The Jade Terrace was high enough that the wind usually provided some relief, but today, it felt like standing in the path of a dragon’s sneeze. Eryndor shifted his weight, his ceremonial robes—stiff with enough gold thread to buy a small village—creaking ominously."Don't move," Lorandir whispered, leaning in so close that Eryndor could smell the peppermint leaf he’d been chewing. "You’re sweating through the silk near your neck. If it hits the collar, we’re doomed. That dye isn't colorfast.""I’m literally melting, Lorandir," Eryndor muttered back, his jaw tight as he stared out at the sea of expectant elven faces below. "I feel like a stuffed pheasant about to be served for lunch. Why is this robe so heavy? Did they line it with lead?""It’s for gravity. Or dignity. Or whatever elves who aren't you care about," Lorandir said, adjusting a loose strand of hair behind Eryndor’s ear. "Look, just do the jump, land gracefully, and try not to look like you’re having a panic attack. Think o

"Eryndor," Aelith hissed, her hand still clamped over his mouth. "Not a sound. If you breathe too loud, they’ll hear the desperation in your lungs.""I’m literally trying not to die from a thorn in my kidney," Eryndor muffled against her palm. "Can we maybe move? Just an inch?""No. Look," she whispered, her gaze fixed on the grey-cloaked figures moving through the trees. They glided with a sickening, liquid silence, their forms flickering like mirages before they eventually vanished into the deeper thicket of the Silver Marsh.Eryndor waited until his heart rate dropped from 'rabbit being chased by a wolf' to 'deer hearing a distant branch snap.' "They’re gone. Can we… untangle? My leg is cramping in ways I didn't know were anatomically possible."Aelith let out a sharp, jagged breath and finally released him, pushing herself up from the prickly depths of the bush. "That wasn't supposed to happen. They shouldn't be inside the inner gardens.""So, what's the plan?" Eryndor asked, pick

"Stay down! And for the love of the gods, stop breathing so loudly!" Aelith hissed, her voice a sharp contrast to the whistling of another bolt passing inches above their heads."I’m trying, but my lungs are having a disagreement with the rest of my body!" Eryndor gasped, pressed flat into the damp moss. "Also, you’re currently using my ribcage as a shield! Which, honestly, I get, but it’s not helping the breathing situation!"Aelith didn't answer. She rolled off him with a fluidity that made his head spin, her dual blades clearing their sheaths with a double shring that sounded like ice cracking. "On my mark, we run toward the ravine. If we stay here, they'll pin us down like target practice.""The ravine? The one with the rocks? And the steep drop? Aelith, have we met? I struggle with flat hallways!""Run, Eryndor! Now!"He didn't need a second invitation. He scrambled up, his long ceremonial robes catching on a nearby root immediately. He jerked forward with a pathetic squawk, the

“There,” Eryndor whispered, pointing toward a flickering lantern near the end of the pier. “She’s actually doing it. She’s meeting with the Southern Shroud.”“Looks like my social schedule just got a lot more dangerous,” Eryndor added, his eyes fixed on the exchange below. “I really hope these guys are allergic to something, because if they are, I’ve got a backup plan.”Aelith grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the shadows of a warehouse. “We can’t just stand here in our ceremonial rags, Eryndor. We stick out like a pair of sore thumbs in a glove factory.”“So, what’s the move? We head home and call it a day?”“No,” Aelith said, looking him up and down with a grimace. “We need a cover. And I know exactly where to get one that won’t ask questions.”“Please don’t say the dumpsters. I’ve had enough items in my hair for one week.”“Lorandir’s backroom,” she clarified, already steering him toward the merchant district. “Move. Quietly.”Ten minutes later, Eryndor was staring at a sequ

“Aelith?”“Yes?”“I think I just performed a very successful swap with myself.”“Eryndor Silvaris, do not drink that wine.”“I’m really thirsty, though,” he whispered, his eyes wide with panic. “Is it getting hot in here, or is it just the existential dread?”“Put it down. Put it down slowly.”Eryndor looked at the cup. He looked at Aelith. Then, his hand gave a violent, involuntary twitch, and he gulped the remaining liquid down in one frantic, nervous reflex.“Oops.”“Oops? Did you just say oops to a cup of heart-stopping night-shade?” Aelith’s face went from white to a terrifying shade of translucent grey.“My hand did a thing! You know how my hands do things without asking permission!” Eryndor gasped, clutching his throat. “Wait. It tastes like… blackcurrant and iron? That’s a bold choice for a murder weapon.”“Eryndor, listen to me. Breathe. Can you breathe?”“Yeah, I’m fine. I feel—actually, I feel kind of tingly. Like my blood is throwing a very small, very rhythmic rave in my