They woke with the taste of mirrors on their tongues.
The hollow where they’d fallen after memory spat them back out felt smaller now, as if the ridge had drawn closer to hear what they would say next. The broken Black Lattice lay below like a dead spider, its iron legs splayed, its silver web collapsed into glittering dust across the valley floor. Dawn had burned to noon. No knives walked the ridges. The air, for once, allowed birds.
Lena tested her breath. It held. The white ring beneath her skin—the half-written circle the Lattice had tried to brand into her sternum—throbbed dull, not sharp. Her crowns hung low and obedient, not tugging at her spine for blood or thunder. She felt… not free. Not chained. Steady.
Dominic crouched beside her, forearms braced on his knees, eyes rimmed re
