The sky outside the broken stone ceiling was starting to pale—bruised purple bleeding into washed-out blue. Dawn was creeping closer. The hour Nyx had promised.
I sat there for as long as I dared, holding Robin close, committing every tiny detail of her to memory—the way she breathed, the warmth of her hands, the way she curled against me like I was the only thing she trusted left in the world.
When she finally dozed off, small and trembling in her sleep, I knew it was time.
Carefully, I eased her down onto the softest patch of cloth I could find, pulling my shredded cloak over her like a blanket. I hesitated—fingers curling into fists—then leaned down and pressed my lips to her forehead.
"I'll come back," I whispered so softly it nearly broke me.
I stood, my legs stiff and heavy, and slipped out of the ruins without looking back. Because if I did… I knew I'd never be able to leave.
~×~×~×
Hotaru's streets were eerily still in the pre-dawn hush. Fewer people now. Only the distant murmur of dock workers and the occasional flicker of lanternlight from shuttered windows.
I moved like a shadow, sticking to the alleys I knew, until I reached the same ivy-covered wall near the dead-end passage. The hidden stone door sat ajar, faint light spilling from the crack like a silent invitation.
She was waiting for me, just inside.
Nyx stood alone at the table, leaning over the map again, hands braced on either side like she hadn't moved all night. She didn't look up when I entered. She didn't need to.
I took a slow breath and crossed the space between us until I stood across the table from her again.
Her lips twitched—barely.
"Tell me you're ready to bite back, little mouse."
I met her eyes without flinching.
"I'm ready."
Nyx's grin didn't widen, but I saw the sharp glint of approval in her eyes as she straightened. She reached down and tugged the old map closer, her fingers tracing the marked pathways again.
"Alright. Listen carefully—this is how it goes down."
She jabbed a finger toward the outer edge of the tunnels.
"Entrance is here. The Fisherman's Hollow. Looks abandoned from the outside, but it's a front—one guard on the surface, two just inside. We've got someone slipping in through the sea vents an hour before the auction starts to take care of them."
Her hand shifted toward the center of the network.
"You'll enter here, through the side shaft we've dug out over the past few weeks. It leads into a maintenance corridor that runs along the outer wall of the auction chamber."
She circled a narrow passage that forked toward a loading dock.
"There's a breaker box near the power lines. You hit it—kill the lights, kill the sound system. That'll make the buyers panic."
Her hand slid further, tapping a pressure point marked near the auction floor.
"Once the lights are down, you trigger the breach alarm here. Big, obvious, loud. Guards'll flood the north corridor, leaving the cells and buyers exposed. While they're chasing you—" she leaned back, crossing her arms, "—we open the cages and torch the records."
I swallowed, forcing myself to memorize every detail.
Nyx's expression turned more serious, almost unreadable. "After that, you run. Head back toward the outer tunnel. We'll leave a mark—white chalk, right side of the wall. Follow it. It'll lead you back to the sea vent where one of mine will pull you and your sister out."
She locked eyes with me then, voice low and razor-sharp.
"You don't stop. You don't look back. If you hesitate, you're dead."
I nodded slowly, every breath in my chest heavier than the last. I could already feel the noose tightening. But I couldn't back down now.
Nyx pushed the map toward me, tapping it twice. "You move on my signal. Got it?"
I met her gaze and gave a single, steady nod.
"Got it."
The world outside had begun to stir when Nyx gave the order to move. No grand speeches. No rallying cries. Just the cold efficiency of people who'd done this before.
I followed Nyx and two of her crew through the thinning alleys toward the southern cliffs, keeping my head low, my breath shallow. The sky was cracked open with pale light, streaks of red and gold cutting through the mist rising off the sea.
Fisherman's Hollow loomed ahead—just as she'd described. A crooked shack leaning against the rocky wall, seaweed curling around its posts like skeletal fingers. From the outside, it looked like it had been abandoned for years. A perfect lie.
Nyx didn't slow as she led me toward a narrow gap in the rock wall just past the shack. She crouched, pulling aside a frayed tarp and revealing a crude tunnel dug into the stone.
"This is as far as I go," she murmured without looking back. "You know the marks. Follow them after you hit the alarm, or don't bother coming back."
I swallowed hard, my throat dry as dust. "And if you're lying?"
Nyx smirked faintly. "Then you'll die pissed off. Either way, saves me the trouble."
I wanted to hate her. But part of me knew she wasn't lying. Not about this.
I gave her one last sharp nod, then ducked into the tunnel alone.
---
The air inside was damp and thick, heavy with the scent of salt and mold. The path sloped downward sharply, every step echoing in my ears louder than I liked.
I followed the narrow tunnel until the rough stone walls gave way to older, reinforced passages—rusted support beams, faint flickers of light seeping through iron-grated vents above me.
I crouched low, inching toward the maintenance corridor Nyx had marked.
