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Chapter 71 – Ghosts on the Water
The moon had begun its descent when silence settled again over the river crossing, broken only by the gentle slosh of black water beneath the ancient stone bridge. The dead and dying lay scattered like discarded truths—silent, grim, unmourned. Smoke curled from the shattered lantern, curling like fingers toward the stars.
Kairo stood over the captured man, his blade glinting faintly in the moonlight, eyes unreadable.
"Get up," he ordered.
The man's lip was split, one eye already swelling shut. But still, he smiled—blood-stained and defiant. "You're chasing ghosts, Lord of the Hollow. He's already moved on."
Kairo didn't blink. "Then I'll find his shadow."
Behind him, Elira emerged from the tree line, leading the wounded courier she'd taken down. He stumbled, hands bound, cursing softly under his breath. She shoved him forward with the hilt of her dagger, never once taking her eyes off the forest beyond.
"They came light," she said. "Minimal escort. No sigils on the wagons, no visible emblems. They were expecting speed, not resistance."
"They were expecting Lysander," Kairo murmured.
He turned back to the man on his knees. "Where was the shard supposed to go?"
The man hesitated, the flicker of resistance still burning in his eyes.
Kairo crouched, voice low, almost gentle. "Do you think you're protecting something noble? Vale wouldn't even remember your name."
A heartbeat passed.
Then another.
Finally, the man swallowed and muttered, "The Shaded Harbor. West of Aeralis. There's a ship."
Kairo's eyes narrowed. "Name."
The man shook his head. "It doesn't have one. Just a mark. Black sails. No flags."
Elira exhaled sharply. "That's a smuggler's port. The kind no map names."
Kairo stood, his jaw tightening. "Then that's where we go."
A long silence followed, broken only by the rustle of trees and the low hiss of the river.
"Kairo," Elira said quietly, stepping close. "If they're sending the shard across the sea… we may not get another chance."
"I know." His gaze swept across the dark river and the broken bridge, his voice tightening. "We let this vanish into the west, and we lose everything. Lysander was just the hand. This… this is the vein."
He turned to the guards he'd brought. "Burn the wagons. Leave nothing the crows can recognize. Then return to the Hollow and wait for my signal. We move alone from here."
Elira arched a brow. "You trust them not to talk?"
Kairo's answer was simple. "They fear me more than they respect the council."
Together, they moved into the shadows beyond the bridge, traveling west through frost-laced woods and marsh, deeper into the teeth of winter and the secrets it guarded.
But neither of them noticed the raven that followed.
---
The woods grew darker as they pushed west, the trees older and closer, gnarled roots knotting across the path like skeletal fingers. The moon had sunk behind a veil of cloud, and the only sound was the crunch of their boots on frostbitten soil and the soft panting of their horses.
Elira broke the silence first. "You trust the name he gave us?"
"No," Kairo answered, eyes scanning the underbrush. "But we don't need to. We follow the pattern. That's what they never hide."
"The pattern?"
"Smuggling routes," he said, ducking under a branch. "No matter how well they try to change faces, hands, or ciphers, they still use the same paths. Ports like Shaded Harbor don't exist on maps because they never needed to. They thrive on silence. That silence always costs someone blood."
Elira rode a little closer. "You think Vale will be there?"
"I think someone who answers to him will be." His voice turned colder. "And I think they're expecting Lysander to deliver that shard."
Elira touched the satchel strapped across her back. The metal case inside it seemed to hum faintly, almost like a heartbeat. She hadn't said anything, but it had begun after nightfall—barely audible, barely there. As if the shard inside the case wasn't asleep anymore.
"We shouldn't keep this too close for long," she said quietly. "It's waking up."
Kairo nodded. "We'll deal with that after the harbor. Right now, we use it to draw them out."
They reached the edge of a ravine by dawn. Below lay a frozen stream, splitting the land like an old scar. Beyond that, the path curved into the low hills, where smoke curled thinly from a distant cluster of trees—too far from any village, too small for any real settlement.
Elira narrowed her eyes. "That's a signal fire."
Kairo slid from his horse. "Scouts."
He crouched behind a boulder, motioning for Elira to do the same. Two figures emerged from the trees, speaking in hushed tones as they passed along a narrow trail. Both wore unmarked leathers, but their posture—too stiff, too alert—marked them as trained.
One held a curved blade. The other carried a glass vial tucked visibly at his hip.
"Elira," Kairo murmured. "You take the left. Quietly."
She didn't respond with words—just a sharp nod. She vanished into the underbrush like breath disappearing in cold air.
Kairo waited.
Seconds passed. A bird shifted in the trees above. A branch cracked underfoot.
Then—movement.
Elira swept low, striking the first scout behind the knees. He dropped with a grunt as she clamped a hand over his mouth and drove her dagger into his side. The second turned too late. Kairo slammed him against a tree with his forearm before the man could cry out.
"Talk," Kairo growled, twisting the man's wrist until bone popped.
The man spat blood. "You're not supposed to be here."
"Neither are you."
"Too late," he hissed. "The ship comes at dusk. If it sees trouble, it doesn't dock."
Kairo's eyes narrowed. "Then we make sure it never sees us."
He drove his fist into the man's temple. The body went limp.
They dragged both scouts off the trail and stripped them of gear—maps, encrypted coins, one glass vial filled with dark powder, another with a pale, glowing resin.
Elira held up the glowing vial. "This is from the eastern mines. Forbidden even among black market circles."
Kairo inspected it. "Which means whatever's coming in on that ship is worth more than just silver. They're trading in something else."
"Blood. Or power." Elira tucked the vial away. "Usually both."
