her movements were odd, unsettling in a way Ellie couldn’t define—like watching someone dance to music only they could hear.

There had to be something more that Ellie could do. She decided to try cycling her power the way Ralen had taught her, sending just a little bit up into her mind to expand her awareness. A hint of that warmth flooded into her.

Several shadow hounds turned in her direction.

“That’s not good,” Ralen said tensely. “What did you do?”

“I just used your technique.”

“That’s not my technique.”

“Well, it’s something like yours,” Ellie said. “I cycled some power into my mind.”

“You shouldn’t do that,” Ralen muttered, more to himself than to her.

“All right,” Tabitha said, searching through her bag, “I think it’s time we prepare more fabrications. I could use a few different explosives, I think?”

“I don’t think you can scare them off,” Ralen warned.

Ellie watched as power continued to ripple from Aliason, though she couldn’t understand what the woman was doing. One of the creatures suddenly moved, darting forward.

Ellie braced herself, unsure if her twin blades would be enough against these shadow beasts. But before she could act, Aliason glided forward with surprising speed, her movements fluid and precise.

The sudden motion distracted one of the shadow hounds. It turned, rounding on her, but Aliason moved her hand forward in what looked almost like a dance gesture, brushing her fingers ever so slightly across the creature’s head.

From where she stood, Ellie couldn’t tell if Aliason actually made contact with the creature or merely passed her hand above it. Regardless, the shadow hound let out a yelp, then began to whine and cower.

Another shadow hound that had turned toward Ellie received the same treatment—a gentle brush across its head—and like the first, it yelped and sank to the ground, belly pressed to the earth.

Ralen moved forward, blade ready, but Aliason looked up and gave him a sharp glare. He shrank back, seeming to understand the warning in her gaze.

“I’ve got several fabrications in place,” Tabitha said, “but I don’t know if they’ll hold.”

The way Aliason moved made Ellie question whether there was anything they could even do. This… might be beyond her and what they were capable of.

“I don’t know that they need to,” Ellie replied, watching Aliason’s strange confrontation with the shadow hounds.

Ellie still had no idea what she’d done to draw the creatures’ attention. The way she’d cycled power into her mind shouldn’t have been enough to attract them—unless they could somehow attune to her abilities. As she considered this, she wondered again about the source of her Blade ability and whether it might be connected to these creatures in some way she didn’t understand.

“Just keep them ready,” Ellie said.

“I am,” Tabitha assured her. “And don’t worry, I’m not going to let them get to you.”

“You’re not going to let them?” Ellie asked, surprised by her friend’s confidence.

Tabitha smiled, amusement flickering across her face. “No. Besides, you need to watch what he’s doing.”

Ralen had slipped off to the side and begun making a circuit around the remaining shadow hounds.

The two creatures Aliason had touched still lay on the ground, pacified by whatever power she’d exerted over them. She flowed toward another one, but as she approached, it lunged, snapping at her. Aliason moved her hand slightly, then brought it down in that same gentle brushing motion across the creature’s head. Like the others, it whined and dropped to its belly.

Only two remained now, but these appeared to adopt a different approach. They began prowling from side to side, scratching at the ground and creating tremors in the earth. Aliason had to move back, for the first time seemingly affected by whatever the creatures were doing.

“They’re disrupting her song,” Ellie realized.

“So?” Tabitha asked.

“So I don’t know if there’s going to be any other way for us to help her.”

“Now you want to help her with it? She told you not to get involved. Wasn’t that what she said? Besides, are you much of a singer?”

“That’s not what we’d be doing. Anyway, I don’t think she understood what we’d be facing,” Ellie replied.

“Of course you’d think that,” Tabitha muttered.

Ellie moved forward, cycling more power through her mind intentionally. As before, one of the remaining shadow hounds turned toward her, its attention diverted from Aliason. The other kept its focus on Aliason, who flew forward to try to reach it. The creature snapped at her hand, forcing her to pull it back.

That left one shadow hound advancing on Ellie and Tabitha, while the other continued to threaten Aliason.

And Ralen was nowhere to be seen.

“Blast that man,” Ellie grumbled. She would have to handle this herself, though she still wasn’t sure what she could do against these creatures.

The shadow hound suddenly charged at her.

In that moment, Tabitha threw something—a fabrication that rolled beneath the creature just as it leaped. The fabrication exploded into an expanding wave of wind that slammed into Ellie, forcing her back along with Aliason but propelling the shadow hound upward.

As it began to tumble back to earth, Ellie raised her blade, ready to strike.

“Stop!” Aliason shouted, rushing toward her and grabbing Ellie’s wrist with one hand while reaching for the shadow hound with the other.

The hound fought, snapping as if to bite, but then suddenly quieted. Once again, there was a soft whine, and the creature fell silent, subdued by Aliason’s touch.

“They don’t know what they’re doing,” Aliason said, looking briefly at Ellie before turning her attention back to the shadow hound. “They do not understand. They’ve been brought here, but they do not comprehend. That is why we do not attack the things we do not understand.”

She moved to the center of the circle and surveyed the now-pacified shadow hounds.

“What are you going to do?” Ellie asked, sheathing her blades.

“They must be returned.”

“How?”

Aliason closed her eyes and began to sway again. “By using the song.”

Chapter

Twenty-Five

Ralen had disappeared while Ellie had been observing Aliason. When Ellie finally located him, he was standing not far away in the darkness, staring off into the distance. Aliason remained in the center of the hounds, rocking gently in place. Each time Ellie had asked her a question, she’d been ignored. Tabitha stayed nearby, watching intently as if she could somehow understand what Aliason was doing, though Ellie doubted there was anything her friend could truly comprehend about the strange woman’s actions. At least she was safe, surrounded by a ring of fabrications while she waited.

As Ellie approached Ralen, she was awash with the energy that radiated from Aliason—power that continued to build in a way that made Ellie increasingly aware of its presence, though she couldn’t identify its source.

“She should not be doing that here,” Ralen said without turning.

“And you seem to think these creatures shouldn’t have been here, either.”

“They shouldn’t be,” he agreed.

“You recognized them, though. And you didn’t want us to confront them because you understood they were dangerous.”

He took a deep breath. “There are stories of such things.” He turned back toward where Aliason stood. A faint light surrounded her, though most of the illumination came from Tabitha’s fabrications. Most, but not all. Ellie wondered if Aliason was somehow naturally generating the subtle glow around her—or perhaps not naturally, depending on what she was doing and how she was wielding that power.

“All right,” Ellie said. “Stories. If there are stories, why do you fear them?”

“Them?” Ralen shook his head. “I don’t know that we need to fear them, at least not with her here and with what she’s able to do. She seems quite… capable.”

The look in his eyes suggested curiosity about Aliason’s capabilities—how she was so adept, what she was able to do, and how she could do it. Ellie had no answers to these questions. Aliason was… well, Aliason.

“It’s not so much them,” Ralen said. “If they are shadow hounds, as I suspect, then they do pose some danger, at least until we better understand what they are and what they’re doing. But the real concern is the prospect of others coming through.”

“Through Twilight Gates,” Ellie suggested.

He was quiet for a moment, staring into the distance. The light from Tabitha’s ring of fabrications reflected in his darkened eyes, creating eerie shadows.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “Perhaps, but if they were coming through the Twilight Gates, I would’ve expected that we’d detect something. The fact that we haven’t suggests they have another way of visiting this realm.”

“I didn’t think there was any other way to get here,” Ellie said.

She thought about what she knew of Twilight Gates—transition points between this realm and the fae realm. Something that had always seemed impossible to her, something she’d never truly understood. When she’d worked with Zaren, he’d shown her the power within them, and she’d even seen others attempt to open them. Ellie still wasn’t entirely sure what they’d hoped to accomplish, but she had felt that power building and sensed some sort of connection to it.

Could that be what was here?

She’d felt that other power, yet Ellie still wasn’t sure what it was, nor why it had faded. There had to be something more to it, but so far she’d not been able to detect anything else about it. Whatever it was, that power had seemed muted since they’d been atop the plateau.

“There isn’t supposed to be any other way,” Ralen said. “They’re supposed to be locked, supposed to be blocked.”

Ellie knew that wasn’t entirely the case and wondered if Aliason might have answers. Aliason obviously understood the power flowing through the creatures, even if Ellie didn’t.

She turned back toward where Aliason stood, still swaying in place. Ellie could feel power radiating from her—energy that caused a strange sense of pressure and a pulsation within Ellie herself. It was almost as if what Aliason did was causing Ellie’s own ability to cycle in response.

But why would it do that? And how?

That was something she didn’t understand. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing that should even be possible, not with what she knew of such power.

“We need to talk to her,” Ellie said. “We need to find out what she knows about the creatures and why they’re here. We need to understand the connection they have.”

Ralen nodded. “I thought she might be the danger,” he admitted.

“She might be,” Ellie agreed. She couldn’t help but feel as if there had to be something more taking place that she didn’t fully know about. “She obviously understands them.”

“She didn’t harm them, though. And I suspect she’s right about what she said—about their confusion in crossing.”

“So because she was gentle with these hounds, now you think you can trust her?”

That surprised Ellie, but then again, Ralen had done quite a few things that surprised her, and this was just one more.

“Not entirely,” he said, “but the connection to what she knows might be the key to all of this. Maybe she even knows something about Jerath and the others.”

If that were the case, then why wouldn’t Aliason have said something when they’d interacted back in Busal City?

That made Ellie think she didn’t know.

Maybe Aliason was looking for the same answers Ellie and Ralen sought. She’d said there was something wrong. Ellie had heard it. So what was it?

She turned and made her way back toward Aliason. The hounds were sitting upright now, ears perked, listening attentively as if waiting for instruction. It was uncanny.

Tabitha grabbed Ellie’s arm and pulled her close. “I can’t hear anything she’s saying, but it seems like she’s talking to them. What’s more, they appear to be listening.”

“I don’t think she’s saying anything,” Ellie said. “The last time I spoke with Aliason, she mentioned something about ‘the song.’ I’m guessing she uses some kind of musical connection to draw power. I don’t truly understand it, but I can feel it.”

It was more than just feeling it, though—there was something about it that she thought she could hear.

Something faint—a melody that seemed to pulse against her consciousness. Ellie wondered if that song, the way it pressed against her senses, was something Aliason was doing intentionally, or if Ellie could feel it simply because of her own magical sensitivity.

The hounds remained focused inward, alert but calm now.

Aliason moved toward them, gliding between the creatures, which remained crouched where they were.

