The next morning, Lina struggled to stay awake. Something heavier than exhaustion nestled in her chest.
Dull gray light spilled through the grimy windows, catching the dust drifting in the air. The smell of burnt wood and stale mead clung to the low rafters, heavy enough to taste. People moved through the inn in a practiced rhythm, boots thudding against the floor as they cleared away the remnants of the night.
Hushed voices mingled with the clatter of bowls. Lina's thoughts drifted; she felt only half-present. Every familiar sound set her on edge, her skin prickling with a quiet, persistent tension. The ease of the night before was fading.
"It wasn't alive," someone muttered.
"Did you hear? They said the armor didn't fail."
Sofia stared into her stew, her spoon resting absently against her lips as she listened.
"I heard nothing stopped it. They had to burn the body, armor and all."
Lina leaned back and pulled the blanket higher, hiding the lower half of her face.
"The necromancer reanimated a sentinel."
"That's not possible."
"Walked straight into a council meeting."
"No one stopped him?"
A pause followed.
"Stabbed clean through the Minister of War Magic."
A choked gasp came from a nearby table.
"They tied the sentinel down and burned him. Only way to stop it."
Sofia's spoon clattered against the table.
"That shouldn't be possible," she said quietly. "Sentinel armor stops all magic. How could a necromancer reanimate one?"
"Killed him before the armor was sealed," Galdreth offered.
"They can't remove it." Sofia shook her head. "It's bound to them. Only the mage tower can break that seal. Hell, sentinels can't even be killed with normal weapons."
"It might be safer to head closer to the capital," Fin said.
Sofia looked up sharply. "That happened in the capital."
Silence settled over their table. Fin exhaled and shifted on the bench.
"Sofia. Where are your friends?"
"Friends?" Her expression tightened.
"The ones you said I should meet."
She stirred her stew slowly. "North. Near the mountains."
Fin grunted.
Galdreth finished his soup in a few quick swallows. "Are you sure that's where you want to go? We've stayed out of the war this long."
"Where else would we go?" Fin asked. "The nobles of Eryndor can't protect us. They can't even protect themselves."
"Why can't we go to Avelis?" Lina asked.
Sofia choked and coughed into her sleeve.
"And ask the devil himself to keep us safe?"
"Devil?"
"Do you want to spend your life as a corpse?"
"I thought he only killed soldiers."
Sofia let out a sharp, humorless breath. "Did you not hear what he did to that sentinel? Or the minister?" She leaned forward. "This is war, Lina. Do you think they'd believe retired Eryndorian soldiers just want to live quietly in Avelis?"
Fin nudged her shoulder.
Sofia glanced at him, then straightened. "We're going to the mountains."
"Why?"
"Somewhere we'll be safe. Away from Avelis. Away from Eryndorian nobles."
Where would be safe?
Rebels, Raithe answered.
The word slipped into her thoughts as easily as breath.
Would that be safe?
It depends.
On what?
Whether they're hiding or amassing an army.
Lina shivered.
"Our bags are already tied to the horses," Galdreth said.
Fin clapped him on the back and headed toward the stables. Sofia rose more slowly.
"Foolish," she muttered. Her gaze settled on Lina. "You shouldn't need to lose someone you care about to fear magic like that."
Lina's mouth tightened.
I've already lost most of the people I care about.
Sofia turned away, and Galdreth followed.
The noise of the inn faded as Lina stepped outside. The others waited near the stables, reins in hand. Galdreth passed her Chewy's without touching her.
They led the horses through the small market, looking for space to mount beyond the stalls. Around them, the town stirred uneasily. People stood in tight clusters, whispering behind raised hands. No one laughed. Those walking alone hurried past.
Lina kept her gaze forward until they reached the edge of town. Through the trees, she could see the clearing where she'd met Raithe.
The pull in her chest was gone.
She slowed without meaning to. Its absence pressed harder than the ache had, and she looked toward the cold remains of the fire.
Her foot caught a loose stone. She stumbled, throwing out a hand to catch herself. Pain flared across her palm.
"Lina?" Fin called.
"I'm fine."
She pushed herself upright and brushed the dirt from her knees. Blood streaked her palm. She wiped it against her dress, then stopped.
There was no wound.
Her breath caught. She turned her hand toward the gray morning light, searching beneath the dirt.
The chill settling into her bones had nothing to do with the air.