CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I slip into Ezra's office, the scent of authority hanging heavy in the air. Logan's already there, shoulders back, hands clasped behind him. Henry hovers by the door, his nervousness a stark contrast to Logan's confident poise.
"Where is this scholar?" I ask, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my stomach.
Ezra doesn't look up from the ancient map spread across his desk. "Northeast," he says, tracing a path with a fingertip. "Through the city's veil and into the wilds. You will feel the shift."
"Days?" Logan prompts, eager as always to get moving.
"Three days on foot once you get to where cars can’t go." Ezra finally meets our gazes, his own eyes like molten silver. "Two if you push through the nights."
"Are we expecting trouble?" Henry's question hangs in t
