The following nights in Velria grew colder, though the season had not changed. Alex felt it every time he walked the streets with Serah—an unnatural chill clinging to the stones, to the shadows. A silence heavy enough to smother even the bravest of guards.
Rumors spread quickly now. Whole households gone overnight. Children vanishing from orphanages. Merchants abandoning their wagons in broad daylight, their eyes hollow and empty before they disappeared.
Velria smiled in daylight. But in the dark, it bled.
On the third night of his investigation, Serah arrived at his inn cloaked in gray. Her face was grim.
"I've found it," she whispered as soon as the door closed. "The trail doesn't end at the alleys. It leads below."
Alex raised a brow. "Below?"
"Velria's sewers," she confirmed. "There's a section sealed off from the public. I bribed a clerk to show me old maps. There's a network of tunnels not listed in the modern records."
