I returned to the alley the following morning.
The market district had grown louder than the previous day. Caravans from the western road had arrived during the night, and merchants were already arguing over storage space near the warehouses. Workers shouted instructions while unloading crates from wagons, and the smell of grain and leather filled the air.
Velkrane District rarely rested.
That constant movement made it easy for someone to disappear.
I walked past the alley without entering and continued down the street until I reached the silver fish tavern again. The door stood open, and the same tavern keeper leaned against the counter while speaking with two dock workers.
He glanced at me when I entered.
"You came back."
"Your ale wasn't terrible."
"That's the most praise I've heard all week."
I took the same seat near the window as yesterday. From there I could see the alley entrance clearly while remaining just another customer inside the tavern.
The tavern keeper brought the drink without asking.
"Waiting for someone today?" he asked.
"Possibly."
He shrugged and returned to his work.
That was one advantage of districts like Velkrane. People learned quickly not to pry into matters that did not concern them.
I spent the morning watching the street.
Merchants moved in steady streams between the warehouses and the harbor. Several city guards passed by, though none of them paid particular attention to the alleys. To them the district was simply crowded and inconvenient, not dangerous.
They were wrong, but their ignorance worked in my favor.
Around midday a small group of couriers crossed the street outside the tavern window.
My attention sharpened immediately.
Couriers were easy to identify if you knew what to look for. They carried light packs instead of heavy cargo, moved quickly without attracting attention, and kept their hands free so they could react if someone tried to intercept them.
One of the men slowed near the alley entrance.
He wore a dark traveling cloak and a leather satchel hung at his side.
The same man I had seen yesterday.
He paused for a moment as if confirming the street around him, then stepped into the alley.
I stood immediately.
The tavern keeper raised an eyebrow as I left the table.
"Important meeting?"
"You could say that."
Outside, the noise of the market wrapped around me again. I crossed the street calmly and entered the alley a few seconds after the courier.
The passage remained quiet. Damp stone walls blocked most of the sunlight, leaving the ground covered in long shadows.
The courier stood halfway down the alley.
He had removed something from his satchel and was examining it carefully.
From this distance I could not see the object clearly, but I recognized the posture. He was studying it with the concentration of someone who did not fully understand what they were holding.
Interesting.
I approached slowly.
The man noticed me when I was still several steps away. His hand moved instinctively toward the dagger at his belt.
"Alley's not wide enough for two," he said.
His voice carried the accent of the northern provinces.
I stopped a few paces away.
"You came here yesterday as well," I replied.
His expression hardened slightly.
"You've been watching me."
"I've been watching the alley."
"That sounds worse."
Fair.
For a moment neither of us spoke.
The courier studied my face with careful suspicion. He was probably trying to decide whether I belonged to the city guard, a rival courier company, or something more dangerous.
In truth, I belonged to none of those.
"What are you carrying?" I asked.
"That's not your concern."
He slid the object back into the satchel and stepped toward the street.
I moved aside to let him pass.
Stopping him by force would accomplish little. Even if he carried the artifact, taking it now would only raise attention before I understood the situation fully.
The courier paused beside me as he reached the alley entrance.
"You shouldn't watch people like that," he said quietly.
"Why?"
"Because sometimes the people you watch notice."
Then he left.
I remained in the alley for several seconds, considering what I had just seen.
The satchel.
The careful way he handled the object.
The confusion in his posture.
He did not understand what he carried.
Which meant someone else had given it to him.
That complicated things.
If the courier had been hired to deliver the relic, then the murder I remembered might not have been random at all. Someone could have intercepted him here before he reached his destination.
Which meant the real problem might not be the courier.
It might be whoever planned to take the artifact from him.
I walked back toward the tavern.
The keeper glanced up again as I entered.
"You found your meeting?"
"Not yet."
He nodded as if that answer made perfect sense.
I returned to the window seat and looked toward the alley.
Two days remained before the murder would occur.
But the situation was already clearer.
The victim would almost certainly be that courier.
And the artifact hidden inside his satchel was the fragment of the Hollow Archive Path I needed to reclaim.
Now the question was simple.
Who intended to kill him?