Chapter 34
The silence that followed the patrol’s departure was more terrifying than the sounds of battle. They were ghosts, cloaked in Lianor’s twilight-fueled glamour, but Aria felt as exposed as if she were standing in a spotlight. Lyra was here. The knowledge was a shard of ice in her gut. Her meticulously planned deception now had a fatal flaw: a single, apex predator who would not be fooled by illusions. “She’s coming,” Aria whispered, her voice low and urgent, meant only for the small group around her. The rest of the "ghost army" of prisoners was still marveling at the fact that the Ebon Guard had walked right past them. “Lyra. Malakor’s assassin.” Lianor, who was maintaining the glamour, frowned. “I do not sense her. The glamour holds. It bends light and shadow, muffles sound, even confuse
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