The palace was too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind. The wrong kind.
Torchlight wavered along the stone walls, throwing shadows that stretched and warped as Lyra moved, bending where they shouldn't. Her boots echoed softly against the floor, each step sounding louder than she liked. She kept her hood low, senses pulled tight, listening for anything out of place. A scrape. A breath. The hint of movement where there shouldn't be one.
Every sound set her nerves on edge. She couldn't tell whether her heart was racing from anticipation or warning. Maybe both.
Elowen walked a few paces ahead of her, armor gleaming dully in the firelight. The captain had insisted on escorting her through the inner halls. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew every turn, every blind corner. The faint clink of steel followed her steps, steady and controlled. It helped. A little.
"Keep your eyes open," Elowen murmured without slowing. "Kael doesn't make careless moves. Neither do the things that follow him."
Lyra arched a brow beneath her hood but stayed quiet.
She had seen Kael disappear once already, swallowed by shadow like it welcomed him. His warning had been brief, half-spoken, but it had lodged itself under her skin. Whatever was moving through the palace knew the halls better than most guards ever would.
The corridors narrowed as they went deeper, twisting in ways that felt deliberate. Torches thinned out. Light struggled to reach the corners. Runes carved into the stone walls flickered faintly as Lyra passed, responding without being asked.
She hated that part most.
Each pulse answered the soft glow beneath her skin, a reminder she couldn't escape no matter how hard she tried.
It felt like the palace knew her.
Like it had been waiting.
"Elowen," Lyra said quietly, breaking the silence, "has it always been like this?"
The captain didn't answer right away.
"On edge," Lyra added. "The palace."
Elowen's jaw tightened. "Longer than we admit. There have been intruders. Messages that vanish before we can trace them. Guards who swear they heard footsteps where no one stood." Her voice dropped. "Whatever it is, it's growing bolder."
Lyra glanced at the shadows lining the walls. "And the King's advisors?"
"They know what we allow them to know," Elowen said. "Fear spreads faster than truth."
Then, softer, almost reluctant, "But you're different. You notice things others don't."
A sudden cold swept through the corridor.
Lyra stiffened.
That feeling again. The wrongness. The sense of being watched by something that wasn't meant to be there.
Her fingers brushed the edge of her cloak, over the faint pulse at her wrist.
"Kael," she breathed.
He stepped out of the darkness as if her voice had pulled him free.
Hood low. Eyes sharp. A dagger resting easy at his side, more habit than threat. He looked relaxed, which somehow made it worse.
"You move quickly," he said mildly. "For a palace full of secrets, this one's careless tonight."
Lyra didn't look away from him. "What is he doing here?"
Elowen's hand settled on her sword. "He goes where he chooses. Don't mistake that for safety."
Kael's gaze slid back to Lyra. "I follow what's interesting."
A shiver crawled up her spine, but she kept her voice steady. Fear had never helped her survive.
"Do you know what's happening?" she asked. "The intruders. The shadows."
Kael smiled, faint and humorless. "I know fragments. That's all anyone ever gets before things break." His eyes lingered on her wrist. "You, though—you carry the question no one wants answered."
"Elaborate," Elowen snapped.
Kael straightened, his hood slipping back just enough to reveal more of his sharp features. "The palace isn't safe tonight. Not for her. Not for anyone with unfinished blood and buried truths."
Lyra's grip tightened on her cloak. "Why me?"
"Because the shadows notice you," Kael said simply. "And they remember."
A loud clang rang out somewhere down the hall.
Torchlight flared violently, shadows jerking as if yanked by unseen hands.
Elowen drew her sword in one smooth motion, the blade humming faintly. "Stay close," she ordered. "Trust nothing you can't see."
Lyra followed as they moved, heart pounding. Kael fell into step beside them without being asked, silent now, alert. He blended into the darkness so easily it felt like the shadows bent around him.
The corridor opened into a wide hall, its ceiling arched high and carved with worn, intricate designs. Runes glowed faintly along the edges, answering the pulse beneath Lyra's skin.
The magic throbbed harder now. Not painful. Just present. Like a second heartbeat.
Kael broke the silence. "Things are about to change. The palace. The King. You."
Lyra met his gaze. "I'll manage."
"Maybe," he said quietly. "But this place has a will of its own. And it holds grudges."
Elowen scanned the hall, eyes sharp. "Enough. We move. The King needs to know how secure the corridors truly are."
They advanced carefully, every step measured.
Shadows twisted just beyond the reach of the light.
Lyra didn't falter.
Somewhere deeper in the palace, something watched.
Whispers slid through the stone. Old power shifted. Threads tightened.
The palace was waking.
And with every pulse of light beneath her skin, Lyra knew her own awakening was close behind.
The night was only beginning.