Tai and Hirik were sprawled at the table, a map and a handful of papers between them. They both looked up when Evie and Kieran entered. Evie knew at once they could sense the mood on them, heavy and tangled. Hirik straightened in his seat. Tai set down the stylus he was twirling between his fingers.
"You two look like someone stole your kitten," Tai said, half-joking, half-serious.
Evie set her canvas carefully against the wall. She hesitated, glanced at Kieran, then stepped closer to the table. Her fingers worried at the edge of her sleeve.
"I need to tell you something," she said. "About Lucanis."
Tai and Hirik stiffened, a ripple of unease passing between them.
"It's not - he hasn't done anything to me," she said quickly. "Not like that. But... we've had a few encounters. Chance meetings."
Kieran stayed silent at her shoulder, but she could feel his quiet support like a brace.
Tai's brows furrowed, and Hirik's mouth parted slightly in shock. It wasn't the meetings that left them staring; it was the fact she hadn't told them.
"You didn't say anything," Hirik said, voice low. "Not a word."
"I know," Evie said, guilt thick in her throat. "I should have. I just- I thought it would pass. I thought I could keep it separate."
Tai rubbed a hand over his mouth, a rare gesture of visible frustration. He looked at her, studying her face in that infuriating, understanding way of his.
"How many times?"
"A few, depending how you count it," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "None of them planned. I didn't seek him out."
Hirik exhaled sharply, sitting back. "Maybe he sought you out."
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. It stretched until Tai, in a quieter voice, said, "How bad is it? The bond."
Evie hesitated. The words felt heavy on her tongue. She pulled out a chair and sank into it, her shoulders drooping.
"It's like..." She searched for something to compare it to. "Like being tethered to someone you can't quite get away from. Like he's...written into me somehow. I feel it even when he's not near. And when he is..." She trailed off, lifting a hand and curling it into a loose fist. "It's worse. Better and worse. There's something... comforting about it. And terrifying too. And we haven't even sealed it."
Tai and Hirik exchanged a glance she caught but didn't comment on.
"Father said it settles once you do. That it's like a raw, open wound until then," Tai said. "Always reaching for its other half. Gets worse the longer you deny it."
"So she needs to take a tumble in the sheets with him, then disappear."
Hirik drew three narrow-eyed stares for that one.
"No. If she does, the bond gets stronger. He can use it to find her; he'll be able to tell what she's feeling when she feels it. Given what we're doing, that won't work out well for us."
She sighed and leaned her arms on the table, burying her face in her hands for a second before lifting her head again. "And the worst part is, he doesn't even seem like a bad person."
Hirik frowned, leaning in. "Would it help if I reminded you how many people he's killed?"
"Surprisingly, no," she muttered dryly.
Tai let out a low breath, running a hand through his hair. "Too bad your soulmate isn't really Leo Andreozzi. I bet he wouldn't be a crow whose life we're trying to ruin. He sounds like a baker. He'd be able to give us free pastries and cakes. We'd all get fat."
Evie laughed lightly, the sound a little thin but genuine. "That would have been nice," she said. "A baker. Or someone quiet who lived by the river and kept ducks."
"Instead, you got a trained killer with puppy eyes," Tai said, deadpan.
"And incredible hair," Hirik added, just to be a shit.
Evie dropped her head onto the table with a groan. "Please stop," she mumbled into the wood. "You're making it worse."
"You don't have to do this, you know," Tai said. "You don't have to tear yourself apart for our sake."
"I do," Evie said simply. "I could never walk away. Not while Uncle Zev is under that contract. I made my decision. I'll live with it."
Tai was quiet for a long moment, looking at her like he was trying to see past her bravado to the aching underneath. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered silver coin, turning it between his fingers.
"Then let's let fate decide," he said.
Evie raised an eyebrow. "Fate?"
"Heads, we stay the course. Tails, we leave it behind."
He smiled, but she could see the weight behind it. This wasn't a joke to him. It wasn't a joke to any of them.
"All right," she said softly.
Tai flipped the coin into the air with a practised flick. It spun, flashing in the light, before clattering down onto the table.
Heads.
They all stared at it for a moment. The future, written on a simple silver coin.
"Fate decided," Tai said.
