The cellar was silent, except for the scratching of the Apostate's inkless quill against the dry parchment. The air here is filled with the smell of old paper and a damp, earthy scent.
Kai stood in the center of the room, his boots dripping sewer muck onto a faded rug. He looked at the blindfolded man.
"How do you know my name, old man? I haven't been in this city for ten years."
The Apostate stopped writing. He laid the quill down with a precision that is impossible for a blind man.
"The Church keeps records of every Heart guard, Kai. You are a torch they lit and then lost in the woods. They have been waiting for you to flicker out so they could come collect the charcoal."
"He is dying," Elara interrupted, stepping forward.
She pointed to Kai's arm. The blue thing had turned into a hard, crystalline frost that made his skin look like translucent glass.
"Kaelen said you could fix the shackle. Fix the arm."
The apostate stood up. He was taller than he looked, his frame gaunt but steady. He walked toward Kai; his movements were fluid despite the blindfold.
He reached out a grey, withered hand and touched Kai's frozen elbow.
Kai let out a sharp hiss of breath. The touch was a searing, white hot needle of sensation that shot straight to his heart. The Red inside him roared in response, a flash of orange light illuminating the dark cellar.
"The shackle is a parasite," the Apostate whispered, his fingers tracing the white steel on Kai's wrist. "It is drinking from you to power the towers above. To remove it without snapping your nervous system, I need a Null-Key. The Church keeps them in the archives of the High Cathedral."
"You want us to rob the Cathedral?" Kai asked, his voice a low rumble. "I can't even lift my sword, and the city is crawling with Van's guards."
"I don't want you to rob them," the Apostate said, turning his blindfolded face toward Miri. The girl flinched, but she didn't look away.
"I want you to show them what happens when the bait stops running. If you don't get that key, the frost will reach your hearth by dawn, and you will become a statue for the pigeons to sit on."
Miri stepped closer to Kai, her hand touching the hilt of the massive blade on his back.
"I will go," she said.
Kai laughed; a dry, hacking sound. "You are a child. They will catch you before you cross the street."
"They are not looking for me," Miri said, her eyes firm. "To them, I am just another harmless orphan. I can move through the vents. Elara has the maps. You just…you just stay alive."
Kai looked at his blue arm, then at the girl. The hero in him wanted to say no. The survivor knew she was right . he looked at the Apostate.
"If she goes, and she doesn't come back..I will burn this cellar with you in it."
"A fair bargain," the Apostate replied. He reached into his desk and pulled out a small, heavy vial of dark liquid.
"Give this to the girl. It is shadow oil. It won't hide her from the eyes of the strong, but it will hide her from the towers. To the machines, she will be a ghost."
Kai handed the vial to Elara.
The Apostate's cellar felt smaller as Elara and Miri prepared to leave. The blind man sat back at his desk, his inkless quill beginning its rhythmic scratching once more.
Kai sat on a crate, his left arm resting on a stone ledge. The blue frost was no longer just a color; it was physical weight, making his shoulder ache with a bone-deep cold.
Elara checked her handgun one last time, her face set in a grim mask. She looked at Kai.
"If the bells ring three times, it means we have been caught. If that happens, don't wait for us. Use whatever fire you have left to get out of the city."
Kai didn't look at her or he couldn't look. The guilt of sending a child into the mouth of the Church was a different kind of rot, one that the Red couldn't burn away.
"Just bring the key," he muttered.
Miri stepped up to him. She reached out and touched the cold, blue skin of his hand. Her fingers were warm; frighteningly warm compared to the ice in his veins. She leaned in and whispered into his ear.
"I saw Hearth in my dream, Kai. It wasn't broken. It was just…waiting?"
Before Kai could ask what she meant, they were gone, slipping through the foundation crack and back into the dark veins of the city. The cellar was suddenly too quiet.
"She is a strange one," the Apostate said, not looking up from his parchment. "Most children of this age are born with grey souls. Hers is…vibrannt. That is why the crows are so hungry for her."
"Tell me about the Mark," Kai said, a dry, hoarse voice. He needed a distraction from the silence.
"You said the Church lit me like a torch, why me? Why any of us?"
The Apostate stopped writing. He leaned back, his blindfold reflecting the dim orange light.
"The world is a dying fire, Kai. The sun is a cold cinder. The Church discovered that certain souls, souls with enough rage, or grief, or sheer will, can act as tethers to the First Ember.
They Scourge you to create a bridge. You aren't a hero; you are a lightning rod. You draw the heat from the Void so the city can have one more hour of light."
"And when the rod melts?" Kai asked.
"They replace it," the Apostate replied simply. "But you…you are different. Your Mark is not just a bridge. It is a fragment. The Shepherd of Crows didn't want to kill you, Kai. He wanted to harvest you. If void beasts get a Hearth Guard; it doesn't just put out the fire. It learns how to eat the sun."
Kai looked at his blue hand. He felt the Red pulsing deep inside, a trapped animal screaming to be let out. He realized now that his survival wasn't just about his own life.
If he fell, he was giving the enemy the keys to the world.