The second rule beyond the wall revealed itself at sunrise.
Being hunted was not the same as being chosen.
Lyra stood on the ridge overlooking the valley, the strip of marked cloth folded carefully in her palm. The symbol burned in her thoughts. Not because she recognized it—but because it had been placed with intention.
Whoever was out there hadn’t marked the outpost.
They had marked them.
Tyler joined her, boots quiet on stone.
“You haven’t moved,” he said.
“I’m counting,” Lyra replied.
“Counting what?”
“Seconds between sounds,” she said. “They’re letting us hear them.”
Tyler’s mouth tightened. “Control through anticipation.”
“Yes,” Lyra said. “Ronan likes fear. These people prefer certainty.”
That made them worse.
The scouts confirmed it before midday.
Movement along three