She tipped her head to Tabitha. “Thank you for not disturbing me. It is done.”

“What is done?” Ellie asked.

“The summons. I believe they will not be here much longer, and once they depart, you need not fear them anymore.”

“Honestly, I don’t know that I needed to fear them now. Not with you here.”

“Had I not been here, though,” Aliason began, turning to look around, a strange energy emanating from her, “it is possible you might have struggled with them.”

“I’m curious about what this is,” Ellie said, “and what you were doing with them—or to them.”

“No, I do nothing to them.”

“You obviously did something to them. I’m trying to make sense of what it was, to understand if there’s a technique I could learn.”

“There is not.” Aliason flicked her gaze past Ellie, who turned to see Ralen striding forward.

He walked toward them with confidence, but as he neared, his movements became more hesitant. Ellie smiled slightly. At least he knew to be careful around Aliason, though his hesitance made her wonder what else might happen.

“I am Ralen of the Arbiters,” he said with a slight bow, “and I appreciate what you’ve done to offer protection.”

“I did not do this for you,” Aliason replied.

“We have been following you,” Ralen admitted. “But not intentionally.”

She looked around. “I am well aware. You don’t hide your passing well, and you have loud feet.”

“Loud feet?”

He looked down at his boots, and Ellie couldn’t help but smile even wider.

“Aliason,” she said, drawing the woman’s attention, “we’re looking for a man named Jerath, and for answers about what the Servants are doing. If they’re involved in calling these creatures here, we need to know about it. We want to understand why, and what they believe they can accomplish. Are they using Twilight Gates to call these creatures, or something else entirely?”

“You speak of what you do not understand,” Aliason said.

“I’m aware that I don’t understand it,” Ellie said. “I’m hoping you can help me understand better because I’m trying to discover what the Servants have been doing and why.”

Aliason looked over to the hounds with an expression Ellie couldn’t quite read. There was knowledge in her eyes, knowledge they needed.

“Much has been changing,” Aliason finally said. “The song has been guiding me.”

“You mentioned that earlier when you were asking about Zaren.”

“Yes.” Aliason still swayed slightly as if dancing to music only she could hear. “He went to find his song.”

That surprised Ellie. She couldn’t imagine Zaren pursuing anything that would seem like a “song.” He’d always been so practical, so grounded. Though he’d been interested in better understanding his abilities, she couldn’t see him describing his search in such terms.

Maybe Zaren had gone looking for something, but if that were the case, why wouldn’t he have shared that with her?

Then again, she had known that Zaren wanted to see the world, wanted to determine if there was anything else he could uncover about what was happening. Considering everything that had occurred so far, Ellie couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he had found something significant.

“What is changing?” Tabitha asked Aliason. “You talk about the song, but I don’t understand. Can you help me understand what you mean by it changing?”

Aliason looked at her, the hint of a smile forming. “The song is the underlying rhythm that binds worlds together. It is that which these others you chase are trying to distort…” Her voice trailed off a bit. “You would like to learn the song?”

“Very much,” Tabitha said. “Could I?”

“You may not have the potential, not like Ellie. She could know it clearly.”

Ellie frowned. How could she learn the song? And if she could, would there be anything she might understand from it? Would she be able to do what Aliason did?

The burning.

That was what Aliason had to mean, but how? Better yet, why?

“You saw how they reacted,” Aliason said.

“How they reacted?” Ellie asked.

“When you began to listen.” Aliason tilted her head to the side, then pursed her lips. “It is changing again. Something has happened.”

“What is changing?”

It was so strange talking with Aliason—the way she spoke and the way she moved all suggested there was something more to her, something Ellie couldn’t grasp. She had come looking for answers about the Servants and the ancient energy drawing on her, but now she found herself with more questions.

Not the Guild.

She had made that assumption, but what if it was wrong? She thought about why they had come out here, what they had intended to find. In some ways, she couldn’t help but feel there were answers here, but not the ones she’d expected.

“Where are you going?” Ralen asked, drawing Ellie’s attention back to the present.

Aliason had started to back away. Ellie could feel something shifting in the energy around them, though she wasn’t sure what it was or why she could sense it. There was an undercurrent of power as Aliason moved farther.

“What is she doing?” Tabitha whispered.

“I don’t know,” Ellie said. “I can’t tell.”

But she thought she understood. As Aliason spoke of the song, Ellie didn’t hear music exactly, yet she sensed something—a different understanding of power. She couldn’t name it, but she felt its pull. Maybe that was what she’d felt changed.

To Aliason, it was a song. Maybe to Ellie it was the drawing.

Either way, it was the same—or at least similar.

“We follow her,” Ellie said, looking over to Ralen. “I suspect she can lead us to Jerath.”

“But what is she following?” Tabitha asked.

Ellie shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Aren’t you concerned? She’s following something—hearing something we can’t. Considering how she’s moving and what’s been happening, I find it dangerous.”

Ellie had to agree. Aliason was heading out into the darkness, following something unseen. After dealing with the hounds—or rather, after allowing Aliason to deal with them—Ellie wasn’t sure what else they might encounter or if they’d be equipped to handle it.

If they found Jerath, what would they discover him doing?

Ralen stared ahead, his expression a mixture of concern, determination, and something else—something that looked almost eager.

That gave Ellie pause. Why would Ralen be eager?

She’d been betrayed by Jerath once. Would she be betrayed by Ralen as well?

She didn’t think so. She believed he was trustworthy, but considering her recent experiences, a part of Ellie wondered if she’d already made a mistake in trusting him.

The hounds rose silently and began to follow Aliason, forming a strange procession into the darkness. Their movements were fluid and coordinated, no longer predatory but purposeful.

“I don’t like this,” Tabitha whispered, clutching her satchel of fabrications closer.

“We need answers,” Ellie replied as she checked her blades, “and I think she’s the only one who can provide them.”

Ralen fell into step beside Ellie. “Be ready,” he murmured. “Whatever she’s following, it called to these creatures for a reason.”

As they moved deeper into the ruins, the ancient energy Ellie had sensed since arriving grew stronger, pulling at something deep inside her. The burning sensation flared in response, like an ember catching a breeze.

“Can you feel it?” she asked Ralen.

“Yes,” he said grimly. “Something old. Something that shouldn’t be here.”

Ahead, Aliason moved with growing urgency, her steps more purposeful now. The procession of shadow hounds followed, their forms seeming to blend with the darkness between the ancient stones.

Tabitha kept close to Ellie, one hand constantly near her fabrications. “Do you trust her?” she asked, nodding toward Aliason.

“I don’t know,” Ellie admitted. “Zaren did. Right now, she’s our best chance of understanding what’s happening.”

The ruins opened into what must have once been a central plaza. Moonlight illuminated the ancient stones. In the center stood what remained of a circular structure—the foundation stones arranged in a pattern that reminded Ellie of the explosion sites in Busal City.

Aliason stopped at the edge of this circle, the hounds forming a perimeter around it. She turned to face them, her eyes reflecting the moonlight.

“This is where it began,” she said, her voice carrying clearly in the night air. “This is where the song changed. And this is what we must understand.”

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Ellie waited for her to elaborate, but Aliason merely turned and began walking away from the plaza, moving with deliberate purpose toward the eastern edge of the ruins. The shadow hounds followed, a bizarre convoy trailing behind her.

“I think we should follow,” Ellie said, and they did.

By the time morning came, they were exhausted. They had followed Aliason through the night, who had taken a slow, meandering course across the plateau. At one point, Ralen had suggested that they rest and track Aliason from a distance, especially considering how slowly she was moving. When he’d made the suggestion, Ellie had been wavering on her feet, struggling to stay standing. Yet she had another concern that kept her moving forward—the strange power she’d felt building since they’d arrived on the plateau.

“If we rest, she might suddenly start moving faster,” Ellie said.

“Then I will follow her and return to you,” Ralen offered.

“No.” Her tone was harsher and more forceful than she’d intended. The undercurrent of energy lingered around her, making her feel as if there was something more to find, though she couldn’t quite grasp what it might be.

And so they had kept going, Ellie convinced there had to be answers ahead. But as they pressed on, she found nothing but more questions.

Daylight had broken, casting a pale light through a hazy mist that surrounded them. As they walked, Ellie began to detect something different than what she had been feeling before—a subtle shift in the energy around her. She couldn’t identify its source, only that some curious power lingered in the air.

“Do you detect anything?” she asked Ralen.

He frowned, then shook his head. “Not especially. Why? Is there something here that you detect?”

Ellie did sense something, but she wasn’t sure how to describe it, or even if what she was detecting was real. She was so tired, her mind cloudy with fatigue, making it difficult to focus on what might be important. What if there wasn’t anything unusual at all, and she was merely experiencing the fog of exhaustion?

“I don’t even know anymore,” she said, letting out a soft, frustrated groan. “Maybe it’s just my imagination.”

“I’m feeling something,” Tabitha said.

Ellie glanced over to her friend, brow furrowed. “You do?”

“I do. I’ve been trying to make sense of it, but I don’t know if there’s anything truly here. Maybe it’s just the weird energy of this place, though if that’s all it is, I don’t quite know why it feels this way. The fabrications haven’t been giving me many answers.”

Tabitha was relying on her fabrications? That surprised Ellie, but perhaps that was exactly what she should have been doing as well.

“There’s been a quietness around us,” Ralen said. “I’ve been testing whether there’s anything here I might detect, but so far, everything feels empty, absent. I’ve been looking for answers, but there’s been nothing of note.”

Ellie could still sense Aliason’s presence, but wasn’t sure how or why this different power lingered. In her mind, there had to be something important up here, but the vague energy she detected was difficult to identify.

“Do you think the hounds are still out here?” Tabitha asked, turning to face the way they had come.

They had watched the hounds periodically as they walked, wondering if the creatures would follow them. So far, they had seen no further sign of them. Ellie was curious whether the hounds had returned to wherever they had come from, though she wasn’t sure where that might be. The only thing she knew with any certainty was that she had sensed something from those creatures, and until she better understood what that was, she couldn’t determine what more she needed to consider.

“I don’t think so,” Ellie said. “I haven’t seen them, haven’t heard anything, and I haven’t felt anything like their presence.”

“She is not going where I thought she would go,” Ralen finally said after they had walked in silence for some time.

“Where did you think she was going to go?” Ellie asked, trying to keep her mind focused on the task.

“There is a place up here. I anticipated that they would have gone through the mountain pass because it would have led beyond, and perhaps even back where they had been before.”

“So you thought they were going to attack Busal City again?” Tabitha asked.

