Millbrook sat nestled in a valley where three rivers converged, its stone buildings clustered around a central marketplace like children huddling for warmth. Once, it had been a prosperous trading town. Now, as Kael, Aria, and Torven approached on the third day of hard riding, it looked like a place holding its breath, waiting for the axe to fall.
"Venrik's patrols come through twice a week," Torven explained as they dismounted in a grove just outside town. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of blood and amber. "We go in at dusk, when the shift changes. Guards are distracted, easier to slip past."
"Who's your contact?" Aria asked, checking her daggers for the tenth time that hour.
"Darius Blackwater. Former pirate captain, now runs the Silver Serpent tavern. He's resistance, though he'd never admit it publicly." Torven's expression was grim. "Fair warning—Darius is only loyal to coin and himself, in that order. Don't trust him, but don't insult him either. We need what he can provide."
Kael adjusted the pendant under his shirt, feeling its reassuring warmth. The past two days had been a blur of riding, brief rest stops, and Torven teaching him basic staff combat during their breaks. His muscles ached, but he was getting stronger, more confident. The power inside him had stayed quiet, controlled by the focusing crystal.
"Remember," Aria said, pulling her cloak's hood up to shadow her face. "We're just travelers passing through. No names, no stories, nothing that draws attention. Kael, keep that pendant hidden and for the love of the gods, don't use magic unless we're dying."
"I won't."
"See that you don't. Towns like this have informants. One flash of power and we'll have every soldier within fifty miles converging on us."
They entered Millbrook as the lamplighters began their rounds. The streets were busy with people hurrying home before curfew—yes, there was a curfew now. Kael noticed the soldiers stationed at every major intersection, their black armor dull in the fading light, red eyes scanning the crowds with predatory alertness.
"Curfew's gotten earlier," Torven muttered. "Things are worse than I thought."
They kept their heads down and moved with purpose, just three more travelers in a town full of strangers. The Silver Serpent was in the merchant quarter, a three-story building with weathered walls and windows that glowed with warm firelight. A painted serpent coiled around the doorframe, its scales shimmering silver and green.
Inside, the tavern was crowded and loud. The air was thick with smoke, ale, and the smell of roasted meat. Sailors, merchants, and locals filled the tables, their conversations a constant rumble of noise that provided perfect cover. A massive man stood behind the bar—easily as tall as Torven but broader, with dark skin covered in intricate tattoos that seemed to move in the firelight. His head was shaved, and three gold rings hung from his left ear.
"Darius," Torven said, approaching the bar. "Still serving watered-down ale and calling it premium?"
The barkeeper's eyes narrowed, then widened in recognition. "Torven Ironfist. Thought you were dead. Hoped you were, actually—you still owe me fifty silver from our last card game." His voice was deep, accented with the rolling cadence of the southern isles.
"I'll pay you back when you learn to shuffle without cheating."
Darius barked a laugh. "Fair enough." His gaze shifted to Aria and Kael, assessing them with the practiced eye of someone who made his living reading people. "New friends? You're moving up in the world, Ironfist. Usually you travel with people even uglier than you."
"We need supplies. Food, water, medicine. And information."
"Everything costs, you know that."
"Put it on my tab."
Darius snorted. "Your tab could buy a small kingdom. But fine. For old times." He jerked his head toward a door behind the bar. "Back room. Ten minutes."
They found a corner table and ordered food to avoid suspicion. The stew was surprisingly good, thick with vegetables and actual chunks of meat. Kael ate mechanically, his eyes constantly scanning the room. Several times he caught people staring at them, and each time his heart jumped before they looked away.
"Paranoid is good," Aria whispered. "Keeps you alive."
"I feel like everyone knows who I am."
"They don't. Trust me, you're not that special-looking. No offense."
Despite everything, Kael almost smiled. Aria's sharp tongue had become oddly comforting over the past few days.
Ten minutes later, they slipped through the door behind the bar and into a storage room lined with barrels and crates. Darius was waiting, along with someone else—a small, wiry man with nervous eyes and fingers that never stopped moving.
"This is Finch," Darius said. "He's got information you'll want to hear. Finch, tell them what you told me."
Finch's eyes darted between them. "There's talk. Word from up north. Venrik's offering a massive bounty—ten thousand gold—for information leading to the capture of a boy. Seventeen, dark hair, traveling north. They say he's got magic, dangerous magic, and he's responsible for killing twenty of Venrik's elite soldiers."
Kael's stomach dropped. Twenty? He'd killed maybe five at most.
"They're exaggerating to make you seem more dangerous," Torven said quietly. "Classic tactic. Makes people afraid to help you."
