"Our reach has grown," Elowen said, her voice thoughtful but calm. "You can see it above ground—in the clean smell of new paint, in the signed contracts, in the endless permits that keep arriving stamped and sealed.
And below ground, it shows in the handshakes that never happen under sunlight. Every step forward pulls a little resistance with it, like a tide pulls driftwood when it moves.
And we're seeing more of that drift now. Old petitions are written in fonts that are so old they creak when you read them.
New threats written in slang that try too hard to sound brave. Small gods from small corners stretching their arms because they've heard that something larger has been moving quietly in the dark."
Lilith's tone cooled a touch, but it never lost its balance. "And the older houses have noticed," she said.
