The next morning came cold and gray. A thin mist clung to the ground, seeping through the cracks in the bunker's walls. Shen sat at the table, staring at the photograph he had found in his father's notebook. The image was faded, creased down the middle. Two men stood in front of a dark opening in a rock face. Water dripped from the ceiling of the cave. One man was his father, younger, thinner, a rope coiled over his shoulder. The other was older, with a thick beard and a scar on his forehead. On the back, in his father's handwriting: Old Sea. Help me keep the secret.
Shen turned the photo over and over, as if a different angle might reveal something new. His father had kept this hidden between the pages, never mentioned it. Why? What was the secret?
"Who is that?" Jiang asked, looking over his shoulder. She had been awake for an hour, reading her alchemy notes, but she had noticed his silence.
"I don't know. But the name on the back is 'Old Sea.' If he's still alive, he might be on the docks. We should find him."
Lin was already at the door, her sword on her belt. She had slept little, her hand never far from the hilt. "I'll go with Jiang to the black market. You and Su Wanting check the docks. Qiang stays here."
Qiang didn't argue. He moved to the window and peered out through the gap in the boards. "No one outside. Yet." His mechanical arm hung at his side, the fingers curled slightly, ready.
Su Wanting stood. She had been sitting in the corner, her notebook open, but she closed it and slipped it into her pocket. "I'm ready."
---
The black market was quieter in the morning. Fewer stalls were open, and the tunnels smelled of damp stone and old smoke. The oil lamps had burned low overnight, and the shadows were long. Jiang led Lin through the maze of passages, her footsteps echoing on the wet stone.
"Do you think Ye Hongyu will know anything?" Lin asked.
"She knows more than she says," Jiang replied. "That's how she stays alive."
They reached Ye Hongyu's corner. She was stacking glass jars on her shelf, her back to them. When she heard their footsteps, she turned. Her smile faded when she saw the fresh bandage on Lin's arm.
"You again. And you brought trouble." She set down a jar. "What happened?"
"Dark Hand," Jiang said. "They're looking for something. A black stone from the Sunken Ruins. Shen's father promised it to them. Now they want it from him. We need to find it. Fast."
Ye Hongyu's eyes narrowed. "The Sunken Ruins. That place is a death trap. I've heard rumors about that stone—it's supposed to open something, a door or a lock. But I don't have it, and I don't know where it is." She paused, thinking. "There's an old diver who lives on the docks. They call him Old Sea. He's been in the Sunken Ruins. He might know something."
"Where can we find him?" Lin asked.
"Down by the wharf. The rusty boat with the yellow mast. Can't miss it." Ye Hongyu glanced around, then lowered her voice. "Watch your backs. There's been people asking about that stone. Not just Dark Hand. Someone else. I don't know who, but they're not friendly."
Jiang nodded. "Thanks."
As they left the stall, Lin glanced back. Two men in dark coats were standing near a spice stall, pretending to browse spices. Their eyes followed Jiang and Lin with cold intensity.
"We're being followed," Lin said quietly.
"I know. Keep walking."
They turned into a narrow side tunnel, away from the main thoroughfare. The footsteps behind them quickened. Lin stopped, drew her sword, and waited.
The two men rounded the corner. They saw the blade and hesitated. One reached for a knife tucked into his belt.
Lin moved. She swept the knife from his hand with a flick of her blade, then struck his wrist with the flat of the sword. He cried out and stumbled back, clutching his arm. The other man swung a metal pipe. Lin sidestepped, let the pipe whistle past her ear, and kicked his knee. He fell hard, his head cracking against the stone floor.
The first man ran, disappearing into the darkness.
Lin's arm throbbed. The bandage had come loose, and a thin line of blood seeped through the cloth. She sheathed her sword and pressed her hand to the wound.
"Let me see." Jiang pulled out the hemostatic paste from her bag. She uncorked the small ceramic box, scooped out a dab of the dark green ointment, and spread it over the cut. The bleeding slowed immediately. She wrapped a fresh bandage around Lin's arm. "It's shallow. You'll be fine."
Lin flexed her fingers. The pain was dull now. "They were Dark Hand?"
"Probably. Or someone working for them. They'll report back." Jiang finished the bandage and stood. "We need to move faster. If they know where we're going, they might get there first."
---
Before leaving the bunker, Su Wanting had stepped into the corner and pressed her communicator. She spoke in a low voice, too quiet for Shen to hear. After a minute, she returned, her face unreadable.
"The Door Court has records of the Sunken Ruins," she said. "A team brought out a black stone years ago. They all died afterward. The stone appeared on the black market once, then vanished."
Shen looked at her. "Anything else? Who bought it?"
"No. The buyer was never identified." She closed her notebook. "That's all I have."
They walked toward the docks. The air smelled of fish and salt. Rusty boats bobbed in the gray water, their hulls covered in barnacles. Seagulls circled overhead, crying out in sharp, hungry voices.
Su Wanting spoke first. "Your father's debt isn't my problem."
"I know."
"But I'll help you find this diver. If the stone is connected to the Nine Doors, the Court will want to know." She paused. "And if it's not, then at least I'll have a record of what happened."
