"What?" Satou said.
"Nothing," they said together, in the exact same tone.
He looked between them. "That was synchronized in a way that means something."
"It means nothing yet," Jessica said firmly. "We wait for Morgana."
—---------------
Morgana arrived thirty minutes later.
She came through a portal that opened in the settlement's outer courtyard—a controlled, precise magical transit that spoke of extremely refined skill. Satou met her at the gate.
He'd met Morgana twice before. She was Loki's most powerful mage, the keystone of his kingdom's magical defenses, and she looked entirely unlike what that description suggested. Small, grey-haired, with the kind of face that had been sharp in youth and become elegant through age. She wore practical travel robes and carried a single staff that was less ceremonial and more genuinely functional—the tool of someone who used magic constantly rather than performing it.
Her eyes were the giveaway. Old magic in them, deep and patient.
