That night, Caelum prepared in silence. His sword, Mourndusk, had been left in the armory. Or so he thought.
When he arrived, the racks were untouched—except his blade was gone.
Panic rose in his throat.
"No," he muttered, searching the walls, the corners, the floor. "No, no—where—"
A cold realization struck him.
Virellan.
Of course he wouldn't let him return armed.
Without Mourndusk, Caelum wouldn't survive long in the Maw. The beasts within didn't fear armor. Only magic. Only that blade. He couldn't risk it like the first time.
He leaned against the wall, breath shallow.
"She said you'd come here."
Caelum turned.
There she was.
The girl from the reef—the one who had tried to warn him before. She held something wrapped in deep blue cloth.
"I saw him take it," she said. "He kept it hidden in his quarters. I… I snuck in and took it back."
She unwrapped it.
Mourndusk. Gleaming, pulsing faintly with light. His hand found the hilt before he even spoke.
"Why are you helping me?" he asked.
She looked down. "Because no one else is. Also, find my twin sister."
He almost thanked her—but the pearl in his pocket pulsed again. Weak. Urgent.
He nodded once. "I'll bring them back."