The ocean did not wait.
It moved.
Far beyond the ruins of the palace, beyond the reach of even the Wardens' vast territory, the currents carried word faster than any messenger ever could. Not in language. Not in symbols.
In pressure.
In pulse.
In instinct.
Something had changed.
And every kingdom beneath the sea felt it.
Aerin felt them before she saw them.
Not one presence.
Not two.
Many.
Approaching from different directions—each distinct, each powerful, each carrying a weight that pressed against the ocean like rival storms converging toward a single point.
"They're already moving," she said, her voice low but certain.
Caelum didn't need to ask who. His gaze had already shifted outward, his posture tightening as he calculated distances, timing, outcomes.
"How many?" he asked.