“I don’t know,” he said. “When it comes to them, it’s difficult to know what they’re after. They are heading in this direction, though she is taking a very different approach than I would have expected.”

“Do you think she’s wrong?”

“No,” he said, and Ellie noticed he seemed a little disappointed by the prospect. Almost as if he had hoped they would have been wrong.

“I think we’re following the right trail,” Ellie said. “I just don’t know what that trail is.”

She blinked several times, trying to clear her thoughts, but the fog in her mind kept returning, making it difficult for her to pick up on anything distinctly. Still, as they traveled, she had a sense they were heading in the right direction, though at this point, she wasn’t sure what direction that was or if there was anything else to find.

It was near evening when they caught a glimpse of Aliason again. She had stopped, resting with her hand on one of the trees up ahead, swaying ever so slightly. Ellie held her hand up, motioning for Ralen to stop.

“Let’s give her some space. She obviously wants to keep her distance. Until we have a better idea about what she’s hoping to accomplish, we shouldn’t push her too hard.”

“Reasonable.” He pointed to a cluster of rocks. The landscape was fairly barren and bleak here, with a cold, biting wind coming through the mountains. “Why don’t we wait over there, out of the wind, and see if we can uncover anything else? We can rest and recuperate while she talks to the tree.”

It sounded ridiculous, but it did seem as if that was exactly what Aliason was doing.

They followed him over to the rocks. Ellie kept watching Aliason, expecting the woman to acknowledge their presence, but she had her back to them as she continued to hold her hand on the trunk and sway the way she had been doing ever since they’d encountered her up here. Ellie could almost feel something emanating from her and began to wonder if she might detect some contour of power. Yet she couldn’t identify what it was, only that she felt overwhelmed by exhaustion. Maybe the fog of sleeplessness she was experiencing was tied to something supernatural.

She started to cycle her power, working it into her fingertips and toes, then slowly beginning to push it up into her mind, extending cautiously this time. She didn’t want to cause any sort of alarm or create problems as she pressed that power upward. Gradually, she felt her mind clearing.

A cold fear began to wash through her. She shouldn’t have felt such a stark difference. The only reason it would work that way would be if something had been influencing her mind.

But why wasn’t it affecting Ralen or Tabitha?

Maybe Ralen was cycling his power in a way that protected him. And maybe Tabitha wasn’t the target, or perhaps the fabrications she carried offered a measure of defense. Regardless, Ellie felt a growing concern about what had happened and why she had suddenly been able to clear her mind.

Ellie didn’t understand the power affecting her—what it was, why it was targeting her, or precisely what it was trying to accomplish. Some part of it seemed to be making her stumble with fatigue. Yes, she was exhausted, yet what she had been feeling suggested this wasn’t merely natural tiredness but something more—a supernatural tiredness.

But why?

That was the question that troubled her, and she had no good answer as to what she had been experiencing, only that something was pushing against her, making it increasingly difficult for her to function clearly.

“Do you feel anything?” Ellie asked Ralen.

He looked around, then shook his head. “I do not. What am I supposed to be feeling?”

“I don’t know.” She held out her hand and waved to Tabitha. She needed to determine if she was the only one being influenced. “I’ve been experiencing an unusual type of exhaustion.”

“You didn’t sleep much,” Tabitha said.

“It’s more than that. I’ve been feeling a sense of fatigue wash over me, and though I’ve been trying to make sense of whether there’s anything different about it than just ordinary tiredness, I haven’t been able to tell. If it’s just natural exhaustion, that’s one thing, but I don’t think that’s what it is. I don’t think that’s all it is, at least.”

Though Ellie could feel this strange influence, she had no idea if there was anything else she should be aware of. She had started to push against it, but in the process, she hadn’t been able to identify more about it.

“It wasn’t until I started to cycle that power back into my mind that I noticed something different.”

At this point, it was difficult for her to articulate exactly what she had detected, only that there seemed to be something more—some other connection, some other power—that she had sensed.

“You started cycling in your mind again?” Ralen asked.

“I didn’t have much choice. I could feel something influencing me, but I wasn’t sure what it was or why it was so potent. I just knew I had to try something.”

“It’s dangerous. I haven’t felt it, but maybe that’s because I’ve been naturally protected.” He shook his head. “Though perhaps…”

“What?” Ellie asked.

“Maybe I’ve been doing something similar, but unintentionally.” He said it quietly, almost as if ashamed of the possibility that he might have been doing exactly what he’d warned her against.

“Wait,” she said, “you’ve been cycling power into your mind while telling me not to do it?”

“Not exactly,” he said, though he frowned. “Maybe to a certain extent, but it has been subtle.”

“Subtle?” Ellie didn’t know how such a thing could be subtle. “What does that mean?”

“Just that I might be using something similar more often than I realized.” He shrugged. “It makes little difference. The only thing that matters is that you need to be careful.”

“And you don’t?” she challenged.

“I need to be careful as well, but my caution is tempered by the fact that I have more experience than you do. I’m better equipped to handle such things.”

Ellie snorted and turned to Tabitha. “Have you managed to pick up on anything unusual?”

Tabitha shook her head. “I feel fine. Well, I’m tired, but I don’t feel anything strange. Maybe it’s the fabrications.” She tapped on her necklace. “I made sure to bring certain protective items with me because I didn’t want to get targeted.”

“That was a good plan,” Ellie said.

“I know. I’ve got other fabrications that are meant to detect places that might be more significant, where we could hopefully have an idea of what we might come across here, including whether there might be something older. I haven’t found it.”

“I didn’t know there were any fabrications like that.”

“They’re specialized,” Tabitha said. Ellie waited to see if she’d say more, but she didn’t. Tabitha turned to Ralen. “So if she’s not supposed to be doing the same thing you’re doing, how is she supposed to protect herself?”

“She shouldn’t have to,” he said.

Ellie laughed. She shouldn’t have to? That seemed ridiculous, especially considering that she had little control over what was happening to her. Given everything she had been through, she didn’t know what else would make a difference.

She cycled her power again, ensuring her mind remained clear. Each time she did so, she felt a distinct energy, something unique that seemed important. But even as she focused on it and attempted to make sense of that connection, she didn’t know what else might be working through her.

Something had targeted her specifically.

What if it wasn’t just her?

Aliason stood a bit ahead of them in the distance, moving with the slowness that had been typical for her, but what if there was some other element to the way she was swaying, as if she was feeling something unusual, too?

What if Aliason had been affected?

The woman was certainly more capable and powerful than Ellie, but Ellie couldn’t shake the possibility that maybe there was another element she didn’t understand—something that might have even influenced Aliason despite all her natural protections.

“We need to get up to where she is,” Ellie said. “I know we wanted to hang back to observe what she might be doing, but I’m concerned she might be being influenced the same way I was.”

Ralen pointed at Aliason. “Look at her. She’s doing the same thing she has been ever since we first saw her.”

“Not the same,” Tabitha said. When Ellie looked over, Tabitha shrugged. “I’ve been monitoring her movements. I figured it might make sense to try to document them because I didn’t know if there was anything significant in them. The movements she used with the hounds were rhythmic. This is more of a steady sway. The rhythm is different from what she did before.”

Ellie hadn’t noticed that distinction, but she knew something felt different. She tried to cycle her own power again, testing her connection, wondering if there might be something within it that would help her understand, but she didn’t detect anything more.

If there was anything unusual influencing Aliason, it remained elusive.

Ellie moved forward to reach her, thinking that if nothing else, she wanted to try to help her if she was struggling.

As she neared, however, she noticed a pulse of a different kind of energy beginning to build. At first, she thought maybe it was something Ralen had done. She looked over to him, but he was staring intently around them, the same way Ellie was now doing. She looked over to Tabitha, but her friend hadn’t changed her fabrications or reached for anything else.

What was it?

Ellie didn’t know, and she grew increasingly concerned about the possibility that it might be something dangerous. Yet as she watched, trying to make sense of it, she started to feel another pulse, another ripple of power. It began to shift around her in a way that left her thinking there had to be a different explanation for what was happening.

The pressure built, then began to swell, coming closer.

She reached for her blades as the attack swept toward them.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

“Get behind me,” Ellie said to Tabitha.

Tabitha had been staring at Aliason, watching as the other woman rocked back and forth, and Ellie knew her friend wasn’t prepared for the possibility of an attack. For that matter, Ellie hadn’t been fully ready, either. If not for the strange building energy she’d detected, she might not have noticed anything at all. But she had felt the power that continued to compress around her in a way she couldn’t quite understand.

She turned in place, cycling that connection from deep within her out to her fingertips, into the blades. As she did, she tested something different, trying a different rhythm, and began to notice that her blades vibrated slightly. A faint light radiated from them.

That’s new.

Tabitha glanced in her direction. “Do you see something?”

The light cascaded outward, but Ellie couldn’t see anything definitive—just a sense of power and movement building in a way she knew she needed to master. She couldn’t help but feel there was some other texture, some other aspect swelling around them.

Then she saw the movement.

“What is it?” Tabitha asked, reaching for her fabrications.

“I don’t know yet.” Ellie’s eyes narrowed as she tried to peer through the darkness. “But I’m not going to cut it down until I figure out what it is and whether we should be concerned.” She breathed out a heavy sigh. “Whatever’s coming might be something Aliason wouldn’t want us to destroy.”

“Assuming it’s like those hounds,” Tabitha said, motioning behind her.

“Assuming that it is.”

What Ellie noticed was darkness moving—shifting shadows that she could barely make out. She could only feel that peculiar energy radiating and pushing against her. The sense of power was quite different from what she had sensed before.

This didn’t feel like the hounds had. That had been something acute, but there had been a presence to it that Ellie had recognized as misplaced. Now, however, there was something oddly familiar about this pressure sweeping toward her.

“Sacred Souls,” Ellie muttered, looking over to Ralen. “We have to be careful here. I don’t know what’s coming, but these creatures might be influenced the same way the hounds were.”

“If something’s coming to attack us, I’m not going to stand by and let it,” he said, drawing his sword.

“I’m not saying to let it attack you, but we need to⁠—”

Ellie didn’t have a chance to finish as a shape lunged out of the darkness.

The creature was long-bodied with gangly limbs and a strange wolflike head that seemed overly large for its frame. Its ears drooped down, but its fangs flashed, reflecting the light from her still-glowing blade. As she braced for what was coming, she wasn’t sure what she should do.

She cycled her power, the only thing she could think of doing. She felt the power pulsing through her and radiating outward.

