Torian practically dragged me through the winding corridors back up to the main level of the Shadowkeep. His usual royal composure was replaced by urgent, focused determination. We found Morwyn and Faelar waiting by the front doors.
“Report,” Torian ordered, before the doors had even closed behind us.
“Lysandra is still secured, still largely unresponsive,” Morwyn stated, her face grim. “But Faelar was able to confirm the temporal readings from the old archives. There is a clear residual displacement behind the eastern wall.”
Valerius spoke the truth.
“Valerius spoke of betrayal,” I revealed, voice soft as I pulled my cloak tighter around me. “He claims that the end comes from within, citing a man close to the king, a man who desperately wanted Lysandra executed, not interrogated.”
