The walk to the Mowe junction was longer than usual. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, but the humidity was a thick, invisible wall. Tunde walked ahead, the light of his phone bouncing off the oily puddles. He was still grumbling about the cost of units, his mind firmly rooted in the world of naira and kobo.
Amina followed, but her eyes were no longer seeing the familiar dirt road. Every time she blinked, she saw ghost-images of the Aether. The rusted iron gates of the houses looked like silver bars; the flickering streetlights looked like floating mana-lanterns.
"Amina, keep up," Tunde barked without looking back. "The mallam's shop will close soon."
They reached the junction, a chaotic mess of okada riders and petty traders under yellow umbrellas. But as they approached the recharge kiosk, Amina froze.
Standing by a suya spot was a man. He wasn't dressed like a local. He wore a long, charcoal-grey coat that seemed to repel the rain. He wasn't eating; he was just standing there, staring directly at her. His eyes weren't gold like the Alchemist's, but they were a flat, unnatural silver like the liquid in the basin.
"Tunde," Amina whispered, grabbing his shirt. "That man. Look."
Tunde looked over, then back at her, annoyed. "What man? The suya seller? Amina, please. I don't have time for this."
"No, the one in the coat! Right there!"
Tunde looked again, squinting through the dim light. "There's nobody there but the mallam and some boys waiting for bikes. Are you sure you're okay? This hunger is making you see things."
Amina looked back. The spot was empty.
The man was gone, but the air where he had stood was vibrating. The jasmine scent from her wrist flared up, sharp and aggressive, like a warning.
[Alchemy Bond: Detected 'Void-Seeker' Trace]
The words didn't appear on a screen they echoed inside her skull, cold and clinical.
"I'm fine," she lied, her voice trembling. "Just... dizzy."
They reached the kiosk. While Tunde argued over the 100-naira service charge, Amina felt a cold wind brush her neck. She turned slowly.
The man in the grey coat was now standing five feet behind Tunde. He raised a finger to his lips. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and she could see silver veins pulsing in his neck. He wasn't a ghost; he was a hunter.
He leaned in, his voice a freezing rasp that only she could hear. "The Alchemist thinks he can hide a Soul-Core in a place this filthy? You have three days to break the bond, High Alchemist. Or we will burn this city to find the silver."
"Amina! I'm done. Let's go," Tunde said, pocketing the recharge slip. He walked right through the space where the man stood.
The man vanished like smoke as Tunde passed through him.
Amina stood rooted to the spot. Her husband was complaining about a 100-naira charge, while a silver-eyed demon was threatening to burn Lagos to the ground because of the soul she shared with him.
"Three days," she whispered to the empty air.
"Three days for what?" Tunde asked, already halfway down the road.
Amina didn't answer. She reached into her bra and felt the jasmine petal. It wasn't cold anymore. It was burning hot.