The creature came closer and then seemed to bounce off an invisible barrier—as if it had reached some sort of shell that Ellie had created. She had often done something similar with her ability, but never quite like this—never expanding out from the blade and never controlling it with the cycling technique. This was something almost tangible.

“That’s interesting,” she muttered, and then she started toward the creature.

It lay motionless, as if stunned.

She examined it cautiously. It was black as night with something unsettling about it, but much like with the hounds, Ellie didn’t want to harm it. She couldn’t shake the feeling that if she were to hurt this creature, Aliason would be upset.

And so she chose otherwise.

Ellie moved onward, glancing over to where Aliason still moved with that unusual intensity, seemingly unmindful of what they were dealing with.

“All right,” Ellie said, speaking just loud enough for Ralen to hear but careful not to draw the attention of anything else that might be out there, “this is how we deal with them. I used something of a shell, cycling power out from my blades.”

“That is one technique,” he said, sliding up next to her with surprising speed and silence. “It’s one I should have taught you.”

“There are a lot of things you should’ve taught me,” Ellie said.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I don’t know if there’s time to do so.”

Ellie wasn’t sure she agreed, but at this point, did it even matter?

She turned in place, sweeping her gaze around, feeling that strange connection and power building within her.

“Ellie,” Tabitha said. She pointed, and Ellie noticed three more of those creatures prowling slowly closer. “I’ve already tried a few different fabrications, but nothing seems to work. When they get close enough, the power just sort of fizzles out.”

“Could they have our ability?” Ellie asked Ralen.

“It’s possible.” His voice sounded far calmer than Ellie felt. “We don’t truly know the origin of our abilities. Well, I know the origin of mine, but I don’t know the origin of yours.” He regarded her with a level of curiosity that made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

“Anyway,” she said. “What are we supposed to do here?”

“The same as you did before.”

Yet as the creatures got closer, Ellie wasn’t certain she could resist them. There was power coming toward her, but it wasn’t just the power—it was how it was coming at her, the technique she felt building in a way she couldn’t quite identify.

They were pushing on her. She started cycling more and more energy, trying to find more power, and as she did, she felt energy pushing against her, attempting to counter her efforts.

The connection was peculiar enough, and unique enough, that Ellie didn’t know if there was anything else she could do. She tried to cycle again, tried to push, but she felt another bit of resistance each time she did.

That resistance kept building. Every time she felt it, every time she felt that swelling of energy, Ellie recognized there was an aspect of it she didn’t know if she could overcome. That power continued to sweep at her, oddly familiar.

Then the creatures were upon them.

Ralen darted forward. He brought his blade up, then down in a sharp strike. He was thrown backward and slammed into the ground. After several moments, he looked up with a confused expression.

Ellie didn’t have a chance to process what happened as two of the creatures came toward her. Tabitha tossed a fabrication, and as she had described before, it fizzled out. Ellie felt the power within it bloom, then suddenly change.

She had to try something different, but at this point, she didn’t know if there was anything else she could do. The power around her was pushing against her in a distinctive way, and until she better understood what it was, she wasn’t sure she could counter it.

She turned in place, feeling for the connection around her, that buildup of power. The creatures were pushing, and as she felt it, she began to push back. But there was a different sort of energy near her, and increasingly, Ellie could identify the source of it, though she didn’t know how she could or why she felt it so acutely.

“Keep trying,” she said to Tabitha.

“You think I’m not?” Tabitha sounded frustrated.

“I’m not saying that, I’m just saying to keep trying.”

The two other creatures were prowling, and as she looked over to Ralen, she found that he was backing away, though still wielding his blade as he attempted to fend off his attacker.

“Any suggestions?” Ellie asked him.

“Something’s wrong here.”

“You mean other than the fact that we’re dealing with strange creatures like this?” she asked.

“Other than that,” Ralen said, smiling tightly. “There’s something weird going on. I don’t know quite what to make of it, and I don’t know if there’s anything else we need to do. I can feel that power building, and I’m struggling to make sense of it. I don’t know if we can overpower them.”

“What if that’s not the key? What if we need to do what Aliason had done?” She looked over to where Aliason was still swaying, seemingly unaware of their plight.

She had been influenced. Ellie felt that with certainty, but knowing that didn’t make it any easier for her to do anything about it. The only thing she could think of was that she had to try to help her, but how?

Aliason spoke of a song and of power within it, so in Ellie’s mind, there had to be something there that she might be able to help with—perhaps something she might be able to feel or hear that would make a difference. Until she had a better idea about what it was, though, Ellie didn’t know what else she could do.

“I don’t think we can sedate them,” Ralen said.

“I don’t, either,” she agreed. “We don’t have her technique.”

“I don’t know if they should be sedated, anyway. There’s something wrong with these creatures.”

“Like the hounds?”

“I don’t know.”

They could be like the shadow hounds, which had come from the fae realm, and if that was the case, then Ellie questioned if there would be any way to do anything about them. In fact, she doubted there would be. It was highly unlikely they could challenge anything here, and highly unlikely she could counter that power because she could feel that energy growing stronger in a way that left her with a tingling sense of unease.

So she cycled and made a point of pushing some of that energy into her mind, then drawing it back down and out into her hands, causing the blades to reverberate. This time, something to that reverberation echoed differently, and distinctly, against them.

But it was behind those creatures.

“There’s something else out there,” Ellie said. “You deal with them. I’m going to take a look.”

“Ellie—”

She ignored him as she raced past the creatures, dragging Tabitha with her. Tabitha tossed another fabrication, but again it had no effect.

“If they don’t work, why do you keep throwing them?” Ellie asked.

“I don’t know,” Tabitha said. “I realize that technique probably isn’t going to help much, but I keep thinking…” She shook her head. “I keep thinking that it might work, but I also recognize that it probably won’t.”

Ellie continued to cycle that power as they ran, feeling it flowing within her, past her, and in a different pattern. She didn’t know if there was any other technique she needed to do differently.

“Something’s up there,” she said. “I don’t know what it is, but I think it’s tied to whatever is happening here. I’m trying to pick up on it, but I haven’t been able to find anything or uncover any explanations about what’s there or whether there’s any way I can deal with it.”

Tabitha nodded. “Whatever you say, I’ll do it.”

As she focused, trying to understand it, she couldn’t tell anything specific, but Ellie had to follow the strange vibration she was able to detect. She could pick up on some of that contour of power, but until she had a better sense of it and a better idea about what it was, Ellie didn’t know if there was anything else she could do.

She saw a small, irregularly shaped item resting on the ground. In the darkness, had she not had the pale light from her cycling, she might not have noticed it. It might have looked like a stone. Since she had been working, she felt the echoing, the reverberation through the blades, as if there was something here that reacted to it that made it so that she was able to better detect it.

It was a fabrication.

“Somebody left this here,” Ellie said softly. “I can feel it, but I don’t know what this fabrication is doing.”

Still, there was no doubt in her mind that the fabrication did something. She could feel the power within it, she could feel the way it was flowing, and she could feel that it seemed to be trying to influence something or someone.

Was this the source?

Could this be what had been targeting her—and, in effect, Aliason?

She looked back. Ralen was dancing around the three creatures, all of them prowling toward him, and he continued to burst with his ability. Ellie felt certain rhythms from him, a bit of power that exploded, and yet he hadn’t been able to overpower them.

He seemed cautious, not attacking with the same ferocity as he had tried before.

He needed her help.

“I’m going to shatter this fabrication,” Ellie said. “Assuming it’s doing what I think it is, I believe it’s going to free Aliason, who should be able to help us with those creatures.”

“I trust you,” Tabitha said, “but you better move quickly because something is coming toward us.”

She pointed, and Ellie noticed a shadow moving in the direction she indicated. Ellie brought her blade up and cycled power through it, using a technique she had never attempted when disrupting magic, but this just felt right. She cycled it into her hand, felt the blade vibrating, and then jammed it down into the fabrication.

The fabrication fought her, its power pushing up against her as if it was resisting. Then the fabrication faded, the power within it crumbled, and Ellie’s blade crashed through it, shattering it.

When it was done, the strange pressure that Ellie had been feeling disappeared.

It was gone.

Now something felt off.

She spun, looking over to Ralen. He stood alone.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I… don’t know,” he said. “They just bounded away. What did you do?”

She told him what she had done. “And Aliason?” Ellie asked, turning toward the tree, but even as she did, she knew. Somehow, she knew.

Aliason was gone.

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

“What just happened?” Tabitha asked, striding around the tree. She had a long, irregularly shaped branch-like item in her hand, which she waved as she moved. Ellie recognized it as a detection rod, something the Investigators used in Busal City to sense power signatures. She hadn’t known Tabitha had brought one, but considering what they were dealing with, it made sense. The rod would allow her to test energies they encountered, potentially picking up what Ellie and Ralen couldn’t sense with their abilities.

“I don’t know,” Ellie said, her voice tight with concern. “We disrupted the fabrication, and then she was gone.”

“Did she leave with the creatures?” Ralen asked, scanning the darkness.

“That doesn’t make sense, either.”

Why would Aliason, who had been subduing those creatures, suddenly vanish with them? Ellie had no idea what had happened, other than the fact that she had felt that power pushing not only on her but also, she now suspected, on the creatures as well.

But why?

“Can we track her?” Tabitha asked, her detection rod held high.

Ellie frowned and focused, questioning if there would be any way she might pick up on anything, but even as she concentrated on that energy, she could not feel Aliason’s presence.

Either Aliason had truly vanished—and a part of Ellie wondered if she had gone into the fae realm, assuming the creatures they’d just dealt with were fae—or she was suppressing her presence, making it impossible for Ellie to detect her. Regardless, feeling nothing, she had no idea what else she could do, despite straining to detect any trace of the woman.

“I can’t,” Ellie said, looking over to Ralen.

He spread his hands, then shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I had a difficult time with her to begin with, and now it’s as if she’s simply… absent.”

“Absent?” Tabitha said, her voice edged with worry.

“Right,” Ellie said softly.

“I know you want to find her,” Ralen said, “but we still don’t know what the Servants are up to here. If they’re responsible for this, we have to keep moving.” His hand rested on his sword hilt.

“But move where?” Ellie challenged.

“We follow what we’ve been following.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure what we’ve been following. The strange drawing sensation is gone. We had been following Aliason, but if she’s gone, too, we don’t have anything to guide us anymore. Were you able to identify anything about that fabrication?” Ellie asked Ralen.

“I was not,” he said. “It’s not any kind of fabrication I’ve seen before, and it’s not anything from Ardem, if that’s your next question.”

