The voice came from beyond the Vale arch, low and roughened by disuse.
“She took more than memory.”
Cassian drew his sword before the last word had faded. Taren and Lysa moved with him, lanterns raised, their bodies forming a narrow shield between Zinnia and the darkness.
Nothing emerged.
The chamber held its breath.
Zinnia stared through the archway, but the light reached only a short distance before being swallowed. The air beyond carried the faint scent of old incense and damp stone.
“Show yourself,” Cassian said.
A quiet laugh answered him.
“You always did mistake command for courage.”
Cassian’s grip tightened around the sword. “Who are you?”
The shadows shifted.
A man stepped into the lantern light wearing the remains of temple robes. The white fabric had yellowed with age
