Serel shifted in Vera’s arms as the two of them stepped out into the Ember Gallery at the heart of Sablewatch Hollow. The girl’s head turned this way and that, taking in the polished obsidian tiles and the flickering sconces burning with emberlight.

  Vera let Stillwake vanish from her grasp and swiped an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow, taking a second to steady herself.

  Even when she’d used Hollow Reach to reach the cavern beneath the Marrowvault, she hadn’t needed to expend this much Resonance. Teleporting all the way from the city to Sablewatch Hollow really took a lot out of her. Overall, it was hard to properly gauge how large her reserves were—she wasn’t sure why—but she had a sneaking suspicion that trying that more than a couple more times would have her lying on the floor.

  It was good to know. The Hearthbind Token was the safer way back, whenever it was charged. This time, it hadn’t been, though. And she hadn’t exactly had anywhere better to go at the moment.

  A quick pulse of Mark of the Stillbound Veil told her where Caldrin was. She resummoned Stillwake, traced another invocation, and Hollow Reach brought them across the estate.

  Their feet landed on inlaid stone, a musky tang hanging in the air. A long hall stretched before them, lined with stalls.

  Caldrin knelt a few steps away, sleeves rolled up beneath a heavy brown apron, thick gloves on his hands. He was working a sack of sweet-smelling grain through the slatted gate of one of the stalls, where a regal, moss-veined elk lowered its head with patient dignity to accept the feed.

  A tiny squeal of delight escaped Serel. The elk flicked an ear, turning its solemn eyes toward Vera before dipping its head in what looked like acknowledgment, then returning to watching Caldrin.

  “My lady,” Caldrin said without looking up. “You have returned earlier than expected.”

  “We hit a bit of a snag,” Vera said, setting Serel down on the floor. “Figured it was better to come back before things escalated.”

  “I see. I wondered how long it would take before you sparked an incident.”

  Vera narrowed her eyes. “Really not sure what to think of you immediately assuming I’m the one responsible.”

  He glanced at her. “Were you not?”

  “…Partially,” she admitted after a pause. “I stepped in to defuse things. That’s all.”

  Caldrin closed the feed gate, set the sack neatly aside, and peeled off his gloves. “And the odds that your ‘defusing’ involved an exorbitant display of overwhelming force—sufficient to scatter veteran warriors like children—are…?”

  Vera shot him a singular look. “You know, if that’s what you’re going to assume every time, one of these days, you’ll be wrong. I’m not going to let it go when that happens.”

  He allowed himself a small smile. “So I am right on this occasion. Fortunate for me, though perhaps less so for you, my lady.”

  Vera shook her head. “It wasn’t ‘exorbitant’ in any way, just for the record. I held back a lot.”

  “I’m sure you did.”

  Caldrin’s gaze drifted to Serel, who had wandered up to the elk’s stall, small fingers stretched toward its muzzle. The Verdant Bloomtreader lowered its head without hesitation, nostrils brushing into her palm. Serel giggled. “Hi, Mossy!”

  Vera lingered on the scene a moment, then let her eyes travel down the long hall. The other mounts shifted in their stalls—some drowsing, some chewing feed, some watching with idle curiosity.

  She turned back to Caldrin. “We were having lunch at The Bleeding Chalice when a bunch of city guards came barging in and smashed the door off its hinges. There happened to be a group of Hollowstone Table people there who’d been part of the Chapter-Master’s expedition east. The guards were apparently there to arrest them. It looked pretty suspect considering everything going on, so I ended up stepping in and putting the guards to sleep.”

  Caldrin’s eyebrows rose slightly. “The city guard moving openly against the Table’s people? Unexpected.” A faint line creased his brow as he looked down, thoughtful. “And troubling. Such action would not have been taken without good cause, or a direct order from someone in the Boneward Concord.”

  “It’s looking like the latter.” Vera crossed her arms. “I’m thinking it ties back to whatever’s behind what I found beneath the city. Someone panicked and decided to move fast against those that might cause problems.”

  Caldrin inclined his head. “That is a reasonable assumption.” His eyes lifted back to her. “It would appear your presence may have hastened whatever is unfolding in Marrowfen, my lady.”

  “Maybe.” Vera gave a shrug, though she found herself more annoyed than she’d like to let on. She hadn’t expected her interference to accelerate things this much, or to widen the consequences so widely. This was exactly why she’d wanted to keep her distance. She didn’t have the experience or foresight to tell what all her actions could stir up.