“Actually, it isn’t,” she said. “I didn’t think it was Ardem.”

Ardem had incredible fabrications and power, and it wouldn’t be surprising to learn that they were capable of something like that, but it didn’t fit with what she knew of them, nor did it fit with her experience of how they manufactured fabrications or used them.

“So what can we follow?” Ellie asked.

They had to figure out what the Servants were doing. More and more, Ellie knew they had to stop them—even if she wasn’t quite sure how.

“There’s a different undercurrent of power here. It’s soft, subtle, and I’ve been feeling it more lately. You could follow it as well, but the technique is different than what you’ve been doing. It’s a slower rhythm.”

Slower?

Ellie had been working on her speed, trying to cycle quickly because that had been effective, but Ralen had never suggested she try going slower.

Of course, maybe he hadn’t needed to suggest it because he had thought that by telling her she had an opportunity to test different rhythms of power, she could have come up with this on her own.

She started to cycle her power more slowly. When she moved it into her hands and feet, she felt nothing, but when she began to cycle it up into her mind, Ellie detected something odd. It was a faint energy that lingered, a little different and distinct from what she would have expected. Was that what she should be looking for? Was it the kind of power that had been there all along?

“I… I can feel it,” she said.

How had she not noticed it before?

Ralen nodded. “Good. That’s what we follow.”

“And Aliason?” Tabitha asked, concern evident in her voice.

“She is not the target,” he said.

Maybe not, but something was not quite right.

Aliason had not vanished on her own. Something had happened, and Ellie wasn’t sure what it was, but she didn’t know if it was anything to be concerned about. Aliason was obviously powerful, and more than that, she had a distinct magical signature. Now Ellie felt nothing.

“I’m going to need to rest at some point, but…”

Ellie looked around. Not here.

“How about when we don’t have weird fae creatures hunting us?” Tabitha asked.

“I agree with her,” Ralen said. “If more of those appear, I’d like to have a more defensible position.”

They set off, and Ellie did what Ralen had told her not to do—she continued to cycle power into her mind, but with a different rhythm than before. She tested various speeds: slow, fast, medium, varied and several combinations. None gave her any answers about what she could do with it, other than the fact that she could feel the power flowing in and through her.

Despite all that, Ellie could still feel the power, could still detect the way it persisted and flowed up into her mind. She felt the rhythm within it.

And there was definitely a rhythm.

By the time they reached a small cluster of pine trees, Ellie was exhausted. Ralen suggested they get a brief rest, and she didn’t argue before collapsing to the ground and falling into a quick slumber. She dreamed of rhythms, of wielding power, though none of those dreams gave her any idea about what else she needed to do, other than feeling the power coursing through her. By the time she awoke, it was early morning. She felt better, though still not fully rested.

Ralen was seated, legs crossed, hands resting on his thighs, eyes closed. Ellie couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or simply sitting meditatively.

She slowly sat up and concentrated, wondering if there might be a way for her to make sense of what else was happening, but she couldn’t feel anything more—just a vague emptiness. She suspected it was tied to the fact that Ralen was still wielding some of his ability, but not as openly as before. He kept much of it suppressed.

She let out a soft sigh as she tried to gather her thoughts and prepare for what they might have to do, but at this point, Ellie didn’t know what that would be.

Regardless of what happened with the Servants, at some point they would also have to find Aliason.

“Something is watching us,” Ralen said, not even opening his eyes.

The words sent a chill down Ellie’s spine. She blinked, tearing her gaze away, and started to focus on cycling some of her power. “I haven’t noticed anything. I don’t feel it.”

“Just give it time,” Ralen said, “and you need to work more slowly. This is steady, a regular sort of rhythm. It’s surprising because when we’ve been following other energies here, I’ve needed a higher, faster frequency to track them.”

It was the most he’d shared with her about tracking in quite some time.

“So you adjust your frequency when you’re tracking?” she asked, moving to take a seat next to him. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, and he sat in the same position. Ellie mimicked his posture and sat upright, feeling as if her back was a little too stiff for comfort, the ground a little too hard, a rock poking into her thigh. She tried to ignore it all, thinking that was what he wanted from her, but she wasn’t sure she could.

Still, she started to focus on cycling, allowing that power to sweep through her in a way it hadn’t before as she attempted to identify a rhythm.

The rhythm was the key, she knew. That was what she needed to follow in order to better understand what was happening here and whether she could feel that power.

She felt Ralen first. He was easy to detect—close, radiating warmth. More than that, she was acutely aware of the way he worked, sending power slowly cycling outward. She wouldn’t have noticed that even a few months ago. It was because of what he had taught her—to better understand how he wielded his connection—that Ellie was able to pick up on what she could now.

As she continued to cycle, trying to follow that power, she felt beyond Ralen. She needed to strain to feel beyond him.

There was a sense of Tabitha—or rather, the fabrications she carried. By adjusting the frequency of her cycles, sending some up into her mind with a slow, rhythmic wave of energy, she could feel the steady rolling energy of Tabitha’s fabrications. There was an undercurrent of something else there. She started to turn to look over at Tabitha but realized the movement itself was disruptive, so she stopped.

This had to be the reason Ralen sat the way he did, meditative and contemplative as he concentrated on working his energy outward. He was attempting to pick up on more, and Ellie needed to mimic the way he worked, the power he wielded.

Then she noticed something a little farther out. At first, she thought maybe these were the watchers Ralen had mentioned, but as she continued to slowly roll out her connection and create waves of power, she realized that wasn’t it at all. The sense was not far from them.

Fabrications.

She hadn’t realized there were other fabrications out there. As she concentrated her awareness on them and sent an additional rolling wave of her ability toward them, she tested those fabrications to see if there might be something within them she could identify. It was difficult. They were vague, not quite the same fabrications she had expected. These were not Tabitha’s—they were from Ardem, and she hadn’t even realized Ralen had brought anything like that with them.

With her technique, she was able to pick up on different textures within the fabrications. That was strange. Normally when she exerted her awareness over fabrications, Ellie was able to identify a type of power within them—some from the vibration she noticed, some from the way they irritated her senses. That was the lesson Zaren had taught her, how he had wanted her to become increasingly aware of different fabrications.

Over time, Ellie had honed that ability and reached the point where she was better equipped to track power based on how it felt against her. She had not been able to truly master detecting purposes of fabrications from a distance, but she had a general idea if power was dangerous or not.

However, as she used this rolling, steady wave, she could pick up different distinct features to the fabrication. She noticed how they were angled, how they targeted, and how they were linked together.

It was impressive, she had to admit. She had never known she could do anything like that. Her ability had been useful, and it was a part of what she had always known, but now she felt something more, something unique, a connection that seemed meant to bridge her in some way. Though it did, she wasn’t able to pick up on anything more.

Ralen remained silent as Ellie continued to send more of that sweeping power outward, allowing the energy to roll beyond, trying to push and test more and more. In the process, she began to notice another undercurrent beyond, and she tested farther away.

It wasn’t until she continued to sweep outward, ignoring the closer irritations against her rolling waves of power, that she started to pick up on a different sort of texture that was out there. What was there seemed to be stationary, but there was a potency to it as well.

She sucked in a sharp breath.

“Good,” Ralen’s soothing voice said, and Ellie made a point of not opening her eyes. “That is very good. Do you know how long it takes most people to detect something like this?”

“I don’t know,” Ellie said, mimicking the softness of his voice and even the tone, wondering if there was something to the way he was speaking that would help her not disrupt what she was doing. “I would imagine your people can do this quickly.”

“Not so quickly, and not my people.”

“You can’t do anything like this?”

“I obviously can, but I didn’t learn it in Ardem.”

This was one of the lessons he had taught her, not anything from the fabrication breakers. That surprised her, but maybe it shouldn’t have.

“What are they?” she asked, a chill spreading through her as she felt the watchers more distinctly now.

“I don’t know, but they haven’t been moving, so I’m hopeful they are not dangerous.”

“And if they are?”

“If they are, then we need to be ready for the possibility that we’ll have to fight. But I’m hopeful that won’t be the case. I don’t know, though.”

As Ellie continued to send power sweeping out from her, trying to follow it, she didn’t know, either. She couldn’t feel anything more. It was just the wave meeting some resistance, steady and watching.

“What do we do with them?”

“We test,” he said, “but if they don’t attack, we don’t attack.”

“You fear them?” Ellie asked, opening her eyes at that point. When she did, her ability to follow the wave of power shifted. It was almost as if having her eyes closed allowed her to detect something a little different, a little less distinct, and maybe even a little farther from herself.

“I fear where they might have come from,” he said, his voice grave.

“You think they might be fae,” she said.

“I don’t know, but given what else we’ve uncovered and what else we’ve seen as we’ve been dealing with this, I think we have to at least consider the possibility.”

If it was fae, if the creatures out there were tied to everything they had dealt with, what else did they need to do? Could they, or should they, handle it in any way?

Ellie didn’t know.

And increasingly, it was the not knowing that bothered her—the uncertainty about what was happening here and about what had happened to Aliason.

She wanted answers, yet she didn’t know that they would get them until they managed to find Aliason—or worse, Jerath. As the realization settled over her, a subtle shift in the energy around them made her hair stand on end.

Whatever was watching them had moved closer.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

They set off again once Tabitha had awoken.

They didn’t talk about what was out there. Ellie had been attempting to cycle her power, trying to feel the watchers, but even as she had, there had been no greater awareness of the creatures she suspected were there. She had been tempted to go chasing after them, but she assumed that if she did, they would scatter. The lack of any overtly dangerous threat told her that maybe she needed to leave things as they were. There was no reason to pursue them, no reason to create any problem, because Ellie could feel something else building around them—a different energy altogether.

There was something within it that she’d felt before, and she started to wonder if Jerath was out here somewhere. She’d spent time around him, knew his magical signature—at least she did now—and thought she felt it, but couldn’t be sure.

“Do we even know what we’re following?” Tabitha asked Ralen. “We’ve been gone for a couple of days now, and it’s getting colder. I don’t think we have the right clothing for this.”

“We are going to find where this leads,” he said. “You’re free to do what you want to do.”

He looked over to Ellie, and she knew what he implied and understood what she needed to do. She couldn’t go—not when Aliason might need her, and not until she had a better idea about what had happened to her.

“We need to find Aliason,” she said. “I want answers. Until we do that, I think we just keep moving.” She looked over to Tabitha. “Besides, there has to be some historical items you can document up here.”

