The ancient path beneath their boots remained illuminated—a narrow silver stone winding backward through the black fortress toward the surface.
Neither of them spoke as they walked.
The walls had gone dead. There were no false memories waiting around the turn. No shadows reaching from the dark.
Rhea’s mind kept circling back to Nahrak’s final words: Your mother begged me to take it from you.
Lucci glanced down at her, his broad shoulders brushing against hers in the narrow corridor. "You've been quiet."
"I'm thinking," she said, her eyes fixed on the path ahead.
"That's usually when you're dangerous."
Rhea gave him a tired, sideways look. "You really don't know when to drop it, do you?"
"I do."
"When?"
"When you're about to smile."
She looked away instantly, staring at the blank
