The amber light of the altar bathed the chamber in a perpetual, sunset-hued twilight, stripping the passage of time of all meaning. Malphas and Lyra sat motionless, their hands fused to the living stone of the map, their heartbeats synchronized with the rhythmic thrum of Oakhaven far above. Days had blurred into a seamless stretch of sensory overload. They felt the city breathe, dream, and tremble.
"The northern ward is restless," Lyra whispered, her eyes closed. She didn't need to see the map to feel the spike of anxiety rippling through the city’s inhabitants. "A fire in the bakery. They are frightened, Malphas. They feel the ground move and they don't understand why."
"They don't need to understand," Malphas replied, his voice sounding hollow, like a stone shifting in a deep well. "Th
