Sera's POV
"GET DOWN!"
Cassian's hand slammed into my shoulder, throwing me to the floor just as the window above us exploded into a thousand pieces.
Glass rained down like deadly snow. I covered my head, heart racing so fast I thought it might burst. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard footsteps—heavy boots pounding up the stairs toward us.
"The fire escape!" Mirage yelled, already running. "Move, move, MOVE!"
But we were trapped. The attackers were coming from both directions now. I could hear their voices, cold and commanding, getting closer every second.
This was it. We were going to die.
Then Cassian grabbed my hand, yanked me toward what looked like a solid wall, and pushed. A hidden door swung open.
"Secret passage," he said, shoving me through. "Go!"
We ran through pitch-black tunnels that twisted and turned like a maze. Behind us, the sounds of pursuit faded. My lungs burned. My legs screamed. But I didn't stop until Cassian finally said we were safe.
Safe. What a joke.
"We can't keep running forever," I said once we'd caught our breath in Cassian's headquarters. My hands were shaking. "They found us once. They'll find us again."
"Which is why we need to move first." Cassian paced like a caged wolf. "We need information about Damien's plans. What he's really after. Where he'll strike next."
"And how exactly do we get that?" I asked.
Mirage grinned, but it wasn't her usual playful smile. This one was sharp and a little scary. "There's only one place in this city that sells secrets."
"The Memory Markets," Cassian said quietly, like the words themselves were dangerous.
A chill ran down my spine. "What's the Memory Markets?"
"A place where people buy and sell memories," Mirage explained. "Happy ones, sad ones, secrets. If someone knows something valuable, they can pull that memory out of their head and sell it like a piece of fruit."
I stared at her. "That's... that's horrible."
"It's survival," Cassian corrected. "And it's our only option. If anyone knows what Damien is planning, their memory will be for sale there."
A week had passed since the attack. Seven days of intense training that left me bruised, exhausted, and actually kind of dangerous. I could make fire appear without blowing things up now. I could throw a decent punch. I could run fast and think faster.
But walking into the Memory Markets dressed in a dark hood that hid my face? That made me feel like a scared little girl again.
Mirage led us through alleys so twisted I lost track of which direction we were going. Down, always down, into the belly of the city. The deeper we went, the darker it got, until finally we stepped through a crack in a stone wall and—
My breath caught.
The Memory Markets spread out before us like an underground city. Blue crystal lights floated everywhere, casting weird shadows. Hundreds of people moved between stalls and shops, their voices creating a low buzz that sounded like angry bees.
"Stay close," Cassian whispered. "Don't talk to anyone. Don't make eye contact. And whatever you do, don't let them see your face clearly."
We moved through the crowd slowly. At every stall, I saw things that made my stomach turn.
Glass vials filled with glowing liquid in different colors. Gold for happy memories. Silver for sad ones. Red for... I didn't want to know.
"First kiss, barely used!" a vendor shouted. "Only fifty coins!"
"Childhood birthday parties! Three for the price of two!"
"Your mother's voice saying 'I love you,'" another one called out. "Remember what love feels like..."
I had to look away from that one. Some man with hollow eyes was actually buying it, counting out coins with shaking hands.
"How can people sell their own memories?" I whispered to Mirage.
Her expression was sad. "When you're desperate enough, when you've lost everything else... sometimes your memories are all you have left to sell. And bills don't pay themselves."
I thought about that man buying a memory of his mother's love. Had she died? Had he sold his own memories of her and now regretted it? Was he trying to buy back what he'd lost?
My chest ached.
"Focus," Cassian said sharply. "We're looking for information about Damien. Check the vendor on the left—he deals in political secrets."
We approached a stall where an old woman with milky eyes sat surrounded by red vials. Political secrets. Dangerous information.
Cassian leaned in, pretending to browse. "We're looking for information about Damien Ashford. Recent plans. Future targets."
The woman's blind eyes somehow found his face. "That information will cost you more than coins, Shadow Walker."
My heart stopped. She knew who he was.
"Name your price," Cassian said calmly, but I could see his hand moving toward his dagger.
"Not for sale to you," she hissed. "But I'll give you something for free. Damien seeks the Eternal Flame in the Ashen Wastes. He believes it will make him—"
"THIEVES!"
The shout came from behind us. I spun around and saw guards in black armor pointing straight at us.
"Lady Vivienne wants them alive!" another guard yelled. "Fifty gold coins to whoever catches them!"
The entire market turned to look at us.
"Run!" Cassian grabbed my hand and yanked me forward.
We sprinted through the market. Guards chased us from every direction. People dove out of our way, scattering like startled birds. I jumped over a table of memory vials, and they crashed to the ground behind me, releasing a thousand stolen moments into the air like colorful ghosts.
Mirage ran beside us, her hands moving in quick patterns. Suddenly there were six of us—identical copies running in different directions.
"Illusions!" a guard shouted. "Don't let the real ones escape!"
Cassian fought off two guards who got too close, his movements so fast they were almost a blur. His dagger flashed in the blue light. The guards went down.
My lungs burned. My legs felt like they might give out. But fear kept me running.
We burst out of the Memory Markets and into the regular streets above. Kept running. Didn't stop until we were back at headquarters, the door locked behind us, all three of us gasping for air.
"Everyone... okay?" Mirage panted.
I nodded, too breathless to speak.
"We got what we needed," Cassian said between breaths. "The Eternal Flame. Damien's searching for it in the Ashen Wastes."
"What is it?" I managed to ask.
Cassian's face was grim. "A source of unlimited fire magic. The most powerful flame that's ever existed. If Damien finds it and absorbs its power, he won't just control the Shadow Council. He'll be unstoppable. Immortal. A god."
The weight of those words settled over me like a heavy blanket.
"Then we have to find it first," I said.
"The Ashen Wastes are a death trap," Mirage warned. "Nothing lives there. The air itself is poison. It's called the Ashen Wastes because everyone who goes there turns to ash."
"We don't have a choice," Cassian said. "If Damien gets the Eternal Flame—"
A knock at the door made us all freeze.
Three sharp knocks. Then two. Then one.
"That's the signal," Mirage whispered, confused. "That's Marcus's signal. But he's not supposed to be back for days..."
Cassian moved to the door, dagger ready. "Marcus? That you?"
"It's me," a familiar voice called from outside. "Let me in. Quick. I've got information about the traitor."
My heart leaped. Finally, we'd know who betrayed us!
Cassian opened the door.
Marcus stumbled in, bleeding from a cut on his arm. His eyes were wild, desperate.
"Thank the stars," he gasped. "I barely escaped. The traitor—I know who it is. I saw them meeting with Damien's people. I heard everything."
"Who?" Cassian demanded. "Who's the traitor?"
Marcus looked at each of us. His eyes landed on me.
And what he said next made the entire world tilt sideways:
"It's Mirage."
I turned to look at my friend, my teacher, the girl who'd made me laugh when I wanted to cry.
Mirage stood frozen, her face completely white.
"That's a lie," she whispered.
But Marcus pulled out a glowing memory vial from his pocket—proof of what he'd seen.
"Watch it yourself," he said. "The truth is right here."