Ravel and Seris slipped through the back lanes of the western district, keeping to the shade where the noise of the crowd softened. The city had changed in the years since Ravel vanished from its life. New brick roads cut through old neighborhoods. Fresh watchtowers loomed above rooftops that used to belong to simple shopkeepers. The empire had carved its mark into every corner, and none of it made him feel safer.
Seris moved as if she had walked these streets her entire life. She didn't look over her shoulder. She didn't rush. She didn't tense when guards appeared at the next intersection. She shifted angles, timed her steps, and threaded through the maze of streets as if every stone had whispered when it was safe to pass.
Ravel followed in silence. His instincts kept trying to pull him back toward the watchtower on the outskirts. It wasn't a true home, but it was familiar, predictable. These crowded streets were not.
Seris slowed beside a stack of crates and nodded faintly. "Two patrols ahead. They're tightening the net."
Ravel frowned. "For me?"
"No." Seris tilted her head. "For anything unusual. And you are very unusual."
He didn't answer.
The sphere warmed against his ribs. Its heat came in steady rhythm, like breathing. Ever since the sky had cracked, the sphere had stopped behaving like an object and began reacting like a creature.
Seris noticed the way he shifted his weight. "You're carrying something important."
His eyes narrowed. "How would you know?"
"I was trained to notice things people try to hide." She leaned one shoulder against a wall. "Don't worry. If I wanted to steal it, I wouldn't have started a conversation."
"Then why start one at all?" Ravel asked.
She looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time without calculation. "Because you don't walk like someone running from a crime. You walk like someone running from the world."
Ravel's jaw tightened. "You don't know anything about me."
"Maybe not." Seris pushed off the wall. "But I know what fear looks like. And yours doesn't fit fear. It fits… something else."
Before he could respond, she motioned for him to follow again.
They reached the boundary wall of the district. Beyond it stretched a network of trade roads and sparse farmland. The western gate towered above them. A line of wagons waited to leave the city, but the inspection was slow. Too slow. Soldiers were examining each cart with resonance detectors.
Seris clicked her tongue. "That won't work."
Ravel folded his arms. "You said you knew a way out."
"I do." She pointed left. "But it's not through the gate."
She led him into a storage yard full of empty carts and stacked barrels. Workers shouted at each other as they loaded supplies, but none paid attention to the pair weaving through the rows.
Seris stopped at a stone drainage tunnel half-hidden behind a pile of crates.
Ravel stared. "We're going through that?"
"Relax," she said. "It's larger than it looks."
"It better be."
Seris crouched and slid inside. Ravel followed, ducking low as cool damp air filled the narrow tunnel. Water trickled down from small cracks in the stone, and the floor sloped downward. After a few steps, the tunnel widened enough for Ravel to stand straight.
"How did you know about this?" he asked.
"I trained here when I was fifteen," she said. "There's a whole system of tunnels under Serrin. Most soldiers only know about half of them."
"So you're using the other half."
"Exactly."
They moved deeper. The sound of the city faded behind them. The tunnel curved in gentle arcs, each turn swallowing more light. Ravel touched the inner wall. It was smooth, polished long ago by tools far better than what the empire used now. That sparked a thought.
"This tunnel… is older than the capital."
Seris glanced back. "You know architecture too?"
"I read things," Ravel said.
She snorted. "Most heirs don't."
He didn't reply.
They reached a split in the tunnel. One path sloped steeply downward, while the other continued at a steady angle.
"Left goes to the under-cistern," Seris said. "Right leads outside the city walls."
Ravel pointed downward. "What's in the cistern?"
"Nothing you want to meet."
"That vague?"
"That friendly."
Ravel nodded. "Right it is."
They moved on.
After several minutes, Seris raised a hand, halting him. Her eyes sharpened.
"What is it?" Ravel whispered.
She pointed upward. Faint echoes traveled through the stone. Heavy footsteps, dozens of them, marching in formation above their heads.
Ravel's breath slowed. "They're searching the district."
"No." Seris listened for a moment longer. "They're searching for you."
He opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
"People don't mobilize this fast unless they know exactly who they're hunting." Her voice dropped lower. "Your family must have said something."
Ravel looked away.
House Kyron. His father. His uncles. His cousins with their perfect posture and fragile pride. They had built their reputation on power, on tradition, on bloodline purity. When Ravel abandoned them five years ago, the scandal had spread through the empire like wildfire.
Maybe they had kept his disappearance a secret… for a while.
But a sky-shattering omen? That would remind them he existed.
Ravel gripped the strap of his satchel. "I don't care what they want. I'm not going back."
Seris gave a slow nod, as if she understood more than she let on. "Good. Because the next patrol passes in twenty seconds. Move."
They pressed forward, quick but silent. The tunnel widened again until it emptied into a low stone chamber. Light filtered through a grated opening above.
Seris crouched beneath it. "This leads outside the walls."
Ravel peered upward. He could see a hint of sky and the distant crest of the outer battlements. "Is it clear?"
"Usually."
"That's not comforting."
"No plan is perfect," she said. "Especially when you're wanted."
She pushed upward with her palms and the grate shifted, groaning against the stone. She lifted it just enough to check the surface, then lowered it.
"We're good. Come on."
She climbed out first. Ravel followed, pulling himself up into blinding daylight. Grass rustled under his boots. A wide field stretched beyond the city, dotted with old stone fences and scattered trees. The air smelled fresher here.
Behind them rose the huge outer wall of Serrin. On its battlements, guards patrolled back and forth, unaware of the two figures slipping into the tall grass below.
Ravel took in the open sky. For a moment, he let himself breathe.
Seris dusted off her hands. "Now we move fast. Patrols sweep this zone every thirty minutes."
He nodded.
Then the sphere pulsed again.
This time harder.
Ravel winced. Seris noticed instantly. "What is that?"
"Nothing," he said.
"That didn't look like nothing."
He didn't answer. The sphere pulsed again, and Ravel felt a pull in a specific direction. Not north toward the mountains. Not west toward the rivers. South.
It wanted him to go south.
Seris followed his gaze. "Something wrong?"
Ravel hesitated. Telling her the truth felt reckless. But hiding it wouldn't stop the sphere from interfering.
"There's… something I need to reach," he said. "Not in the city. Beyond it."
"How far?"
"I don't know. The sphere reacts when I get closer."
"Sphere?"
He regretted speaking immediately.
Seris folded her arms. "You're carrying something the empire wants. And it reacts. And you didn't mention this earlier because…?"
"Because I don't know what it is yet," Ravel said.
Seris stared at him long enough to make him uncomfortable. "Do you at least know what direction it's pointing you?"
"Yes."
She exhaled slowly. "Then we follow that."
Ravel blinked. "Just like that?"
"I didn't risk deserter status to wander aimlessly," Seris said. "If the empire wants you this badly, then whatever you're carrying is important. Important enough to get out of the city. Important enough that your instincts matter now."
Ravel searched her expression. She wasn't lying. Her eyes stayed steady, grounded. She wasn't doing this for profit or glory. She was doing it because she had nothing left to lose.
"Fine," he said. "South."
Seris nodded. "Then let's move."
They walked into the grassland, leaving the city behind. The noise faded. The wind picked up. For the first time since Ravel returned to Serrin, he felt the faintest hint of freedom.
But freedom didn't last long.
Because as they stepped beyond the shadow of the walls, a distant horn sounded from the battlements.
And Seris cursed under her breath.
"They saw us."