"There's more," Finch continued. "The Crimson Twins are coming here. Tomorrow. They're systematically searching every town on the northern route, burning any place that harbors fugitives."
Aria cursed. "We need to leave. Tonight."
"Can't." Darius shook his head. "Curfew's absolute. They're shooting anyone out after dark, no questions. You'll have to wait until dawn, slip out in the morning rush."
"That's too risky," Torven said.
"Everything's risky now. But I can hide you until morning. Got a cellar that's warded against magical detection—cost me a fortune, but it's saved my neck more than once."
Kael's mind was racing. The Twins. Tomorrow. The same monsters who'd killed Master Eldrin would be here, hunting him. And when they didn't find him, they'd burn Millbrook. Hundreds of innocent people, dead because he'd been here.
"No," he said suddenly. Everyone turned to stare at him. "We can't let them burn this town."
"We can't stop them either," Aria said. "Kael, be realistic. The Twins are two of Venrik's most powerful servants. We'd be lucky to survive five minutes against them."
"Then we don't fight them. We make sure they don't find evidence we were here." Kael turned to Darius. "Can you hide all traces of us? Make it look like we were never in Millbrook?"
Darius studied him with newfound respect. "Worried about the town, are you? That's either very noble or very stupid." He scratched his chin. "Yeah, I can do that. For the right price."
"I don't have—"
"Not money, boy. A favor. Someday, when you're whoever you're meant to become, you remember that Darius Blackwater helped you. And when the resistance needs someone who can move cargo—or people—through waters Venrik controls, you make sure they remember my name."
"Deal," Kael said without hesitation.
Torven looked impressed. "Practical and compassionate. Your father would be proud."
They spent the next hour erasing their presence. Darius was thorough, bribing the stablemaster to forget the horses, ensuring the tavern workers would swear they'd never seen three travelers matching their description. Finch, for a handful of silver, agreed to spread rumors that mysterious strangers had been spotted two towns over, heading west.
As they worked, Kael noticed Aria watching him with an unreadable expression.
"What?" he asked when they had a moment alone.
"Nothing. Just... most people in your position would only think about saving themselves. You're thinking about strangers who don't even know you exist."
"Master Eldrin taught me that power without compassion is just tyranny. If I let innocent people die to save myself, I'm no better than Venrik."
"That's a nice philosophy. Let's hope it doesn't get you killed."
The cellar was accessed through a hidden door beneath a false barrel. It was cramped and dark, lit by a single enchanted stone that gave off pale blue light. The wards tingled against Kael's skin as he descended—complex magic that would hide them from any detection spell.
"Stay quiet, stay hidden," Darius said from above. "I'll come get you an hour before dawn. There's a supply wagon leaving for the northern provinces. I've arranged for you to hide in it—they're transporting grain, plenty of space under the sacks."
"Thank you," Kael said.
"Don't thank me yet. If the Twins suspect I helped you, they'll peel my skin off slowly. This is a calculated risk, nothing more." The false barrel slid back into place, leaving them in darkness broken only by the pale stone.
They settled in to wait. Torven took first watch, though there was little to watch for in their sealed tomb. Aria curled up in a corner and was asleep within minutes—a soldier's trick. Kael tried to rest but his mind wouldn't quiet.
He pulled out his mother's letter and read it again by the stone's light, memorizing every word. The other descendants. Who were they? Where were they? And how was he supposed to find them when he could barely keep himself alive?
"Your mother was remarkable," Torven said quietly. "Mira Starborn. I met her once, years ago, when she visited the capital. She had a way of making everyone feel like they mattered, like their problems were important to her. You have her eyes."
"What was my father like?"
"Aldric?" Torven smiled, lost in memory. "He was... intensity given form. When he believed in something, nothing could shake him. He believed in justice, in protecting the weak, in standing against evil even when it seemed hopeless. He was also stubborn as a mule and terrible at chess." The smile faded. "He saved my life during the Battle of Crimson Pass. I was pinned down, surrounded. He came back for me when any sane person would have run. That's who he was."
Kael felt tears prick his eyes. "I wish I could have known them."
"They knew you. That's what matters. They died knowing you'd survive, knowing you'd have a chance to become whoever you're meant to be."
Hours crawled past. Kael dozed fitfully, his dreams filled with fire and screaming. He woke to Aria shaking his shoulder, her hand clamped over his mouth.
"Don't make a sound," she breathed in his ear.
He froze, heart hammering. Above them, through the thick cellar door, he could hear voices. Many voices. And then, clear as crystal, a woman's voice that sent ice through his veins.
"Burn it all," Ember said, her voice musical and terrible. "If they're hiding something, the fire will reveal it."
The Crimson Twins had arrived early.
And they were right above them.