The night deepened, stretching its ink-stained fingers across Velmora. The Veil District pulsed with life—laughter spilling from taverns, the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine lingering in the air. But Aidana had long since learned that a city was never louder than when it was trying to distract itself from the rot beneath its foundation.

Cassian and Lys led her through the winding alleys with the ease of those who had memorized every brick and shadow. They did not ask where she was going. They simply moved, fluid and unbothered, as if fate itself had already decided they would walk together for now.

The thought unsettled her.

She did not trust fate.

Did not trust how the Seer's words had carved themselves into her mind, whispering of bonds that should not be.

Her fingers twitched at her side. The weight of her power sat cold against her skin. She had taken a soul today. She should have left Velmora, returned to the realm of whispers and waiting. And yet, here she was—among thieves, walking through a city she had no business lingering in.

That, more than anything, put her on edge.

Cassian glanced at her, catching her in her silence. "You always this quiet?"

"I speak when there's something worth saying," she replied.

Lys snickered. "So you're saying Cassian talks too much?"

"She didn't say that," Cassian protested.

"She didn't have to," Lys grinned.

Aidana huffed. It was not quite amusement, not quite exasperation. The two were a strange pair—dangerous, but light in a way that made the weight of her own existence feel heavier in comparison.

They turned a corner, emerging into a quieter part of the district. The buildings here were older, their stone foundations worn from centuries of wind and rain. Lanterns swung from iron hooks, their flickering glow casting uneven shadows.

It was here that Cassian stopped.

"Welcome to the Hollow," he said, gesturing toward a two-story building wedged between an apothecary and what looked to be an abandoned tailor's shop. The sign above the door had long since lost its name, its wood cracked with age.

"A tavern?" Aidana asked, unimpressed.

Lys shrugged. "Technically. But it's also the safest place in the city for people who don't want to be found."

Cassian pushed open the door.

The scent of burning wood and old books greeted them. Inside, the Hollow was dimly lit, its walls lined with shelves filled with an odd assortment of trinkets—carved figurines, rusted coins, bottles of unknown substances. There were tables scattered throughout the space, some occupied by cloaked figures hunched over quiet conversations.

Behind the counter, an older woman wiped down a glass with slow, practiced motions. Her skin was dark, her hair streaked with silver, pulled back into a braid that fell over one shoulder. She had the air of someone who had seen too much and learned not to flinch.

Her gaze flickered to Aidana. "New face."

"Temporary," Aidana answered.

The woman's lips twitched. "They always say that."

Cassian leaned against the bar. "Be kind, Mara. She's had a long day."

Mara snorted. "And yet she's still alive, which means it wasn't long enough."

Lys grinned. "This is why I love you, Mara."

Mara gave her a flat look. "No, you love me because I don't throw you out when you bring trouble to my doorstep."

Lys placed a hand over her heart. "That too."

Aidana took in the space, listening. The conversations here were quiet, the kind that held secrets between syllables. Some of these people were mercenaries. Others were spies, messengers, exiles. But all of them had one thing in common: they did not belong in the world above.

"You trust them?" Aidana asked, tilting her head toward the room.

Cassian's grin was sharp. "I trust that they want to stay alive as much as I do. That's usually enough."

She hummed, unconvinced.

Mara eyed Aidana for a long moment before setting the glass aside. "Whatever business you have in Velmora, you won't find answers in the palace."

Aidana met her gaze. "And where will I find them?"

Mara leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping just enough that only Aidana could hear.

"In the places no one dares to look."

There was something in her tone, something knowing. Aidana had spent centuries walking between the living and the dead, and yet, in this moment, it was she who felt watched.

Cassian clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. "Well, I don't know about you, but I need a drink."

"You're always drinking," Lys said.

"And yet, I'm still charming," he shot back.

Aidana let their voices fade into the background, her thoughts drifting elsewhere.

She could leave. She should leave.

And yet.

The Seer's words clawed at her mind. The weight of unseen threads pulled her forward.