Shen stopped. "Is that all you care about? Information?"
Su Wanting met his gaze. Her eyes were calm, unreadable. "It's my job. I don't have the luxury of caring."
They walked in silence until they reached a boat with a yellow mast. It was old, paint peeling, the deck cluttered with ropes and diving gear. A rusty anchor lay on the dock beside it. An old man sat on a crate, mending a net with thick, calloused fingers. His hands were gnarled, his face weathered by years of salt and sun. A scar ran across his forehead, pale and old.
"Old Sea?" Shen asked.
The man looked up. His eyes were sharp, despite his age. "Who's asking?"
"Shen Wei's son."
The old man's hands stopped moving. He studied Shen's face for a long time, his eyes moving from his eyes to his jaw to the set of his shoulders. "You look like him. Thinner. Harder." He set down the net. "What do you want?"
"My father promised the Dark Hand a black stone from the Sunken Ruins. He died before he could deliver. Now they want it from me. I need to find it."
Old Sea spat into the water. The spittle floated on the gray surface for a moment, then sank. "Dark Hand. Bunch of leeches. Your father was a fool to take their money." He stood, wincing as his knees cracked. "I went into those ruins with him. Once. Never again. The stone—we found it. Third level, east side, in a stone coffin. It was black, smooth, with lines that seemed to move when you looked at them. Your father took it. Said he'd keep it safe."
"Where is it now?"
Old Sea shrugged. "I don't know. After we came back, he disappeared. I figured he sold it or hid it. But he told me once, 'If anything happens, look in the old place.' That's all he said. Wouldn't tell me what 'the old place' meant."
"What old place? His workshop? His house?"
"He didn't say. Maybe his old workshop. Maybe somewhere else." Old Sea sat back down, his joints creaking. "That's all I know. Now leave me alone. I don't want trouble with Dark Hand or anyone else."
Shen pulled out the photograph. "This was taken at the ruins?"
Old Sea glanced at it, then looked away. "Yes. That's me. That's him. That's the entrance." He waved a hand dismissively. "Go. I've said enough."
Shen put the photo away. "Thank you."
As they walked back, Su Wanting spoke. "Old Sea mentioned 'the old place.' Your father had a workshop, didn't he?"
"It was destroyed years ago. Nothing left."
"Maybe he meant somewhere else. Somewhere only he knew." She pulled out her notebook and wrote something down. "I'll check the Court's records for any property your father owned."
Shen didn't answer. He was already thinking about the notebook, the torn page, the faint mark.
---
Back at the bunker, the team gathered around the table. Jiang and Lin told their story about the black market and the men who had followed them. Shen and Su Wanting told theirs.
"Old Sea said my father hid the stone somewhere," Shen said. "He mentioned 'the old place.' But he didn't say where."
Lin spoke. "Your father had a workshop before he died. Did you check there?"
"It was destroyed years ago. I went there after he disappeared. Nothing left but ashes."
Jiang thought for a moment. "What about the place where you first got your mark? The riverbank?"
Shen shook his head. "I've been there many times. Nothing."
Su Wanting opened her notebook. "Your father's notebook—the one with the torn page. Maybe the missing part was the clue. Do you remember what was on the other side?"
Shen pulled out the notebook and flipped to the torn page. He examined the ragged edge under the lamplight. "There's a faint mark here. A shape." He held it up closer. "It looks like a circle with a line through it."
Jiang leaned over his shoulder. "That could be a well. Or a drain. Or a tunnel entrance." She straightened. "There's an old well in the south district. Abandoned for years. I've seen it on old maps. People say it connects to the old drainage system, but no one goes down there."
Qiang, who had been silent, nodded. "I've heard of it. No one goes there because it's dangerous. The walls are unstable, and the water is deep."
Shen stood. "We go tonight. Before Dark Hand finds out. If the stone is there, we take it. If not, we keep looking."
---
The sun was already setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and red. Lin sharpened her sword one last time, running the whetstone along the blade in long, slow strokes. The sound was steady, almost meditative. Jiang packed medicine into a small bag—hemostatic paste, pain pills, antidote. She counted each item twice.
Qiang checked his mechanical arm, flexing the fingers, rotating the wrist. The joints moved smoothly, but he tapped a loose screw back into place with a small tool. Su Wanting wrote in her notebook, then slipped it into her pocket. She checked her pistol, making sure it was loaded.
Shen stood by the window, looking out at the darkening street. The photograph was still in his hand. His father's face stared back at him, young and hopeful. The man beside him, Old Sea, looked wary, as if he already knew the danger they were walking into.
"Let's go," Shen said.
He tucked the photo into his pocket and picked up his bone hook. The metal was cold against his palm.
They left the bunker and walked into the dark. The street was empty. The only sounds were their footsteps and the distant hum of the city.
Lin walked beside Shen, her hand on her sword. Jiang followed close behind. Qiang brought up the rear, his mechanical arm catching the faint light from a distant window. Su Wanting walked slightly apart, her eyes scanning the shadows.
No one spoke. The silence was heavy, but it was not empty.