“Up here?” Tabitha shook her head. “There aren’t many stories about this place. This is an empty expanse, as far as I’ve been able to find in any records. The city was supposed to be back there.” She motioned behind her.

“It’s pretty empty,” Ellie agreed, scanning the barren landscape that stretched before them.

There was something that suggested to her that this wasn’t always the case. She could feel it, though she wasn’t sure what it was she could feel.

She continued to concentrate on the technique Ralen had shown her, but hadn’t managed to find anything else.

“Do you think this could be Jerath?” Ellie asked.

“I am following the change,” he said. “I believe it is tied to the Servants. Perhaps to him. I’m not entirely sure.” He shrugged.

There were fewer and fewer trees the farther they went. There were more small shrubs, and the rock became more irregular and erratic as they walked. Something about all of this left Ellie feeling uneasy. She tested, focused, and cycled, but even as she did, there did not appear to be anything more she could uncover. She just felt this emptiness and a peculiar kind of power that left her with questions as she continued to test whether there was anything else here.

Within it, though, she noticed something different.

When she slowed down her cycle, creating the steady, rhythmic wave that Ralen had suggested, she started to notice that the ground and the air around her had a different characteristic, one that Ellie started to wonder if she should have been aware of from the very beginning.

“I’m noticing something when I cycle with a slower speed,” she said.

Ralen looked over. “Where?”

She pointed. “Over there, where the land starts to drop off. It isn’t like what I felt this morning. Do you detect it?” she asked.

“Not quite the way I suspect you do,” he said, his voice tighter than before.

“Why do I feel it, then?”

“A good question,” he said, but he didn’t provide any suggestion of an answer.

They moved, veering off in the direction that Ellie had begun to feel the power. As the day grew longer, the sense started to intensify, to the point where she was able to pick up on more and more of it.

As evening fell, she noticed the connection was a little different, more potent, and she started to feel something else buried within it—something she thought she should have been able to feel before.

It was a rhythmic power, one that lingered, leaving her to feel the connection, but it was more than just that.

“Is that light up there?” Tabitha asked suddenly, pointing ahead.

They’d been heading down a small slope, rocky and irregular, and they’d veered around a pile of loose boulders. The ground continued to roll ahead of them, and as they moved, Ellie struggled to make sense of whether there was anything else she might be able to follow or pick up on. She sent her awareness rolling out from her, using a steady wave of energy, but hadn’t yet picked up on anything specific.

“It is,” Ralen said, his hand moving to his sword. “And I believe there is some sort of fabricated connection to it.”

“So somebody has fabrications out here,” Ellie said. “Does that mean the Servants? Because Aliason didn’t have any fabrications.”

If Aliason did, Ellie assumed she would have been able to pick up on something. But if it was the Servants, would she have noticed? What if it was Jerath?

She’d traveled with Jerath for a while, and that familiarity might give her an advantage. That was the risk he had run when he had traveled with her. Then again, knowing him the way she did—which, admittedly, was not all that well—she suspected his arrogance made it so that he doubted there was anything she or the others could do to harm him. When she had sparred with him, she had not been able to do all that much to him, so in a way, he wouldn’t be mistaken, either.

By the time they neared the light, the ground had flattened. Irregular rocks jutted up and were angled in odd fashions. It looked like the remains of a structure, but it felt wrong. If this had been part of the ancient city that once stood atop the cliff, it shouldn’t be here—not this far inland, not isolated like this. Something about its placement nagged at Ellie.

As she continued the slow cycling technique, she felt a subtle but unmistakable pressure against her awareness. Not just energy existing, but energy pushing—as if something was actively repelling her senses. The sensation was so faint she would have missed it entirely without using what Ralen had taught her.

“Wait,” she said, holding up a hand. “Something isn’t right.”

“What do you mean?” Tabitha asked.

Ellie closed her eyes, focusing entirely on the cycling now. “There’s power here, but it’s pushing. Like it’s trying to make us not notice something.” She tilted her head, concentrating harder. “It’s deep, old—I can barely feel it, but it’s there.”

Ralen’s gaze sharpened. “What do you feel? Describe it.”

“It’s just barely there. If I wasn’t cycling the way you showed me, I wouldn’t have detected it at all.”

“What is this place?” Tabitha asked in little more than a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Ellie said, “but it shouldn’t be here. If this was part of the ancient city, why is it here instead of back where we started?” She gestured toward the top of the cliff. “It’s like something pushed it away from the rest of the ruins.”

Ralen had been moving around in a steady circuit, but he stopped abruptly.

“I think this is part of a Temple of Ascendance,” he said, his voice suddenly tight. He looked over at her. “I detect it now. Had you not said anything…”

The name sent a chill down Ellie’s spine. Ascendance. The Servants of Ascendance. This couldn’t be coincidence.

“I did not think there would be a temple here, not like this. What’s more, this isn’t where the temple should be. The pressure you’re feeling—that’s not natural. Something has moved this, hidden it.”

She could feel the power, but she didn’t know the source of it. It pushed on her awareness, though. Something was definitely there.

As she focused, however, there was a change in the pushing, as if whatever was concealing this place was straining, changing it in some way. She looked around, and then she noticed something underneath that pressure.

It was familiar. Aliason.

A sudden, sharp crack echoed through the air, like stone breaking under tremendous pressure. The ground beneath their feet trembled.

“The Servants,” Ellie said.

It had to be. She wasn’t sure what they were doing, but the strange drawing sense that she’d felt before began to grow more intense, surging with awareness within her.

Ellie drew her blades, the burning energy inside her flaring in response to the power building around them. Whatever was coming through, she could feel it reaching for her, calling to that power within her.

“What do we do?” Tabitha asked, her voice shaking slightly as she clutched her satchel of fabrications.

“We need to move carefully,” Ellie said, looking over at Ralen. “I don’t know what else we’re going to find, but I can feel that something happened here. I’m increasingly becoming aware of this power, and I don’t know if we’re going to be able to stop this. If we can’t, we at least have to free Aliason.”

“We’ll stop them,” Ralen said, his voice hard.

“Why are you so emphatic about that?” Tabitha asked. “What do you know?”

“About what they’re doing here?” He shook his head. “I don’t know anything, but I suspect. I have experience with them and their kind, as they have destroyed other places of power as they seek to control their own type of power. There are places that can be dangerous for them to destroy.”

“This is not about destruction,” Ellie said. “At least, it hasn’t always been.”

When they had battled with Jerath in Buruketh, there had not been the sense that he was trying to destroy anything—not obviously. There had been some deeper purpose, though Ellie wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“Not entirely, not always,” Ralen conceded. “But often enough.”

“If something happens⁠—”

“Nothing will,” he interrupted sharply. Then in a softer tone, he said, “We still have that training to finish.”

“Just training?” Ellie asked.

The question hung between them.

“Whatever you want it to be,” he answered.

She flushed slightly, thankful for the darkness. “Stopping them won’t be easy. It’s just the three of us,” she said. “Unless we can get Aliason.”

She kept moving forward, and Tabitha stayed with her.

“I don’t know if fabrications are going to work,” she said. “Especially if they are doing something similar to what happened before and controlling those creatures.”

“Scout first,” she said.

That was all Dorian would have wanted her to do anyway. Scout, then decide.

As she walked, Ellie found herself with a different rhythm than before, one that surprised her. It was reassuring, and a slightly different kind of connection that left her with a sense of change—a different kind of power.

Yet she wasn’t exactly sure what she was picking up on.

Light bloomed in the distance, and she continued to feel the crackling of that deep power. Then she saw shadowed forms up ahead.

These creatures didn’t look as if they were attacking. Most prowled in the darkness, moving in a steady circuit before bounding away. They would return periodically, then bound away again.

“What is going on with them?” Tabitha asked, her voice soft.

“I have no idea,” Ellie said.

The distant light called to her, and the creatures up there drew her attention, but it was the lone figure up ahead that felt most significant.

Aliason.

“That’s her,” Ellie murmured.

“She’s just standing there?” Tabitha asked.

“I think she’s trapped.”

Ellie kept moving, cycling power, slipping her blades from their sheaths.

Power pushed against her. At first, it was faint, but as it began to intensify, she started to notice that connection, that building power. Some element of it twisted through her, though it was difficult to detect the source.

She moved carefully, continuing to focus on what was up ahead. Tabitha stayed next to her. All around, Ellie still had the sense of creatures moving.

She continued to cycle her ability. She felt a rhythm, a swirling of power, as it began to work up and through her.

“I’m going to ready several fabrications,” Tabitha said. “I don’t know if they’re going to be necessary, but I want to have them ready, nonetheless.”

Ellie nodded. As they moved, she noticed a blur of movement and spun toward it.

It was one of the hounds. It might even be one of the same ones they had dealt with before. There was something off here, though she wasn’t sure what she was feeling.

“I’m going to try to help,” Ellie said softly. “The way that she helped you.”

“You’re talking to them?” Tabitha hissed.

“I don’t know what else to do, and I can’t help but feel as if they understand.”

“You think these creatures understand us?”

“If they are fae, then yes. I think they probably do because they are connected to…” Ellie shrugged.

The hound prowled away.

She tipped her head toward the creature. “See?”

“I still don’t know what you did,” Tabitha said, “but it’s going in my notes.”

Ellie had to get to Aliason. There didn’t seem to be anyone else here, but they could be hiding. She moved carefully toward the woman, noticing the way she swayed in place like before, and felt the slow movement of power around her.

As she neared Aliason, the light around them pulsed, growing more intense. The hounds began to circle more tightly, their movements more agitated.

“Something’s happening,” Tabitha whispered, clutching one of her fabrications.

Ellie could feel it, too—a building pressure in the air, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks. The burning sensation inside her flared in response, no longer just heat but something more—a counterpoint to whatever power was gathering here.

Ralen moved to her side, his face tense with concentration. “They’re opening something. A conduit or a gateway. We have to stop them now.”

“A doorway to what?” Ellie asked, though she already suspected the answer. “And where are they?”

“A doorway to the Sovereign.”

In that moment, the ground beneath them shook. Cracks formed in the stone, radiating outward from where Aliason stood, glowing with an eerie blue light. The woman’s eyes were open now but unseeing, her body rigid as power coursed through her.

Ellie pressed her hand against the ground where Aliason stood. The burning power inside her responded, revealing something unexpected—not just one seal but a network of them, interconnected like a web across the plateau. This was what she’d been feeling.

“Tabitha,” she called over her shoulder. “Can you feel the pattern?”

