The moment Elizabeth stepped out from the sacred chamber beneath Ironholt, the evening air sliced across her skin like the warning breath of a storm. Clouds gathered above the cliffs in bruised purples and grey, casting long shadows over the ancient stone paths leading back to the fortress. She didn’t speak at first. Neither did her companions. They all felt it was the shift. The power of the Crown of Echoes now pulsed from her satchel, wrapped carefully in lunar silk, and yet it beat like a second heart.
Kael broke the silence. “We need to move. Whatever dark whispers slumbered here, they’ll have stirred.”
Elizabeth nodded, her eyes fixed on the narrowing horizon. “We’re not alone anymore. Someone was watching.”
They rode hard back toward the summit chamber, the open courtyard atop Iro
