Dawn broke with unnatural silence.
The temple bells rang thrice—sharp, hollow, off-rhythm.
Arcantha snapped her head up. “That's not mourning."
“What is it?" Vera asked, already reaching for her boots.
“A signal. For fire."
---
Outside the observatory, the wind smelled of ash.
Smoke curled from the direction of the palace.
Carlisle stood at the edge of the ridge, watching orange plumes rise. “It's begun."
“The Council?" Vera asked.
He nodded. “They're using the fire alarm to divert temple guards. Classic coup tactic."
Arcantha cursed under her breath. “They're going for the lunar annex. It's the weakest access point."
Vera tightened her cloak. “We have to get back."
Carlisle turned sharply. “No. You just cut the bond. You're free."
She glared. “Freedom doesn't mean running."
