The inspection came without warning.
We'd been back at the Cracked Bell for two days, organizing the evidence we'd gathered, mapping out Maros Welle's courier routes, planning our next move. I'd just finished transcribing another section of the intercepted ledger when Joss burst through the door.
"Palace guards," he said. "Downstairs. They're asking for you."
My hand went to my sword. "How many?"
"Six. Full armor. They say it's routine, that all visitors to the city carrying official documents need to register with the Crown's secretariat."
"That's not routine."
"I know."
I crossed to the window and looked down. Six guards in imperial colors stood in the courtyard, their officer speaking with the innkeeper. Professional. Calm. Not an arrest, then. At least not yet.
"Where's the folio?" I asked.
"Hidden. Second floorboard under the bed."
"Good. Keep it there. I'll handle this."
I walked downstairs, Joss a step behind me. The guards turned when I entered the courtyard, their officer stepping forward.
"Captain Halvar?"
"Yes."
"I'm Lieutenant Corren, palace guard. We're conducting routine inspections of all official documents brought into Cerasis. Crown security, you understand. I'll need to see any sealed reports, correspondence, or materials you're carrying."
"I'm a Warden on Crown business. My documents are sealed."
"Then we'll inspect the seals to ensure they haven't been tampered with. Standard procedure, Captain. Nothing to be concerned about." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Unless you have something to hide?"
I held his gaze. Refusing would confirm their suspicions. Complying meant letting them see at least part of what we had.
"Wait here," I said.
I went back upstairs, pulled a few older reports from my pack, nothing critical, and brought them down. The lieutenant examined each one, turning them over, checking the seals, making notes on a small ledger.
"These are all several months old," he said.
"I've been on the road for weeks. I haven't had time to update them."
"And the report you're carrying to the Crown? The one about the border raids?"
So they knew. Someone had told them.
"It's in transit to the appropriate office," I said carefully.
"I'll need to see it."
"It's not here."
"Where is it?"
"With a courier. Being delivered to the magistrate's office for review before it goes to the Emperor."
The lie came easily. Too easily. But Corren didn't challenge it. He made another note in his ledger, then handed the reports back to me.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Captain. If we need to follow up, we'll be in touch."
He signaled to his men, and they left. I watched them go, my pulse loud in my ears.
Joss appeared at my elbow. "They're checking to see what we have."
"And now they think it's already in the magistrate's office. That buys us time, but not much."
"Someone told them we're here. Someone told them about the folio."
"Edrin."
"You think he'd betray you already? You just made a deal with him."
"I think he's testing me. Seeing how I react, what I'm willing to risk." I turned back toward the inn. "We need to move the folio. Tonight. Somewhere they won't think to look."
"Where?"
I thought about it. The palace was out. The magistrate's office was compromised. The courier stations were being watched. We needed somewhere secure, somewhere unexpected.
"Sael's lodgings," I said. "He's been quiet since the wedding. No one's watching him closely yet. We hide it there until we're ready to present it."
Joss nodded. "I'll get it ready."
We moved the folio after midnight, wrapped in oilcloth and tucked into a travel pack that looked like ordinary luggage. Sael's rooms were in the merchant district, a modest building that didn't draw attention. He answered the door on the second knock, his expression wary.
"Captain. It's late."
"I need a favor."
He stepped aside and let us in. The room was neat, furnished simply, with a desk covered in papers and a window overlooking the street. Maps on the walls, trade manifests stacked on a side table. The workspace of someone who dealt in information.
I set the pack on the table. "The palace guard came by today. They're looking for the folio. I need somewhere to hide it until we're ready to present the evidence."
Sael opened the pack and looked inside. "You're trusting me with this?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice, Captain. But yes, I'll keep it safe." He rewrapped the folio carefully. "How long?"
"A few days. Maybe a week. I need to finish mapping Maros Welle's network, connect the final pieces. Once I have enough to prove ministerial involvement, we go to Edrin with everything."
"And you think Edrin will protect you?"
"I think he'll protect himself. And right now, our interests align."
Sael studied me for a long moment. "You're learning. That's good. But be careful, Captain. The closer you get to the truth, the more dangerous this becomes. People have died for less than what you're carrying."
"I know."
"Do you?" He crossed to the window and looked out at the dark street. "I've been in Cerasis a long time. I've seen good people try to change things, try to fight corruption, try to hold the powerful accountable. Most of them are dead. The rest are broken."
"I won't break."
"Everyone breaks eventually. The question is whether you break before or after you finish what you started."
I didn't have an answer for that.
Sael turned back to face me. "There's something else you should know. I've been hearing rumors. Talk in the merchant circles about increased activity on the border. Not raids. Something else. Movement. Supplies being stockpiled. Troops being repositioned."
