The extraction mission was completely off the books.
Long past midnight, in the damp, echoing stone of the palace’s hidden postern gate, Corren and Nix were preparing to leave the capital. Corren, dressed in pitch-black leather, was methodically checking the throwing knives strapped to his thighs. Nix stood beside him, her face illuminated by the blue glow of her smartphone as she scrolled through encrypted transport schedules and aristocratic land registries.
"House Valerius holds a small estate near the eastern border," Nix whispered, tapping the screen. "If Lord Ventar threatened him, Tayren is likely keeping a low profile there. We can reach it by tomorrow night."
Silra stood in the shadows of the tunnel, pulling her cloak tight against the chill. "Find him, Corren. Tell him Issandr
