Whispers of the crimson rose

k tighter, her breath misting in the frigid air. Solen led the way, his gait swift and focused, while Cassia

-dusted glens. Birds stirred in the canopy, but no song came. The woods were holding t

a city of masks. Nobles, spies, mercena

s shoulder. Which is

lking, Solen said, pausing by a hidden path covered in winter thorns. We're

row. A favor or a deb

visible yet, but the change in air said enough. The ground grew harder, the forest thinner. Magic

rs pierced the sky in t

ng skyward with black iron and glimmering glass. It was beautiful and

er. This city devours

hen I'll make sure

sser-known entrance a forgotten postern path carved beneath the cliff, cloaked by

, Solen muttered

ed below, hungry and endless. Cassian took

mouth. Solen bent low, muttered something in an old tongue

route, he said. S

them with chaos. Smoke curled from chimneys. Lanterns lit narrow alleys. Vendors barked at passersby. The air pulsed with music, shouting, and the stink of am

d streets until they reached a

ed with warmth and noise. Inside, the innkeeper, a wiry m

re supposed to be

ed with a t

n double-locked the door, then turned t

'm done running. If Ashreac

scream echoed-brief and

the Hollow, like a breath caught in the city's throat. Seraphina rushed to the window.

broken, sh

ad it across the room's floor, candlelight casting trembling shadows. The Black Archive, he said, tapping a spot near the heart of Ashre

your mother. The one who burned the Sanctum and framed

that name makes you a target for more than the empire

s fell l

ery back alley of the empire. Faceless. Deadly Powerb

nding. And why would they want

d in silk. Because your mot

l into stunn

ulsed. The city did

hive. Cassian reached for his blade. A