Salt Fell Proper was not just quiet as they walked.
It listened.
Every footstep made a sound too slight for the ear but too heavy for instinct to ignore; salt shifting, crystals grinding beneath the crust, like teeth settling in preparation.
The group traveled deeper along the middle path, canal walls rising on either side like the ribs of something ancient. The farther they went, the more the air changed: thicker, warmer, humming with an almost inaudible vibration that worked its way into Sol's bones.
It was like walking through a memory that had not yet decided whether to welcome or attack them.
Ji Ming's gaze moved constantly; checking rooftops, alleys, the strange slanted geometry of Salt Fell's buildings. His steps were silent, controlled. Only Sol, attuned to him through resonance, felt the subtle rise of tension beneath his calm.
"It feels narrower," she said quietly.
"Because it is," Ya Zhen replied. "The inner wards weren't built for comfort. They were built to channel water. Now they channel absence."
Sol touched the wall lightly as she passed. The surface was cool but not smooth. Tiny crystals clung to the stone like frost, and when she pulled her hand away, each particle glowed faintly before dulling again.
The city remembers touch, she realized. Just not the kind that warms it.
Ahead, the path forked around a collapsed building. Ji Ming lifted a hand, signaling a halt.
The Mirrorborn stopped instantly, posture mirroring Ji Ming's… still, alert, head tilting slightly.
"What do you hear?" Sol asked.
He didn't answer immediately.
Then: "Wind."
Ya Zhen raised a brow. "Here?"
"Exactly," Ji Ming said.
Salt Fell Proper was not a windy place. The heavy air trapped sound and movement like damp fabric.
But now, a faint current brushed past them… a whispering draft that carried not coolness but a dry sting, as if a room somewhere had exhaled for the first time in years.
"Coming from over the ridge," Ji Ming murmured.
Ya Zhen closed her eyes, feeling for the direction. When she opened them again, the playful sharpness was gone.
"That isn't wind," she said. "It's breath."
Sol's stomach tightened. "The tower?"
"No. Something smaller."
"A person?" Ji Ming asked.
"A presence," Ya Zhen corrected. "Reflected, fractured… human-shaped, but not human."
The Mirrorborn's hood turned slightly toward Sol. The faint glow in its chest brightened and dimmed in rapid pulses, uneven and frightened.
"…wrong…" it whispered. "…wrong… close…"
Ji Ming stepped in front of it instinctively. "Is it another Mirrorborn?"
Ya Zhen shook her head slowly. "No. This one feels sharper. More focused. Less… alive."
Sol's breath hitched.
"Mirror Division," she whispered.
Ji Ming's jaw tightened. "A scout."
But Ya Zhen lifted a hand.
"No. Scout squads are loud. Efficient, but loud. Whatever this is… it's moving alone. More like a shadow than a soldier."
Ji Ming stilled. "Then it's not a scout."
"No." Ya Zhen's voice dropped further. "It's an Inquisitor."
Sol felt every muscle in her body tighten.
Inquisitors were the Mirror Division's silent hunters, the ones trained not to kill reflections, but to dismantle people who had been touched by them. They rarely traveled in daylight. They never traveled in pairs.
"If it's an Inquisitor," Ji Ming said, "it already knows someone is here."
"Not who," Ya Zhen said. "Not yet. The inner wards distort resonance. For now, we're a noise in the salt."
Sol swallowed, her heartbeat quickening.
"What do we do?" she whispered.
Ya Zhen looked at the Mirrorborn.
"It will sense him first. He's too different. Too unanchored."
The Mirrorborn curled inward, light spasming in its chest.
"…not… hide…" it murmured.
"You can," Sol said softly. "We'll help you."
Ji Ming pulled back into the shadow of a leaning wall. "We don't run. Running confirms we are prey. We move like residents. Slow. Ordinary. No resonance unless necessary."
Ya Zhen gave a sharp, humorless smile. "You would make a decent courier, Sky Wolf."
He ignored her.