Her friend moved quickly, pulling out her detection rod. “It’s… overlapping circles. Like multiple protections layered on top of each other.”

“And if one breaks—” Ellie began.

“The others compensate,” Aliason finished, sounding strained. “That’s why he needs me. One alone won’t break the barrier.”

“They’re using Aliason as a conduit?” Tabitha asked, her voice cracking with the realization.

Without thinking, Ellie pushed forward with blades drawn, cycling her power in the rhythm Ralen had taught her, but faster and more intense than before. As she did, the burning energy within her flowed outward, merging with her Blade ability in a way she’d never experienced.

Her blades began to glow with that same burning light—not like the cracks in the ground but a brilliant white that cut through the darkness.

“Ellie, wait!” Ralen called, but she was already moving.

She knew, somehow, that she had to reach Aliason before whatever doorway they were opening could fully form. Because if the Sovereign returned—if even a fraction of that power entered their world—everything would change.

Forever.

Chapter

Thirty

“Why don’t you step away from her,” a voice said out of the darkness.

Ellie nearly jumped. She’d been so worried about Aliason, wondering if there was any way she could help the woman, that she had not been focused on the possibility that there might be someone else hiding.

“Jerath,” Ellie said.

She squeezed the hilts of her blades and continued to focus on how she would cycle power through herself.

“You see it now,” Jerath said, stepping out from the shadows. “This one alone isn’t enough. I need both your powers—Blade and fae-touched—to unravel all three seals simultaneously.”

He wanted her here?

“I am surprised you were able to find us.” he said, sweeping his gaze around. “Although I suppose I should have anticipated you would. You are so easy to manipulate.” He flicked his gaze over to Aliason. “I had not expected you would know this one, though.”

“I’ve met her before,” Ellie said.

His dark smile tightened, and anger rose in her. She wanted to drive her blades into his chest.

“It has been interesting, luring this one to us,” Jerath said. “As we have done with others like her.”

Others?

It occurred to Ellie what he meant. They had been drawing people like Aliason. That might also fit with what Ralen had suggested, that the Servants needed power to complete whatever task they intended to accomplish.

“How many others?” Ellie asked.

“This has been going on for a long time, even before me. It will continue long after me. And you,” Jerath said, smiling still.

“I’m going to free her.”

“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible, not any longer.”

“I’m going to free her,” Ellie repeated.

“I doubt you will. This seals will be broken, and then we will have reached the Sovereign.”

“What kind of seals are they?” Tabitha asked.

Jerath looked over. “The archivist. Of course. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have someone like you in the fold. You can document, even keep records. I might even allow you to serve when this is done.”

“Well, what kind of seals are they?” Tabitha asked, fidgeting with something in her hands. It looked like a pen, but Ellie could tell that it wasn’t the same as other pens she had seen her friend using. This one had a rhythm of power that suggested it was tied to a fabrication.

“It is an ancient protection, a way of closing this world off from another,” he replied.

“Sort of like the gates,” Tabitha said.

“The gates are a way of crossing through.”

“So what?” Ellie asked, her mind churning to make sense of what was happening. “You think you’re going to disrupt some natural boundary between our world and the fae realm?” She snorted. “That will just destroy everything.”

“Or it will restore power that has been stripped away.”

Ellie could feel the trembling, the steady, rhythmic crackling. As she did, she started to question if there was a different approach she needed to take.

Could she counter this?

Not on her own, she knew. She had strength, but this involved a different type of connection than what Ellie possessed.

She needed Aliason.

If she was fae, she would know how to find the song that would shatter their intentions and disrupt them entirely. She was the key.

Around her, Ellie could still feel the creatures, still feel that slow wave of power.

“Ralen,” she said, raising her voice. “I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing, but I need your help. I need to get to Aliason.”

Jerath started to smile. “Unfortunately, he is a little preoccupied.”

That meant there were other Servants around.

She focused on cycling energy through herself, feeling for the rhythm. She needed to find a different sort of connection, a different sort of power. Aliason was swaying in time with the strange rhythm Ellie could feel.

Jerath darted at her, and Ellie hurriedly created a burst of energy out of her blades. It exploded outward, slamming into him, and he stepped back a few paces.

It was the first time she’d ever managed to push him backward.

He regarded her with amusement. “You’ve been working with him.”

“You would be surprised at what I can do now.”

“Perhaps, but I doubt it will be enough.”

The only way she’d stopped him before was with the relic. She wasn’t sure she could do it on her own now, but as she looked around, she started to wonder if she would have to do this alone.

The hounds and other creatures she could scarcely see were making their way closer. Ellie had felt them, but now she could see them moving with a strange sort of rhythm, leaving her with a feeling that was almost raw.

That was odd, but stranger still was the fact that she could feel it in a way she had not felt before.

He moved toward her again, and the hounds lunged.

Jerath spun, suddenly aware of their presence. A wash of dark energy swirled from him and slammed into them.

But the creatures pushed back.

Ellie used the distraction and raced over to Aliason. “Aliason, I need you. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to disrupt what they’re doing to you or how they are using you.”

The earth itself seemed to groan with a deep rhythm.

“I need you to help me stop what he’s doing.”

Aliason still rocked back and forth. She’s moving with that rhythm.

A song.

That was what Aliason had always said to Ellie, that was the way she described her power. Though Ellie had never thought she heard the song—and she still wasn’t entirely sure that she did now—wasn’t what she did somehow tied to that same type of power?

She started to focus on it when Tabitha came jogging over to her.

“He’s not taking too long with them,” her friend said in a cool, detached tone. “I don’t know if it’s going to be very long before he dispatches them.”

“I’m hurrying,” Ellie said.

But what could she do?

Once Jerath freed himself from the creatures’ attack, he would be coming after her. Ellie might have pushed him back a few steps, but stopping him entirely might be beyond her ability. At least at this point.

She needed to disrupt the song because something about it was binding Aliason to this place. How, though?

Ellie might be connected to another power, but she was a Blade first. That was what she had to try now.

She started to cycle, and now she did so with the rhythm that she felt, but she gradually tried to move contrary to it. There was resistance as she began to adjust the frequency, the rhythm, the intensity of her power.

“Here he comes,” Tabitha said.

Ellie rippled that energy outward, creating a wave around her to stop Jerath. It was the only thing she could think of doing. She didn’t have much time, however. He would shatter her protections.

But she needed to help Aliason first.

“I hope you forgive me,” Ellie said softly.

She adjusted the intensity with which she was cycling power and slammed it into Aliason. There was a soft crackle, and the rhythm shifted.

She pushed again, and then Jerath crashed into her. Ellie fell and landed on her back, looking up. Jerath loomed over her.

“You shouldn’t have interfered,” he said, the cold rage in his voice making her skin prickle. “The gateway is already opening.”

Ellie tried to scramble back, but his foot pressed against her chest, pinning her to the ground. She could feel the earth beneath her trembling with increasing intensity, the rhythm now a constant vibration that seemed to resonate in her bones.

The burning power inside her flared in response, surging through her veins with an urgency she hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t just heat anymore—it was something deeper, more primal, like her very essence was recognizing a threat to its existence.

“The Sovereign will not be denied,” Jerath continued, his eyes gleaming with intensity. “Not by you, not by the Arbiters, not by anyone.”

“You don’t understand what you’re unleashing,” Ellie gasped, still struggling against his weight.

In the distance, she heard a sound like shattering glass. Then a blinding light erupted from where Aliason stood, her body rigid now, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream.

The pressure on Ellie’s chest suddenly lifted as Jerath turned toward the light.

She rolled to her feet, blades ready, but even Jerath seemed momentarily forgotten in the face of what was happening. The air began to distort around Aliason, rippling like water disturbed by a stone. Through that distortion, Ellie glimpsed… something.

A vast darkness.

“The Sovereign,” Jerath said.

Something massive and black began to take shape in that distortion—a presence that made the burning inside Ellie scream in warning. She realized Jerath was counting on exactly this—her trying to disrupt him while Aliason remained trapped. Every attack she launched weakened the remaining seals.

“Ellie!” Tabitha’s voice cut through her. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it now!”

“I’m not sure how.”

“I have mapping fabrications,” Tabitha shouted. “If we can redirect the energy flow to that old foundation over there—it’s not connected to the main seal network!”

Ellie looked at her blades, which seemed to be glowing with intense power. The burning sensation inside her reached a fever pitch. “I can complete his pattern—but not where he wants it.”

Instinct took over. Ellie drove forward, channeling every bit of her power—both her Blade ability and this other energy—into her daggers. They began to glow with blinding intensity, cutting through the darkness that was spreading from the gateway.

Jerath spun to face her, but he was too late.

Ellie’s blades struck not at him but at the ground between them and Aliason—right at the center of the rhythm she could feel pulsing from the earth.

The impact sent a shock wave through the entire plateau, and for one terrible moment, everything seemed to freeze.

Then the world erupted into chaos.

Chapter

Thirty-One

“It’s too late,” Jerath said, his voice dark. There was an intensity to his words that Ellie hated, but then again, she hated everything about him.

“Is it?” Ellie asked, cycling her power slowly, feeling it build within her. “Because I can hear it, and I can feel it. Can you?”

She scrambled backward, moving closer and closer to Aliason. When she bumped against Aliason’s legs, she realized the woman no longer swayed as she had before. The rhythm that Ellie had felt—the steady groaning that had been building, the energy that had filled the air—had faded. There was no further sign of it. Ellie didn’t know if there was anything more she needed to do, but she could still feel power lingering around them.

Then she felt something else. A soft whisper started to build around her, answered by a keening sound from behind—the hounds. That was followed by something harsh and violent, echoed by another, and then another.

She glanced over to Jerath. He had stiffened, now looking behind him as if he’d just realized what had happened.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Ellie asked, pushing herself to her feet. “You didn’t succeed.”

The backlash had sent Jerath staggering. He looked at where his power had been redirected, understanding dawning. “No—you’ve made it stronger⁠—”

“And here you thought you were the only Mimic,” Ellie said, breathing heavily. “I just needed to understand what you were trying to copy.”

The shadow hounds and other creatures, now free from Jerath’s influence, turned on him. He inhaled deeply, his face contorting with rage. The shadows gathered around him, coalescing into something darker, more tangible. For a moment, Ellie thought he might lunge at her.

She braced herself, uncertain if she had enough control to disrupt whatever power he might wield. The connection lingered, though, and there was something else within it—a circular pattern of energy she recognized but couldn’t quite place. She could feel it, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.

