Ezra traced the inked lines on the map with his eyes, his mind piecing together the impossible.
The layout of Eldenwald was familiar, yet wrongcertain streets where there should be none, locations he recognized marked as missing, erased, forgotten.
And at the center of it all, a place he had never seen, never heard of. A name that twisted uncomfortably in his thoughts the longer he stared at it.
Hallowmere Cross.
It wasnt on any official record. Not in the Ministrys archives, not in city plans, not in anything he had ever come across before. But Crowne had circled it, underlined it, scrawled notes beside it.
"A convergence point. An anchor. The first thread in the unraveling."
Ezra exhaled slowly.
Youve been gone for two weeks, he said, keeping his voice level. And instead of explaining where youve been, youre showing me a map of places that dont exist.
Crowne smiled faintly, that same unreadable amusement playing at the edges of his expression. That depends on what you mean by exist.
Ezra leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. You dont get to dance around this. People have died, Crowne. People are still dying. His voice didnt rise, but the weight behind it sharpened. What the hell is happening in this city?
Crowne regarded him for a long moment, as if deciding just how much truth to share. Then he tapped the map again, fingers lingering over Hallowmere Cross.
There are places in this world, he murmured, that refuse to stay where they belong. Locations that shift, appear and disappear, bending themselves to the will of something older than memory. His gaze flickered up, meeting Ezras. And there are people who understand this better than most.
Ezras fingers curled slightly. The Ministry.
Crowne shook his head. No. A pause. Something older.
Ezras stomach tightened. Who?
Crowne leaned back slightly. Youve seen them, havent you? The ones that move when the light flickers? The names that shouldnt be remembered? The shadows that dont quite belong to their owners?
Ezras pulse remained steady. Ive seen enough.
Crowne exhaled, his gaze turning distant for a moment. Then he reached for a small leather-bound journal resting beside the map, flipping through the pages before sliding it toward Ezra.
Inside, scrawled in careful script, was a single name.
"The Veilkeepers."
Ezra frowned. The word sent a strange discomfort curling in his chestlike something forgotten, something misplaced, just out of reach.
He looked up. Who are they?
Crowne studied him. Then
Theyre the reason Im still alive.
Ezras jaw tightened. And the reason others arent?
A flicker of something passed through Crownes expressionacknowledgment, maybe even regret. But he didnt deny it.
Ezra exhaled, flipping the journal closed. Fine, he said. Then take me to them.
Crowne didnt hesitate.
Tomorrow night, he said. At Hallowmere Cross.
Ezras fingers twitched.
A place that didnt exist.
A faction that wasnt supposed to be real.
And somehow, he already knew he was going to find them.
Or worse
They had already found him.