"Whose troops?"
"That's the question. Could be the houses preparing for something. Could be the Crown. Could be something from outside the realm entirely." He paused. "Or it could be nothing. Just nervous merchants seeing threats that aren't there."
"You don't believe that."
"No. I don't." He walked to the desk and pulled out a map, spreading it across the surface. "Look here. These are the trade routes near the eastern border. Over the past month, three major shipments have been delayed. Not raided. Delayed. As if someone's controlling the flow of goods."
"Why would they do that?"
"To create scarcity. To drive up prices. To make people desperate." He tapped the map. "Or to clear the routes for something else. Something that needs to move without being seen."
I leaned over the map, studying the marked routes. They ran parallel to the border, close enough to be vulnerable but not close enough to be obviously military targets.
"You think someone's preparing for war," I said.
"I think someone's preparing for something. War, coup, invasion, I don't know. But the pieces are moving, Captain. And you're caught in the middle of it."
"Then I need to move faster."
"Be careful. Fast and reckless are close cousins."
I straightened and picked up the empty pack. "Keep the folio safe. I'll be back in a few days."
"I will. And Captain?" He waited until I met his gaze. "Thank you. For trusting me."
I nodded and left, Joss following close behind.
As we walked back through the empty streets, I thought about troops and supplies and borders I'd never seen. About wars that might be coming and the pieces I couldn't see yet.
The conspiracy was bigger than Rothera. Bigger than corrupt ministers and payment networks.
And I was only beginning to understand how deep it went.
The next morning, I went back to the warehouse.
The stone was exactly where I'd left it, but when I pulled it loose, the hollow space was empty. No instructions. No new messages.
Maros Welle had changed his drop point.
I replaced the stone and stood, scanning the area. He knew we were watching. He'd adjusted his network, shifted his patterns. Which meant we were running out of time.
I walked back to the river and found a courier station, a small building where runners gathered to collect assignments. I waited across the street, watching the flow of people, looking for the markers Darrik had described.
It took two hours, but I saw it. A runner with a fox emblem pressed into his satchel clasp. He entered the station, stayed less than five minutes, and left heading north.
I followed.
He moved through the merchant district, past shops and stalls, into a section of warehouses near the river. He turned down an alley, and I quickened my pace, closing the distance.
He disappeared around a corner. When I reached it, he was gone.
But there was a door. Old wood, unmarked, set into the side of a warehouse. I tried the handle. Locked.
I knelt and examined the frame. Fresh scratches around the lock. Recently used. Frequently used.
This was it. One of Maros's safe houses.
I stood and memorized the location, marking the surrounding buildings, the turns I'd taken to get here. Then I walked back the way I'd come, slow and deliberate, making sure no one was following.
When I reached the Cracked Bell, I found Joss and Maer in the common room.
"I found one of his locations," I said. "A warehouse near the river. He's using it as a drop point or a meeting place."
"We stake it out?" Joss asked.
"Tonight. See who comes and goes. If we're lucky, Maros himself will show up."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we follow whoever does until they lead us to him."
Maer set down his cup. "This is getting more dangerous."
"It was always dangerous."
"You know what I mean. We're not just tracking evidence anymore. We're hunting someone who has resources, connections, people who will kill to protect him. If he realizes we're this close, he'll come for us."
"Let him try."
"Ryn." Maer's voice was low, urgent. "You can't fight everyone. Eventually, you're going to need to step back and let someone else take the risk."
"I'm a Warden. Risk is what I do."
"You're also human. And humans die when they push too hard."
I looked at him, at the worry in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders. He'd been saying versions of this for days now. Asking me to slow down, to be careful, to think about what came after.
But there was no after. Not yet. Not until this was finished.
"I'll be careful," I said.
"You won't. But I'll be there anyway."
He stood and walked upstairs, leaving me alone with Joss.
"He's not wrong," Joss said quietly.
"I know."
"Then why won't you listen?"
"Because if I stop, if I slow down, people keep dying. And I can't live with that."
Joss was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "You know what I think? I think you're afraid that if you stop, you'll realize how much this has cost you. And you're not ready to face that yet."
Maybe he was right.
Maybe I'd been running so hard for so long that I didn't know how to stand still anymore.
But I couldn't think about that now.
"We stake out the warehouse tonight," I said. "Be ready."
Joss nodded and stood. "Always am."
I sat alone in the common room and pulled out the Rothera token, turning it over in my fingers. The fox gleamed in the firelight, chains circling endlessly.
Somewhere in this city, Maros Welle was moving pieces.
And tonight, I was going to start moving mine.