The figure didn’t move. Whoever it was stood just beyond the swirl of smoke, a shape cut from shadow against the jagged ruins. The bells still tolled faintly in the distance, their mournful echo layering unease over the silence.
Wren shifted closer to me, her blade raised, the tension in her stance coiled tight like a spring. “Don’t tell me you recognize this one too,” she muttered.
I forced a smirk, though my pulse thundered in my ears. “If I did, I’d hardly admit it with you watching.”
Her eyes flashed, but before she could answer, the watcher took a step forward. The sound was deliberate, stone scraping against stone, like a challenge.
For one wild moment, I wondered if it was another messenger from the masked figure, or worse, Arabella herself slipping through the cracks of this ni