Kairo unrolled the map one of the scouts carried. It was drawn in scratchy lines, rough but precise—dock layout, guard shifts, even tide schedules. He tapped the western bluff overlooking the inlet.
"We wait here. And when the ship comes—we intercept the handoff. No noise. No mistake."
---
By nightfall, the fog had returned, dragging itself across the harbor like a living thing. The sea moaned softly beyond the rocks, a low and mournful sound.
From their perch above the harbor, Kairo and Elira watched the cove below come to life. Lanterns winked on, masked by thick canvas shields. A few men moved quickly across the dock—loading crates, rolling barrels, and signaling silently to the waves.
Then, cutting through the mist, came the ship.
It was sleek. Silent. Its sails were black, stitched with no emblem. It made no sound as it docked—only a soft scrape of hull against wood.
The crew was minimal—five men, no more. All masked. One stepped forward, carrying something under his cloak. He gestured, and a man from the harbor approached with an identical movement.
Kairo felt the shift in the air.
"That's the second shard," he said. "Look."
Elira followed his gaze. The man on the ship had removed a small black case, nearly identical to theirs. In his hand, he held a sliver of obsidian glass—like the one they had recovered from Lysander.
"They're pairing it," Elira whispered. "Unlocking something together."
"Not if we stop them."
Kairo .
Elira's hand closed around his arm. "One chance. No second try."
"I know."
And then, without another word, they descended into the mist.
---
The mist thickened as they descended the bluff, wrapping the world in silence. Every step muffled under layers of damp earth and dead leaves. The dock below flickered with the lantern glow of unseen hands—workers and watchers, all faceless in the haze.
Kairo and Elira moved as ghosts through the fog, cloaks drawn tight, blades hidden beneath folds of shadow. They'd left their horses tethered deep in the woods. Down here, weight and noise could betray more than a hundred soldiers.
As they neared the edge of the clearing, Kairo raised his hand. Elira froze beside him.
Beneath the dock, voices murmured—muted, clipped. A language not spoken in the Hollow.
"Elira," he breathed. "Listen to that accent."
She tilted her head. Her eyes widened slightly. "Western archipelago. Far beyond Vale's hold. We're not just dealing with his agents anymore."
"Outsiders," Kairo muttered. "Foreign hands. Which means Vale's reach is longer than we thought."
From the dock above, a dull thump—wood on wood. Then metal locks sliding into place.
"They've made the handoff," Elira whispered.
"No," Kairo said, watching the shadows carefully. "They've only just begun."
Above, the cloaked captain of the ship held out the obsidian shard again. The harbor man took it reverently, kneeling as he brought it close to the case. A low hum vibrated the air—so low it was more pressure than sound. Even from their distance, Kairo and Elira could feel it deep in their bones.
The mist curled tighter around the dock like it too was listening.
Then a thin seam appeared in the center of the box.
The shard slid inward, locking into place.
A light—cold, violet-blue—bled from the edges of the case. The captain of the ship stepped back, hand raised.
Something inside the box stirred.
Kairo's hand gripped Elira's arm. "Now."
They moved.
Like twin daggers, they darted from the mist—Kairo to the right flank of the dock, Elira to the crates stacked near the boarding ramp. There was no warning—no shout—until Kairo's blade slid through the first man's ribs and sent him crashing into the sea.
Chaos broke loose.
Elira vaulted over the crates, striking fast and low, her dagger flashing in and out of throats and wrists before they could react. The harbor workers scattered, panicking—untrained, unarmed.
But the cloaked men on the ship? They didn't run.
The captain shouted something—sharp and foreign—and two figures moved forward, drawing curved, rune-scorched blades.
"Elira!" Kairo called, ducking beneath a wild slash. "Box—take the box!"
She dove toward the deck where the opened case still glowed, the shard humming like a storm trapped inside glass. One of the masked guards intercepted her, blade raised.
But Elira didn't slow.
She caught the edge of a broken lantern, flung it toward his face. The oil caught against his cloak, igniting in a whoosh of flame. He screamed and dropped his sword—too late to stop her as she leapt past and snatched the case.
As soon as her fingers closed around it, the humming stopped.
Just—silence.
Every figure on the dock froze. Even the captain's breath caught audibly in the air.
Kairo struck then, his blade flashing with brutal force. One of the ship's guards staggered back, clutching his gut. The other ran for the boarding ramp.
"Don't let him signal!" Elira shouted, pointing toward the captain, who had pulled a small silver device from beneath his cloak.
Kairo hurled his dagger across the dock.
It struck the man's forearm, knocking the device into the sea.
The captain let out a sharp cry—part pain, part fury—and lunged toward Elira, who now clutched both shards, one in each hand. The box she'd taken had locked itself shut again.
"I warned you," he snarled.
Elira's smile was razor-sharp. "You should've listened."
She kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling onto the wooden boards. Kairo reached her side, pulling her behind him just as more shouts rose from the treeline—reinforcements.
"Too many," Elira muttered, gripping the box tight. "We can't hold the dock."
"We don't need to," Kairo said. "We just need to burn it."
He turned and drove his sword into a barrel of lantern oil, dragging it out over the deck. The liquid spilled fast—faster than the guards could react.
Elira dropped the captain with a final blow to the skull, then lit a torch from a fallen lantern.
Kairo looked at her.
"Ready?" he asked.
She nodded. "Burn it."
The torch hit the oil.
Flames erupted in a violent plume, racing across the dock toward the ship. Fire climbed the ropes, caught the sails. Screams filled the night as the ship's crew fled—some diving into the cold black water, others engulfed in smoke.
Elira and Kairo ran.
They didn't look back until the forest swallowed them, flames chasing them like the breath of a dying beast.
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