They bound Orien's wrists with black cord that shimmered faintly in the torchlight, as if it were drinking in the glow. Kaelen knew enough about arcane bindings to realize that cutting them wouldn't work — those ropes could only be undone by the one who tied them.
"Don't do anything stupid," Orien murmured as they shoved him forward.
Kaelen forced a smirk. "You know that's not really an option for me."
Thayen gave a curt signal, and the masked followers ushered the captain down one of the Hollow Market's crooked back alleys. The shadows there were thicker than they should have been, swallowing torchlight like ink in water. Within seconds, they were gone.
Kaelen stood in the sudden stillness, breath sharp in his chest. He could feel eyes on him — not just the curious market-goers, but others, the sort who made their living by selling dangerous favors.
A gruff voice spoke from behind a spice stall. "You look like a man about to make a very bad decision."
Kaelen turned. A wiry old woman sat on a stool, her left eye replaced by a polished obsidian orb. She grinned, showing teeth stained blue from chewing kava root.
"You're after your friend," she said. "Two ways to do that. First, you follow the Bone Mask and his pets — quiet as shadow, quick as guilt. Second, you make a deal with the market's… less visible residents. Either way, you'll owe someone."
Kaelen hesitated. Both options felt like walking into different traps — but doing nothing wasn't an option.
The woman tapped the obsidian eye. "Choose quick. They'll be halfway to the Gates of Ash by now."