Page 46

Varam returns, Mira beside him, and within moments, the chamber becomes a hive of activity.

Mira hands me a pack made from cloth. She’s filled it for me.

Clothes, a waterskin, dried food, and another pouch of Firebloom Resin—the little beads for my teeth.

She speaks too quickly for me to follow, but her tone makes her meaning clear.

Take this. Be ready to move.

Sacha confers with Varam. I keep hearing the same word repeated— Ashenvale —over and over. I don’t know what it means. Just the way it makes my stomach knot.

I shoulder my pack, testing its weight against my spine. It’s not like the backpacks from home. There are no zippers or padded straps, just layered cloth and rawhide, pulled tight across my shoulders. It hangs lower, pulls in unfamiliar places, and heavier than I expected, but manageable.

“Are we taking the sandstriders?” I ask when Sacha finally turns his attention back to me.

“No.” He secures his own pack without looking up. “They are too distinctive. Varam will see they’re returned to the nomads. We’ll travel on foot through the mountain passes.”

The enormity of our situation begins to sink in. We’re about to flee into mountains I’ve never seen, hunted by forces powerful enough to make even these seasoned fighters uneasy. And I still don’t know whether I’m walking beside heroes or fugitives.

"What if we're separated?" The question escapes before I can stop it, revealing more vulnerability than I intended. In this world, I'm functionally mute, barely able to communicate my most basic needs. For all my anger, if I lose him, I lose everything.

Something shifts in Sacha's expression—a brief softening of the hard lines around his eyes, a momentary crack in the mask he wears. His gaze meets mine directly for what feels like the first time in days.

"We won't be." There's a certainty in his voice that touches something inside me, a promise I want desperately to believe.

His hand lifts slightly, then returns to his side.

"But if it happens, Mira included a map in your pack. You’ll find safe settlements marked.

She believes you know enough basic phrases to find direction to local knots. "

“Knots?” It takes me a second to remember what he said about them. People who are part of this … I want to call it a resistance, but I’m not entirely sure if that’s true.

The practicality of his plan should reassure me. Instead, it only emphasizes how utterly dependent I am on him in this world. A fact that chafes against my growing need for some measure of control over my own fate.

“How am I supposed to know who they are?”

“There’s a phrase. Varamek nul’tor . Say it.”

I repeat it back.

“If you’re in trouble, speak it to those who seem sympathetic to outsiders. Anyone bound to the old ways will know it. "

“What does it mean?” I repeat the words in my head, committing them to memory.

“We have waited faithfully.”

It sounds like a vow. A phrase loaded with history I have no idea about.

It’s the first real thing he’s shared with me since we arrived in Ravencross. Not strategy or survival. But a thread to hold if I’m alone.

“About what happened …” I glance toward the fire still burning in the hearth, too high, too hot. Still alive in a way that makes my skin crawl.

“Not now.” His voice is back to its quieter level. “We need to focus on getting out. That conversation can wait until we’re safely away from Ravencross.”

Before I can protest, Varam returns. This time with a woman. Tall and wiry, with a network of scars across her left cheek, she gives Sacha a small bow before speaking.

When she stops, Sacha introduces her.

“This is Tisera. She will lead us through the tunnels beneath Ravencross. They connect to a natural cave system in the foothills, which will allow us to avoid the town, and Authority patrols.”

“There are tunnels?” The revelation that there is yet another layer to this underground network doesn’t surprise me as much as it probably should. It fits. Of course there are.

“This settlement was built upon the remains of a much older city.” He buckles his blade to his hip. “The original builders created passages that have been forgotten by most.”

The woman, Tisera, gives me a measuring look before addressing Sacha. Whatever she says makes him glance my way before responding.

“What did she say?”

“She wanted to know if you will be able to keep up. She says you look too fragile for the Veinwardens. The tunnels are challenging. Narrow in places, partially flooded in others.”

“And what did you tell her?”

One corner of his mouth tips up. “That you’re stronger than you look.”

The unexpected comment surprises me.

Is that how he sees me? Or is it simply what Tisera needed to hear to accept my presence on this journey?

Either way, it catches me off guard. And I don’t know what to do with it.

Mira touches my arm, pulling my attention away from him. She’s holding a small packet wrapped in waxed cloth. Pressing it into my hands, she speaks rapidly. I look at Sacha.

“Medicinal herbs. For fever, pain, and to purify questionable water. She says to keep them dry and only use them if necessary.”

I smile at her. “ Narem .”

She beams at my attempt to say thank you, and pulls me into a hug. I stiffen at first, startled, but then let myself return it. When she draws back, she presses her palms to my cheeks.

“ Berath et sharem. ”

“She wants you to be careful, and stay safe.”

“ Narem, Mira.” I force the words past the lump forming in my throat. This woman has shown me more kindness in the past couple of days than I could ever have imagined. Her small kindnesses have been constant since we arrived—language lessons, proper clothing, now medicines for the journey ahead.

She pats my cheek, and nods, stepping back. I tuck the packet into a pocket of my tunic.

Varam signals that it’s time to depart, and Tisera moves to the far wall and presses against a stone block.

A section of the wall slides inward with a grating sound, revealing a narrow passage behind it.

She lights a small lamp and disappears into the dark without a word, clearly expecting us to follow.

Sacha gestures for me to go next. “Stay close to Tisera. I’ll be right behind you.”

I hesitate at the threshold, one hand braced against the rough stone edge. Despite my frustration with Sacha's secrecy and the anger still smoldering beneath my fear, this chamber has offered a strange kind of safety. A place to catch my breath. After the desert. After the tower. After all of it.

Beyond this hidden door lies a world actively hunting the man behind me, a world filled with people who want him caged or dead. And a world where I still don’t belong.

"Ellie." My name in Sacha's voice pulls me back to the present. It's softer than I expect, almost gentle. When I glance over my shoulder, his expression is unreadable in the shadows, but there's tension in the line of his jaw. "We need to move."

I take a deep breath that tastes of dust and secrets, then step into the passage. The darkness closes around me, pressing against my skin like something alive. Tisera's lamp wavers ahead, casting just enough light to prevent me from colliding with the walls.

The air grows heavy with the scent of damp stone and earth that hasn't seen sunlight in centuries.

"Stay close," Sacha murmurs behind me, his breath warm against my ear, startling me with how near he is. I hadn't realized he was that close.

He says something to Varam, words I can't understand but recognize the cadence of farewell. Then the stone door slides shut, sealing us inside this underground vein of darkness.

Whatever waits ahead, there's no going back.