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My pulse quickens. We’re really doing this, then. Walking into the heart of the Authority, the ones who imprisoned him for decades, that hunts people like him … like me, maybe.

I study the papers, wondering how I’ll pass for someone who belongs in this world when I can barely speak the language.

“What if someone asks me something directly?”

“Authority officers rarely address servants and lower ranks, unless they’re barking orders. Keep your head down, your responses minimal, and no one should look too closely.”

His words aren’t all that reassuring, but I nod anyway. This plan, like every other since I arrived, is going to require adaptation and trust. I’ve become surprisingly good at both.

Our small group moves through a passage I haven’t seen before, winding upward rather than deeper into the mountain. The air grows cooler, fresher, suggesting we’re approaching the surface.

“This exit isn’t used often,” Sacha tells me as we climb. “It leads directly onto paths that are too dangerous for everyday use.”

“Dangerous how?”

“Unstable ground. Rockslides. Predators that keep most travelersaway.” His expression suggests these hazards concern him less than Authority patrols might. “For those who know the safe routes, it provides valuable access.”

The passage ends at what appears to be solid rock until Varam presses his hand against a specific section. The stone shifts, revealing a narrow opening, barely wide enough for one person to push through at a time. Cold mountain air rushes in, carrying the scent of pine and morning dew.

We emerge onto a rocky ledge overlooking dense forest. Stonehaven’s entrance blends in perfectly with the surrounding stone, invisible unless you know where to look. The sky above shows the first hints of dawn, a faint lightening along the eastern horizon, with stars still visible overhead.

“Meresh,” Varam whispers, heading toward a barely visible path that winds downward through the rocks.

The descent is just as dangerous as Sacha warned, with loose stones giving way underfoot, and the path sometimes narrowing to mere inches along sheer drops. I focus on placing each foot carefully. Behind me, Mira moves with the silent grace of someone who has walked these paths many times before.

By the time we reach the tree line, the sun is high in the sky. Varam leads us along what barely qualifies as a trail, weaving between ancient trees whose branches form a dense canopy overhead. The others move silently, making me acutely aware of each twig I accidentally snap underfoot.

Mira taps my arm, and points down at her feet. When she’s sure I’m paying attention, she moves in front of me, exaggerating herfootsteps. I follow her, adjusting my weight the way she shows. When I manage to go more than a few feet without making any noise, her small approving nod sends a warm glow of triumph through me.

“There’s water ahead. We’ll stop there and rest.” Sacha points between the trees, where I catch a glint of sun on water.

A small stream cuts across our path, water flowing swift and clear over smooth stones. While the others refill water skins, I stretch muscles already protesting from the challenging walk.

Sacha kneels by the bank a few feet away, rinsing his hands in the cold water. Varam crouches beside him for a moment, murmuring something too low for me to catch. Whatever he says makes Sacha huff a breath that almost …almost… could have been a laugh. Their ease together is like another language, one of shared battles and unspoken loyalty.

I reach down for the waterskin tucked into my belt and open it. By the time I look up again, Sacha and Varam have disappeared out of sight.

“The forest thins beyond the next ridge.” His voice comes from behind me. I spin around, heart racing at how he managed to reach me without any noise at all. “From there, we follow the river valley. Tonight, we’ll camp in the Veil Mists. There’s a constant natural fog there that will provide excellent cover.”

The Veil Mists. It sounds otherworldly and beautiful.

I crouch to fill my waterskin, looking up at him while the cool water rushes into it. He’s so close I can feel the warmth of him, even through the chill in the air.

“How does it feel? Wearing their uniform?” Unlike the rest ofus, Sacha and Varam are already wearing Authority-issue uniforms, in case any patrols stop us.

Darkness coats his eyes for a second, before receding. “Practical. Necessary.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

His eyes meet mine, his head tilting. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to answer me.

“It feels like wearing the skin of an enemy.” His voice is soft.

His honesty surprises me, but before I can respond, Varam signals that it’s time to move again.

We walk on with minimal conversation, our attention focused on moving as quietly as possible. The forest gradually changes, the trees growing larger, their trunks thick with age, and roots twisting over the ground in tangled webs that seem purposely placed to trip unwary feet.

The canopy above our head filters sunlight into shifting patches on the forest floor, making the shadows move in ways that draw my eye to Sacha.