  Though she didn’t have much choice but to suck it up and accept things as they were now.

  She glanced at Serel again as the girl said goodbye to the Bloomtreader and walked further down the hall, greeting each mount like an old friend. She patted noses, waved at sleepy eyes peeking through slats, and chirped little hellos that somehow coaxed grunts or snorts in return.

  Maybe her easy bond with Howl should have clued Vera in, but she hadn’t expected Serel to be this familiar with the mounts.

  It was disarmingly endearing. Even the more aloof creatures seemed to be fond of the girl.

  Seeing a giant, mineral-plated lizard—looking more like a war tank crossed with a rock turtle than anything meant for riding—lumber up to the lip of its stall and slather a tongue coarse enough to strip bark from an oak across Serel’s face was certainly an interesting sight.

  “My lady,” Caldrin said, slipping his gloves off and tucking them in behind the apron. His hands folded neatly behind his back. “I think it would be wise for me to visit Marrowfen myself, to observe the situation more closely. I used to maintain several reliable contacts in the city who may provide some clarity.”

  Vera studied him. “Are you sure?”

  A flicker of amusement touched his mouth. “Quite. Unlike yourself, I am somewhat practiced at discretion.”

  “…Do you want me to start wishing things go bad for you?” she asked flatly.

  “Never,” he replied without hesitation.

  She eyed him, but eventually breathed out and shook her head. “Honestly, I’d appreciate the help. But how do you plan on getting there?”

  “I would, of course, be most grateful if your ladyship could extend your means of travel.”

  She frowned. “…Fine.”

  His smile returned in full. “Thank you, my lady. I will need to make a few preparations, but I shall inform you once I am ready.”

  Vera waved her hand. “Sure, whatever. Just know that if I’m your personal taxi service, I expect a lot less sass for the rest of the day.”

  “'Taxi service’…?” Caldrin echoed, leaning his head slightly to the side. Then he dipped it politely. “If you say so, my lady. As your ever-dutiful servant, I would never dream of offering you… sass.”

  “Sure you wouldn’t.”

  Her gaze slipped past him to Serel again. The girl had stopped by one of the stalls, happily chatting away to the Ironcoil Reeler. Vera wasn’t sure why. Out of all her mounts, it was the only one that wasn’t even sentient.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Caldrin followed her eyes, then turned back. “My lady,” he said after a pause, “did you carry out the Rite of Embercalm?”

  Vera’s expression darkened. “…Yeah. We did.”

  He caught the shift. “Was something wrong?”

  Vera stayed silent for a moment, mouth pressed thin. She unfolded her arms, raised her hand, and activated the Vaultring. To her mild surprise, the locket that had appeared on Serel twice already that day shimmered into her palm.

  “Have you seen this before?” she asked.

  Caldrin squinted at it, studying the velvet casing and silver chain. “I fear not, my lady. What is it?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s tied to Serel somehow. When we performed the Rite, it was… hijacked by another entity. It dragged us into some strange space, and I think it wanted something from her. When we made it back, she had this on her. Even when I took it away, it returned.”

  Caldrin’s brow furrowed deeply. “That is… unnerving.”

  “It is,” Vera agreed.

  “Do you have any idea what entity was responsible?”

  “I do.”

  His gaze sharpened. “Which?”

  Her jaw set. “The Graven Daughter.”

  The man was quiet for several seconds. “…A Forgotten Throne.”

  “Exactly.”

  “That,” he said slowly, “is even more unnerving, if I may say so.”

  “Do you know anything about it?” Vera asked.

  “Not more than you are likely to, regrettably,” Caldrin admitted. “I cannot claim to understand why the Graven Daughter would have any bond to the young miss.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.” Vera sighed.

  Caldrin considered her. “My lady, might it be prudent to reach out to Lady Halstrad? Perhaps she would know more.”

  “I thought of that. But…” Vera hesitated, then shook her head. “I don’t even know if she’s still around. And if she is, her circumstances could be similar to mine. Then there’s no guarantee she’d be able to help.”

  “Ah.” Caldrin’s tone made it clear he understood what she meant immediately.

  Mireya Halstrad. ‘The Last Sung of the Graven Daughter. Wielder of the Silent Bell’, as named on the monument in Marrowfen. One of the ‘Marked Ones’ alongside Vera and Elaria.