Evie nodded, feeling the heaviness of it settle on her like a second skin. There had been no right answer anyway.
"Fate decided," she echoed.
His eyes found Evie's across the table.
"So," he said, his voice lighter but steady, "what's next?"
Evie leaned back in her chair, gaze flickering to the faded map. Treviso stretched out in ink and parchment, all winding alleys and hidden corners, and every inch of it felt just a little more dangerous now.
"We can't hit another Crow target yet," she said. "Not with the way the city's humming. They're still trying to figure out what happened."
"Which means," Hirik added, "we have time to lay groundwork. Quiet sabotage. Information gathering."
Evie nodded. "We have to stay ahead of them. Smarter, not louder."
Kieran tapped a finger against the side of his mug thoughtfully. "What about the ledger pieces we haven't decrypted yet? I can prioritise the ones tied to Treviso contacts. Might give us a list of names to watch."
"Good," Tai said. "We also need to find out who else is loyal to the First Talon besides her bloodline. Not every Crow in this city is going to back her just because she says so."
"And if we know who she's leaning on," Evie said, feeling the steady burn of resolve in her chest. "We know where to start pulling threads."
They sat with that thought for a moment, the enormity of it, before Tai leaned forward again, elbows braced on the table, voice low and full of quiet certainty.
"We'll tear it down," he said. "And when we're done, no one will ever be able to put it back together again."
They turned their attention to the map of Treviso spread across the battered table. A few candles flickered in their holders, throwing long shadows over the worn parchment and the marked points that had been carefully inked earlier - old Crow meeting places, known alleys, favoured haunts.
Kieran tapped his knuckles lightly against the wood, thoughtful. "They'll start regrouping, and probably fast. First thing they'll need is information."
Evie nodded, leaning her elbows on the table. "We can't let them re-establish lines of communication. If they can't coordinate, they can't organise a proper counterattack."
"Couriers," Hirik said, rubbing his chin. "They're going to be everywhere. Not just sending messages, but carrying instructions, gold, orders for supplies."
Tai leaned back in his chair, balancing on two legs, arms crossed behind his head. "We can't follow all of them. There's too many. We'd get noticed. We need to pick the right ones."
Kieran pointed at the map. "Here," he said, tapping a few streets near the central market. "And here. After the safehouses blew, we've seen more movement through these areas. Higher traffic. Tense looks. More guards. Might not be official Crow territory, but something's happening."
Evie leaned closer, studying the points. "You're thinking mid-tier runners?"
"Yeah," Kieran said. "Middle of the chain. Enough to know useful things, but not guarded like kings."
Hirik grinned. "I could help with that. Smoke bombs, distraction toys. Maybe rig a merchant cart to break down near one of the couriers, cause a bottleneck."
"We keep it subtle," Evie added firmly. "No public spectacle. We just want to peel off a few messengers, lift whatever they're carrying, and vanish. No bloodshed. No missing corpses."
Tai snorted. "You say that now. But the minute you flash that cute smile at a courier and he goes lovestruck, you're going to be stuck dragging a body into an alley."
Evie flicked a rolled-up bit of parchment at him but smiled faintly. "Then maybe one of you distracts them instead."
"Not it," Hirik muttered immediately.
"Not it," Kieran echoed.
Tai just grinned.
Evie shook her head, exasperated but fond. "You're all cowards."
Kieran sobered, sitting forward again. "We need a clean exit strategy too. Fast routes. No lingering. If one courier goes missing too long, they'll change their protocols."
"We'll map a few backup paths," Hirik said. "And I'll set up some noise-makers; if we need to scatter, they'll help cover it."
Evie tapped the table decisively. "Good. We pick two targets tomorrow. Tail them. Learn their habits. When we're ready, we strike."
Tai let the chair drop back onto all four legs with a heavy thud, grinning. "Back to basics. I almost missed this."
Evie smiled back, feeling something tighten warmly in her chest. After everything, after the guilt and confusion, this... this felt right.
"Tomorrow then," she said. "We start watching. I'll go back to playing in the marketplace too. It's a good way to keep eyes without being obvious about it."
And she had missed it. There wasn't much point avoiding it anymore; Lucanis knew about the bond. And she ran into him often enough anyway.
Might as well go back to doing something she loved.