The courtroom smelled of bone-dust and rosewater, sweet enough to mask the stench of cruelty, sharp enough to remind Elias Dray that nothing about today was meant to be gentle.“Elias Dray,” Judge Marrow intoned, his voice echoing against polished bone walls, “do you understand the accusation brought against you?”Elias swallowed. “Yes, Your Honor.”Lyra Vintrel, his wife for three humiliating years, didn’t even look at him. She stood tall in her silk mourning-black, the color nobles wore when discarding someone beneath their dignity.Her gaze remained fixed ahead, jaw rigid, as if acknowledging him would dirty her tongue. The gallery buzzed like vultures circling a corpse.“Then let us proceed.” The judge turned to Lyra. “Lady Vintrel, your grounds for divorce?”Lyra’s voice rang out like a blade. “My husband is defective.”A ripple of snickers swept through the chamber. Elias clenched his hands. “Lyra, please”“Do not address me,” she snapped.Judge Marrow lifted a hand. “Evidence?”

The slums of Lowbone were a maze of narrow corridors and leaning shacks, lit only by flickering marrow-lamps that buzzed like dying insects.Elias moved quickly, keeping Seren close, ducking beneath torn awnings and weaving between vendors closing their stalls for the night. Seren whispered, “Where are we going?”“Somewhere the guards won’t bother us,” Elias said. “And where the Bone Alchemists can’t reach.”Seren hugged herself. “Do they… do they really take children here too?”Elias’s jaw tightened. “Everywhere.”A street beggar lifted his head as they passed. “Elias?” he rasped. “Back so soon? Thought your noble wife kicked you out for good.”Elias gave a strained smile. “Good to see you too, Harp.”The beggar squinted at Seren. “Who’s the little one?”“My responsibility,” Elias said, and something in his tone made the man nod and return to his blankets.Seren whispered, “You know everyone here.”“I used to treat people,” Elias replied. “Even without magic.”“Why?”“Because someone

Torches flared along the entrances of the Marrow Market as Elias and Seren slipped into the narrow winding paths between shacks.The air buzzed with panic, vendors scrambling to hide illegal goods, children darting into gutters, bone-thieves scattering like insects when light hits.Seren clung tightly to Elias’s neck. “They’re everywhere,” she whispered.“I know,” he murmured. “But they aren’t looking for the market. They’re looking for us.”A horn blared again, closer. Elias ducked behind a wall of stacked bone crates. Through the gaps, he saw armored figures fanning out through the market, Bonehunters.Elite enforcers of the Bone Alchemist Council. Their helmets were carved to look like skulls, their armor etched with symbols of extraction.Seren inhaled sharply. “Those are the ones who took Bram.”Elias felt her trembling and shifted her weight so she could bury her face against him. “I won’t let them take you.”“But what if they find us?”“They won’t,” Elias said. “We move fast, s

The tunnels grew colder the farther they traveled, the air thick with an ancient heaviness that pressed on Elias’s lungs.Seren held his hand tightly, her small fingers trembling every time the distant echoes shifted behind them. “Elias… are we still following the path the Remnant showed us?” she whispered.“Yes,” Elias murmured, lifting the bone dagger to illuminate the corridor. “This way.”Seren’s voice quivered. “Do you think there are more of those… things?”“Maybe,” Elias said truthfully. “But the Remnant didn’t attack us in the end. That means something.”Seren hugged her arms. “Everything down here feels like it’s watching us.”Elias felt it too, an invisible pressure crawling along his spine, like the bones in the walls were holding their breath.The symbols etched into the walls were changing as they moved: first simple runes, then more complicated spirals, then long winding lines that glowed faintly whenever he passed.“Why do they light up when you get close?” Seren asked,

The tunnel narrowed as Elias and Seren moved deeper, the glow of ancient runes pulsing faintly beneath their steps. The air was cooler here, cleaner, almost… expectant.Seren held Elias’s hand tightly. “Do you think Ravel will come back?”“He will,” Elias answered. “But not immediately.”“How do you know?”Elias exhaled. “Because he’s afraid.”Seren blinked. “Afraid of you?”“He should be.”Seren quieted at the tone in his voice, firm, steady, unfamiliar even to Elias himself. They walked until the tunnel opened into a smaller chamber lined with shelves carved from bone.Fractured tablets, hollowed femurs filled with parchment, and marrow-crystals dimmed by age lay scattered as if abandoned in a hurry. Seren gasped softly. “What is this place?”Elias stilled. “An archive.”Her eyes widened. “Like… a library?”“A Bonekeeper memory chamber,” Elias said, stepping inside. “Their histories, spells, rituals… everything they protected.”Seren touched a dusty shelf. “Why did they leave all th