  She was the only person Vera knew in this world who might reasonably have a direct tie to this Forgotten Throne in particular.

  But like her, Mireya had been a player.

  That fact alone carried too many uncertainties. Even if Vera found her, it was hard to say what that’d mean.

  She released a breath. “I’ll look into it, but I’m not sure if it’ll amount to anything. For now, I was planning to stay in Sablewatch Hollow until evening. Give Marrowfen time to settle before we return. Think you might have something by then?”

  “That is not much time, my lady,” Caldrin said. “But I will try my utmost.”

  “That’s good enough.” Vera nodded. “I’d hoped to avoid it, but I’m going to need to meet with the Chapter’s Vice-Master too, see how things developed on their end. If you can uncover anything before then, even better.” She rubbed at her temple. “While you’re gone, I’ll dig through the Ashledger Archive. Figure that’s where anything we have on the Graven Daughter would be. You can point me to what I should be looking for, right?”

  “The Archive houses well over ten thousand volumes, my lady.”

  “…Yeah? Your point being?”

  He gave her an almost patient look. “I do not have the entirety of it memorized.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I begin to suspect you may be slightly overestimating my abilities, my lady.”

  “You’re the one always talking them up,” Vera pointed out. “You mean to tell me you can’t memorize a measly ten thousand books?”

  Caldrin regarded her for several long seconds. “…Of course. I suppose that should be the bare minimum when serving an individual as distinguished as yourself. My apologies. Regrettable as it may be, I never cultivated the inclination to commit the Archive to memory as most of my hours were consumed with maintaining the entirety of Sablewatch Hollow on my own. But I shall endeavor to rectify this flaw. I will happily waste what free time remains to me poring over the endless stacks of errant tomes your ladyship has carted home and abandoned in odd corners over the years.”

  Vera met his eyes. “I thought I said no sass.”

  “…My apologies.”

  “I’ll let it go. For now.”

  She turned away, her gaze drifting over the Verdant Bloomtreader as it snorted softly in its stall.

  “…I wonder if Serel wants a pet?” she muttered quietly to herself.

  “…Could you say that again?” Gard asked, a sharp ache pulsing at his temple.

  “The guard seriously tried to snatch us,” the man repeated, his scarred face twisting in a scowl as the words came out more like a growl. “They’ve gone rotten, I tell you. Mad. The whole Concord’s gravesent if they think they can walk over us and we’ll just roll belly-up. Bastards ought to have their tongues cut out and their sigils stamped to ash—”

  He cut off the instant Vanded lifted one broad hand.

  The Chapter-Master sat behind the heavy desk at the far end of his office, looking almost out of place amid the carved shelves and paper-stacked corners. But that veneer of mildness did nothing to lessen the weight in the room. Vanded Blazegrip felt like a storm holding itself at bay, and even Gard could feel the crackle of it waiting to break loose.

  But the man kept his composure.

  “What do you make of this, Gard?” he asked.

  Gard frowned, weighing the question. “…It’s possible our worst fears are true. I assume the Concord’s claims about us breaking the edict are false?”

  “They are.”

  “Then they were likely aiming to hit us while we were unprepared. Using the city guard means the order either came out of this morning’s Concord session, or from High Warden Vaust.” He hesitated. “Given that we can’t confirm whether the High Warden is alive, I think it’s safe to say more of the Concord is compromised than simply a member or two.”

  The Chapter-Master’s expression hardened.

  “Huh? Wait—what about the High Warden? He’s dead?” Elijah blurted, looking between them with open confusion.

  “He’s not,” Vanded grumbled, eyes shifting down as if to count the grain of his desk.

  Gard studied him in silence. He understood that Vanded and Vaust had been close, but sentiment was unlikely to change fact. Unless the High Warden was part of whatever scheme was spreading through the Concord, he would never have stood idle while guards struck at the Chapter. And as a Ninth Binding, there were few ways of neutralizing him other than death. But to manage that within a day, without the city knowing, was… very troubling.

  He turned to Elijah. “You said Caja and the others were hiding. We’ll take half our people and Emberphials to retrieve them and the guards you mentioned. They’re still near the western gate?”

  “Should be, yeah,” Elijah said with a curt nod, scowl snapping back. “I had to duck a couple patrols on my way here, but I doubt they’ve been sniffed out yet. Caja knows those parts.”

  Vanded’s gaze rose, locking onto him. “Tell me about the woman who helped you. You didn’t see her face, but you’re sure she was of the Tenth Binding?”