Voices drifted through the walls—buyers, guards, handlers. I could hear them all, muffled but growing louder the closer I crept.
I reached the breaker box, half-rusted and buzzing faintly with power. My heart pounded in my chest like a war drum.
This was it. No going back.
I braced my shaking hand on the lever, glancing down the corridor one last time.
"For you, Robin," I whispered under my breath.
And with a sharp tug—
I killed the lights. The hum of the lights snapped off with a sharp, metallic clack.
A heartbeat later—
Chaos.
The auction chamber beyond the wall erupted in confused shouting.
I pressed myself flat against the corridor wall as bootsteps thundered past on the other side. Buyers cursed. Guards barked orders. Chains rattled. Somewhere in the darkness, someone started screaming.
I didn't wait.
Moving fast, I slipped down the corridor toward the pressure plate Nyx had shown me on the map. The guards were already panicking—flashlights flickering to life, cutting frantic beams through the dark.
Just a little further…
I found the plate embedded in the floor beneath a vented panel. I dropped to my knees, fingers working the latch free. The roar of boots was getting closer, the noise swelling like a tidal wave rushing toward me.
I yanked the panel loose and slammed my hand down on the trigger.
BWAARRRRMMM—
The siren was deafening.
The floor shuddered under my palms as red emergency lights flared to life overhead, casting the tunnels in blood-colored pulses. The guards' shouting grew sharper, more urgent.
I didn't wait to admire my work.
I turned and ran.
The ground seemed to tilt beneath my feet as I sprinted back toward the entrance, heart hammering, breath tearing through my throat like broken glass. I could hear the guards spilling into the wrong corridor, charging toward the north wing where I'd come from.
Good.
That meant Nyx's crew had their opening.
I skidded around the next corner, searching wildly for the white chalk mark she promised. My pulse spiked when I spotted it—faint but fresh—scratched onto the right side of the tunnel wall.
I pushed harder, feet slipping on the damp stone as I followed the trail deeper into the winding passages. Gunshots rang out somewhere behind me, screams overlapping in the distance.
The air grew colder as I neared the exit tunnel—closer to the sea vent Nyx had promised. I could almost taste the salt on the back of my tongue.
But then—
A shadow moved in front of me.
I skidded to a stop, my breath catching sharp in my throat.
One of the buyers. Or worse—
A broker.
He stood alone, blocking the final bend in the tunnel. Tall, broad, cloaked in a high-collared coat too fine for any dockworker. His face was shadowed, but I didn't need to see it to feel the wrongness leaking off him like oil.
"So you're the rat," he rumbled, cracking his knuckles slowly.
I shifted into a guarded stance, every muscle in my body screaming to run. But there was no way around him. No way back.
It was him, or I died here.
Raven's blood roared in her ears. She could hear her own heartbeat louder than the sirens. The man's posture was too relaxed—too assured. Whoever he was, he'd likely killed before.
I straightened a little, loosening the tension in my shoulders, forcing my face to harden like I belonged here. Like this wasn't the first time I'd pulled a stunt like this.
I let out a slow breath and tilted my chin just enough to look unimpressed.
"You're late," I bit out, lacing my voice with as much venom and authority as I could fake. "The west entrance is compromised. We had to trigger the failsafe early to flush out the rats."
The man stilled, narrowing his eyes, sizing me up. "Failsafe?" His voice was thick with suspicion.
I took a step closer, keeping my hands loose at my sides, masking the way they trembled. "Yeah. You think this mess wasn't planned? Typical broker. You people show up late and think you still have authority." I spat the word like it disgusted me.
He didn't move. Didn't blink. His head tilted slightly.
I doubled down, channeling the coldest glare I could muster. "Unless you want your name on the report when this sale falls through, you'll move. Now."
The tension in the air stretched razor-thin.
For a moment, I thought he might call my bluff. My legs tensed, ready to sprint or die trying.
But then… He smirked.
"Tch. Typical inside rat," he muttered, stepping aside with a sharp wave of his hand, like he couldn't be bothered.
My breath nearly collapsed in my throat.
Without wasting another second, I pushed past him, walking fast but not running, forcing myself not to look back.
Only when I rounded the next corner, out of his sight, did I break into a full sprint toward the final exit.
The sea vent loomed ahead—jagged iron bars already loosened, just as Nyx promised. A faint flicker of light caught my eye beyond it.
Nyx's lookout.
A woman with short silver hair crouched just beyond the opening, motioning urgently. "Move!"
I didn't hesitate.
I squeezed through the broken vent, the cold sea air rushing over me like a slap to the face. The lookout grabbed my arm and yanked me the rest of the way out, shoving me toward the waiting skiff bobbing quietly against the rocks.
"You're late," she hissed.
I collapsed into the boat, gasping. "We need to get my sister—now."
She didn't argue. She grabbed the oars and started rowing toward the northern edge of the island.