The first sign their hidden world was about to be torn apart was not a shout. Not a clash of steel. But a sound.
A low, resonant gong. A sound no one in the Ashen Market had heard in over a century. The ancient, long-dormant warding alarm at the main portal.
A final, desperate warning. The sound echoed through the sprawling bazaar. A deep, mournful tone. It cut through the usual hum of activity like a funeral dirge.
Every head snapped towards the entrance. A wave of stunned, disbelieving silence washed over the market. Followed by a rising tide of panicked, furious shouts. They had been found. Their sanctuary. Their hidden haven. Was no longer hidden.
In his safe house, Edward heard the gong. His blood ran cold. He knew, with an absolute, gut-wrenching certainty, what it meant. His past. His enemies. The world he had tried so desperately to escape. Had just kicked down his new front door.