The whispering of the song around her continued to intensify. The howling of the hounds and the shrieking of the other creatures built with it, creating something awful, deadly, dangerous. The cacophony caused the shadows around Jerath to suddenly disperse.

He regarded Ellie, his eyes narrowing. “This isn’t over,” he said, his voice carrying a dark promise.

“I look forward to it,” she replied, gripping her blades tighter.

He gathered a wisp of shadow around himself, disappearing within it. Ellie felt the sense of him fade and then vanish altogether.

She straightened fully and scanned the area around them. Tabitha stood nearby, staring at the creatures moving steadily around them. They were creating a circle, Ellie realized, forming a buffer that would prevent anything—or anyone—from getting closer to Aliason. The connection to this energy and the power around her was such that she could feel it, but she couldn’t tell much else. That power, that energy, that connection had been working and building and shifting in ways that Ellie couldn’t fully comprehend.

“You did well,” Aliason said, moving beside her. “You listened to it. I thought you didn’t want to learn the song.”

Ellie sheathed her blades. “I wasn’t learning the song. I just listened to the rhythm.”

Aliason’s laugh was melodic and unsettling, yet also reassuring to hear after what she had been through. “You say that as if that is not the song.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You have it within you. I can feel it now. I should have known that from the first time I saw you, but perhaps the other side of you blocked me from knowing it.”

“I have the song?” Ellie asked, frowning.

“A different song than most. There are not others like it in this world.”

“Other Blades have it,” she insisted.

Aliason shook her head slowly. “No, they don’t. Yours is unique. You don’t want to have the same song as everybody else. You want to find your own voice, and you want to sing.”

Ellie searched for any sign of Ralen. Had he been hurt in the attack? She suspected that with Jerath’s escape, the rest of the Servants would go as well. As she created a rippling wave of her connection, allowing it to flow up into her mind, then down through her feet and outward, she noticed that the subtle shift of energy she had been aware of until this point had faded. There was nothing left of it.

The energy signature that had been present all this time had disappeared. And yet, Ellie wanted to try to make better sense of what remained, and she wanted to ensure that whatever Jerath was after would ultimately fail.

“He was trying to weaken seals here,” Ellie said, turning back to Aliason.

“Unfortunately, he did,” Aliason replied, her expression growing serious. “They were weaker, but not broken. He wanted to break them completely.”

“Through you?”

“He would have used me. I felt the buildup of it as he tried, but you came, as did the others.” Aliason looked around at the creatures still circling them. A small smile formed on her lips. “I assumed they would be needed.”

“Did you call them?” Ellie asked.

“I did not, but somebody did.” It seemed to her that she didn’t know what to make of that. Neither did Ellie.

Another mystery. There were many now. Too many for her liking.

“I thought it was Jerath.”

“He would not have been able to call them, and he would not have been able to use them if he had.”

“I don’t know, he’s powerful,” Ellie argued.

“Of course,” Aliason said, nodding, “but he would not have been able to coerce them into doing that. They came for a different reason, but then they were used.” She breathed out slowly. “Perhaps he didn’t know that, or maybe he did. I will have to think about it.”

“So all of this is done now?” Ellie glanced at the creatures still circling them.

The plateau still shook slightly. Though they’d prevented a breakthrough, the seals were strained.

“We bought time,” Aliason said, “but not forever. The network needs proper restoration.”

“Then we’ll need allies,” Ellie said, thinking of Rosark’s offer and her father’s knowledge. “All of them.”

“I must refresh the seals, here and elsewhere.”

“Can you?”

“It is not something beyond my ability.”

“Because of the song,” Ellie said, finally beginning to understand.

“The song is all things,” Aliason replied, her voice taking on a rhythmic quality. “The song weaves through our world, and if you make the effort to listen, you can appreciate how it does.”

“Can I help?” Ellie asked, surprising herself with the question.

“Do you want to learn the song?”

She hesitated, considering the question carefully. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” she eventually said, and for some reason, that felt like the right answer. She didn’t know if she was ready. No longer did she feel like it wasn’t possible.

Increasingly, she couldn’t help but feel as if maybe she could hear and find the song, at least in her own variation of it. Because what was she able to do but feel that pulsing, that rhythmic nature of the song?

“Then I will stay,” Aliason said. “We will see each other again when the song is louder for you. I have seen it.” She turned away and started to sway in the manner she had when she’d been working with the hounds, but there was something else about her movements that Ellie could now feel. It was almost as if she felt the rhythm as it pulsed into the ground, and some aspect of that carried to her in a way that Ellie should have known but, for whatever reason, had only just begun to learn how to feel.

“I don’t even know how to document this,” Tabitha said, approaching her. Her notebook was open, but the pages remained blank. “We have ancient seals designed to separate our world from the fae realm, and he’s trying to destroy them, and you managed to stop that. Do you want to tell me how?”

“I just stopped what he was doing to Aliason. He was trying to sacrifice her,” Ellie explained. “I don’t know that we’ve stopped him entirely, though. I suspect that he’s already succeeded once, or probably more than once.”

Considering what Jerath had said about how it had started before him and would continue after him, Ellie had to believe that was the case.

If so, then what else, if anything, could she do?

She could continue to learn. She might even have to try to find a way to work with the Arbiters. Maybe it was as Ralen had said. Maybe it was time for her to find a different understanding, to learn what she was supposed to be, whether as part of his organization or something else entirely.

Perhaps it was also time for her to understand her father and what he had been involved in. As much as that troubled her, as much as she wondered if that was something she even wanted to be a part of, there was this other aspect of herself that was not typical for a Blade. She felt that now, and she had felt it for a while. In some regards, she figured that Zaren had known it the entire time she had been working with him.

She breathed out slowly. “We can go back, and then we can regroup and figure out what else we need to do. First, we need to see if Ralen is still alive.”

“I’m alive,” Ralen’s voice called, though it came from the other side of the hounds. “Maybe you can see if they’ll listen to you. They aren’t listening to me.”

She approached the circle of creatures cautiously, reaching out with her awareness. She found herself mimicking Aliason’s movements, swaying slightly, feeling for the rhythm that connected her to these creatures. It was there… and all she had to do was push a little power into it.

As she did, a gap appeared in their formation, allowing Ralen to step through.

He looked disheveled, with a cut above his eye and his clothing torn, but otherwise unharmed. “You did it? It’s done?”

“Jerath is gone, and whatever he was trying to break through has been stopped. Aliason is alive,” Ellie said. “So I suppose that’s enough, isn’t it?”

“I wonder if perhaps it isn’t just that it’s enough so much as it is the beginning of something worse.”

Could there be something worse? If so, who else was involved?

“You’ve grown stronger than I imagined,” Ralen said, assessing her power.

“I had a good teacher,” Ellie replied. They stood closer than necessary in the early-morning light.

“There’s still much to learn.” His words and his tone carried a double meaning.

“I look forward to the lessons. I need to know how to do what you do, and I need to find out more about what I can do.”

“We can’t do it here,” Ralen replied, looking across the plateau.

“After we start, I’ll need to find my father again, and I’ll need to speak to the rest of your organization.” Her eyes met his. “And I’m going to need you to help.”

Ralen watched her intently, then his gaze drifted past her to Aliason, who continued to sway in place, communing with the creatures around her. Ellie understood why he watched so carefully. Ralen likely had many questions. She didn’t think Aliason could provide any answers for him, but Ellie understood his concern nonetheless.

The fae were here. Fae creatures were here. There had been an attempt to disrupt the barrier between their worlds.

What else would they find? What other threats lurked beyond their understanding? How much more would she need to learn before she could face them?

In the distance, dawn was breaking over the edge of the cliff, casting long shadows across the plateau. They would need to begin their journey back to Busal City, but Ellie knew that what awaited her there would be different from what she had left behind.

She was different now. The burning power within her had awakened further, and she had glimpsed a world beyond her understanding.

She would need her father’s help, as hard as it might be to admit. He’d left her and her brother, but she’d never been alone. First Zaren had found her, then Dorian and Jos, and now… now perhaps she could claim Tabitha and Ralen. Maybe it was time to let go of the anger she’d felt toward her father and understand what he’d given her.

For years she’d followed Dorian’s path, served because it was expected. Now? Now she’d chosen. Not just to obey—but to shape. Whatever this power was inside her, it didn’t belong to anyone else—not even her father. It was hers to master. Hers to wield. Hers to protect.

If there was one thing she knew, it was that there would be no returning to her old life, not completely. Now she had to find a new rhythm—before the Servants attacked again.

Don’t miss the next book in the series: The Sovereign Key!

The power inside her was never meant to awaken. Now it’s calling her toward a truth no one dares speak.

Ellie thought defeating Jerath at the Temple of Ascendance would bring peace. Instead, it fractured everything. The seal between worlds is damaged, ancient symbols are reappearing, and a rhythm of power pulses through the land—one Ellie alone seems able to hear.

Back in Busal City, nothing is as it was. Fabricators are disappearing. Factions stir beneath the surface. And a strange scholar with too many questions has arrived. Worse, Ellie’s brother has returned, leaving only a cryptic message and a trail of secrets that could reshape the balance of power.

With the Servants of Ascendance gathering strength and the Sovereign’s return looming, Ellie must decide where she belongs: at the king’s side, among the Arbiters, or somewhere entirely new.

But her magic is evolving—and what’s waking inside her may be tied to forces older than fae, older than myth… and far harder to control.

Author’s Note

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for reading The Fractured Legacy. I hope you enjoyed it. If you would be so kind as to take a moment to leave a review on Amazon or elsewhere, I would be very grateful.

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All my best,

D.K. Holmberg

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Series by D.K. Holmberg

The Wayward Chronicles Series

The Queen’s Blade

The Awakened Realm

The Wayward Chronicles

The Executioner’s Song Series

The Executioner’s Song

Blade and Bone

The Chain Breaker Series

The Chain Breaker

The Dark Sorcerer

First of the Blade

The Dragon Rogues

The Storyweaver Saga

The Storyweaver Saga

The Dragonwalkers Series

The Dragonwalker

The Dragon Misfits

Elemental Warrior Series:

Elemental Academy

The Elemental Warrior

The Cloud Warrior Saga

The Endless War

The Dark Ability Series

The Shadow Accords

The Collector Chronicles

The Dark Ability

The Sighted Assassin

The Elder Stones Saga

The Lost Prophecy Series

The Teralin Sword

The Lost Prophecy

The Volatar Saga Series

The Volatar Saga

The Book of Maladies Series

The Book of Maladies

The Lost Garden Series

The Lost Garden