Sol adjusted her cloak, pulse steadying as she moved. She forced her breathing into the same calm rhythm Ji Ming had used in the basin, making her presence small.
The Mirrorborn copied her exactly—shoulders lowered, chin bowed, steps soft as falling sand.
They began to walk again.
For a few moments, everything was quiet.
Then—
A faint, metallic click.
Sol froze.
Ji Ming's hand brushed hers… a warning. Don't move yet.
Another click. Soft. Deliberate.
Ya Zhen leaned just enough to see around a broken pillar. Her eyes widened a fraction.
"A resonance anchor," she murmured. "He's marking a grid."
Ji Ming's voice was barely breath. "If he completes a full circle, he'll see every anomaly inside it."
And they had at least three:
Sol.
The bond.
The Mirrorborn.
Sol's mind raced. "We need to break the grid before he finishes."
Ya Zhen shook her head. "Break it and he'll feel the disruption. He'll come straight for the strongest resonance."
Meaning Sol.
Ji Ming stepped forward a fraction. "Then we intercept him before he completes the circle."
"Not with blades," Ya Zhen warned. "Inquisitors don't duel. They unmake. Their techniques target qi directly."
"Then we avoid his qi."
"Impossible."
Sol swallowed. "Not impossible."
Ji Ming turned to her.
"Sol—"
"Lotus Mirror Hand," she whispered. "It can redirect resonance as well as force. If I catch his anchor pulse before it completes, I can scatter the circle's energy. He'll think it failed naturally."
Ya Zhen looked at her long and hard.
"That is not a beginner's technique," she said. "And not meant for arenas. If you misdirect an Inquisitor's anchor, the backlash could—"
"...cut my meridians," Sol finished. "Yes. I know."
Ji Ming's voice sharpened. "Then we don't do it."
She turned fully toward him, eyes steady despite the fear tightening her chest.
"If we don't do it," she said softly, "he will find the Mirrorborn first."
Silence.
Ji Ming's jaw worked once… anger, fear, calculation.
Then: "I won't let you stand alone."
"You won't be," she said. "But I have to take the pulse first."
Ya Zhen nodded reluctantly. "I'll mask us from the sides. Ji Ming, cover her back."
"I always do."
The Mirrorborn touched Sol's sleeve; tentative, trembling.
"…hurt…?" it asked.
"Not if I'm careful," Sol whispered.
"…careful…" it echoed, trying to steady its light.
Then the air shifted.
A faint ripple. A pulse of cold sliding across the salt.
The first anchor point activated.
Sol's eyes widened. "He's starting the circle."
Ji Ming lifted both blades, the cloth-wrapped hilts silent in his grip. Ya Zhen raised her fan, sigils glowing faintly along the ribs.
Sol closed her eyes.
The city went silent: utterly, reverently.
She felt it then, the next anchor pulse.
A flicker of bright, sharp resonance racing along the salt, trying to draw a perfect arc.
She reached.
Redirected.
Bent the path by two degrees.
The city held its breath.
"Again," Ji Ming whispered.
The second pulse came.
Sol caught it.
Turned it.
Scattered it.
Her chest burned with the strain.
Ya Zhen's fan flared, shielding the Mirrorborn from the tail end of the energy. The creature whimpered but remained still.
The third pulse.
Sol braced.
Caught.
Misaligned.
A sharp snap tore through the air.
Ji Ming's hand closed around her arm instantly, steadying her.
"Sol—!"
But she shook her head, teeth clenched. "Not broken… just loud…"
Ya Zhen hissed, "He heard that."
A shadow moved across the far rooftop.
Not rushed.
Not startled.
Calm.
Inquisitor calm.
Ji Ming shifted into stance.
Sol steadied her breath.
Ya Zhen's fan opened with a soft, deadly snap.
The Mirrorborn pressed itself behind Sol, light flickering fast.
The shadow turned its head toward them, slowly, like someone adjusting a mask.
A low, ringed voice carried across the salt:
"…anomalies detected."
Then the figure stepped off the roof.
And began to walk toward them.