The night air grew colder as Rael’s hand hovered near his sword.
The streets were not empty, but the bustle of the city blurred into background noise. Kael’s eyes narrowed as he followed Rael’s gaze.
The man tailing them wasn’t hiding well.
He pulled a hood over his face, but his stride was purposeful, steady, and too deliberate for a common drunk or traveler. It was quite difficult to ignore.
Kael whispered, “Who is he?”
Rael didn’t look at him. “The question is—who sent him. Don't look kid, just keep walking."
They kept walking, the rhythm of boots on stone echoing louder than usual in Kael’s ears. The figure kept pace, closing the gap.
Kael’s pulse quickened. “We can’t just pretend we don’t see him. If he means to strike, then—”
Rael cut him off, his voice low and calm. “Pati