  Elijah’s scowl eased, and he scratched his jaw. “She’s gotta be. Never seen anyone move like that ‘cept you. And her aura was straight scary.”

  “And you didn’t recognize her?” Vanded pressed.

  He shook his head. “Nah. She was one of ‘em Hollow folk, I’m pretty sure. That’s all I could make out.”

  Vanded’s hand drifted to his chin, thoughtful. “But you said she had a daughter?”

  “The way she bristled when Orvil staggered too close… yeah. Definitely.”

  Gard caught the flick of veins tightening at Vanded’s temple. If not for the current crisis, he knew the man would already be halfway out the door, hunting this woman down.

  To fight her, presumably.

  He was grateful that—for all his tendencies—the Chapter-Master could still set priorities.

  Vanded’s eyes shifted to him. “Is it her, Gard?”

  Gard paused, lips pressed thin. “…Her?”

  “The Channeler who sent the warning. Seems unlikely there’d be two unnamed Kindled of the Tenth Binding in Marrowfen at the same time.”

  “…It could be,” Gard admitted.

  Vanded stayed quiet for a few moments longer. Then he drew in a breath that was felt through the room and pressed both hands flat against the desk. The wood groaned under the weight as he rose and moved past it, clamping a heavy hand on Elijah’s shoulder. His teeth showed in a dangerous grin.

  “Don’t you worry, Elijah, my boy. Just like in the Feast of Ashen Banner, Hollowstone Table doesn’t smile kindly on cowards who strike at us during times of merriment. And if they think they can lay hands on our Chalice—” his voice dropped, “—they’ll learn different.”

  A wide grin spread across Elijah’s face in answer.

  “Chapter-Master,” Gard said, trying to keep his apprehensiveness out of his voice. “What exactly are you suggesting we do?”

  Vanded moved to him, planting another firm hand on his shoulder. “We show them why they have cause to fear our Chapter. The fact that they’ve not dared come where I stand tells us all we need to know about the ones giving orders.”

  “I only ask that you don’t underestimate whoever our opponents might be,” Gard warned.

  “I’m not.” Vanded chuckled. “But I’d like to meet the soul who doesn’t look over their shoulder when facing two Tenth Bindings.”

  “Two…?” Gard’s eyes widened. “You’re assuming the woman who helped at the Chalice will fight with us?”

  “Hmm?” The man blinked at him. “Of course.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s part of our Chapter, isn’t she?”

  Gard stared. “Could it be that you…?”

  “I heard about a lady with a kid putting Han through a wall during a writ duel,” Vanded said with a rough laugh, patting Gard’s shoulder. “Eberhard told me. You already put it together too, didn’t you? You sly dog.”

  Gard stiffened, then let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

  For a second, he’d worried he might be accused of leaking the truth—and he wasn’t sure what someone like her would do then.

  Still, it was far from certain she’d help at this point…

  “Even if she joined the Chapter, that’s no guarantee she’ll turn her blade on the Concord,” Gard said.

  Vanded drew his hand back, considering that. “Hmm. Right you are, I suppose. But she’s given us both a warning and helped our folk at the Chalice. That speaks of valor.” He mulled it over, then suddenly snapped his fingers, a bright grin flashing across his face. The earlier danger surrounding him seemed to have left entirely. “This is why we heed the wisdom of those who came before!”

  He turned to Elijah. “Have Gard help you prepare what’s needed to bring back the others. Then tell them to ready themselves for what’s coming. No guard’ll stand against our Chapter, but you always have to stay careful of what lurks in the shadows.”

  Elijah gave a resolute nod. “Alright, boss.”

  Gard followed Vanded as he opened the door and stepped into the hall. “What about you, Chapter-Master? What do you intend to do? If you’re thinking of storming the Pale Hall before all of us are assembled, I’d strongly urge you to reconsider.”

  “Hah! Tempting, but no. I think not.” Vanded shook his head with the same grin. “No, I’m heading to the vault.”

  “The vault? You mean the Marrowvault?” Gard asked.

  “No, no. The vault! Our vault, naturally.”

  “…Can I ask why?”

  Vanded lifted one thick finger. “Do you know what it was that roused the Bloodsworn Matron to turn the tide at the Hollow Dusk’s Campaign?”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t.”

  The Chapter-Master looked at Gard. “A gift given to her daughter. For there’s no fire fiercer than a mother’s love, they say.”