The rhythmic thwack of Phoebe's fist against Solace's chest eventually slowed, then stopped. The adrenaline of the fight and the emotional outburst had burned itself out, leaving a lingering, awkward silence in the small resting room.
Phoebe retreated to the far end of the velvet sofa, pulling her knees to her chest. She smoothed her hair back, her cheeks flushed a bright, indignant crimson. She refused to look at him, staring intently at a scuff mark on her boot, looking for all the world like a petulant princess who had just been caught crying.
Solace, however, didn't look away. He sat perfectly still in the armchair, his dark eyes fixed on her. He wasn't glaring, nor was he mocking her. He was simply observing, his gaze heavy and unblinking, studying the girl.
Five seconds passed. Then ten.
The weight of his gaze became physical. Phoebe shifted. She cleared her throat. She tapped her foot. Finally, she snapped.
"What?" she hissed, her head whipping around, platinum eyes flashing dangerously. "What are you staring at? Do I have dirt on my face? Is my hair messed up? Stop looking at me, Solace!"
Solace didn't flinch at her outburst. He didn't even blink.
"You promised," he said calmly, his voice cutting through her agitation. "You said once the match was over, you'd tell me what you and Nolan have been up to in the shadows."
Phoebe's mouth opened to launch another retort, but the words died in her throat. The flush of embarrassment vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden, stark pallor. Her posture stiffened.
"Oh," she breathed, the fight draining out of her. "Right."
She lowered her legs, placing her boots firmly on the floor. The air in the room, which had been warming up, suddenly chilled. It wasn't the violent cold of her attacks, but a seeping, melancholic drop in temperature that fogged the glass of the water pitcher on the table.
"It's about Nolan's mother," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Sarah."
Solace leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his full attention locking onto her. "Go on."
Phoebe took a shaky breath, her fingers digging into the velvet of the sofa. "We found them. Or at least, we found a trail leading to the Gang that killed her."
She paused, her gaze drifting to the floor, her expression twisting with a mixture of grief and suppressed rage. "And... possibly the ones who killed my mother, too."
Solace felt a cold prickle at the base of his neck.
"What did you find?" Solace asked, his voice low and steady, offering a calm anchor for her turbulence.
"A case file," Phoebe said, her eyes hardening. "I dug it up from the archives, but it originated from the Imperial Court. It was a restricted document shared only with the heads of the Pillar Families, but it got buried."
She looked up at him. "It detailed a string of disappearances. Children. Dozens of them, taken over the last years from Cohen, a small industrial town on the jagged edge of the Theron Province."
Solace frowned. "Kidnappings?"
"That's just it," Phoebe interrupted, her voice sharpening. "The Police did investigate. They had suspects. They had evidence. But the case was dismissed with prejudice. Sealed and buried by a High Elder of the Imperial Court."
"Who?"
"Farbuti Hern."
Solace's eyes narrowed to slits. The name hung in the air like a foul odor. "Michael's father?"
"The very same," Phoebe nodded grimly. "The head of the Hern family personally intervened to stop an investigation into missing children."
Solace sat back, his mind racing. Farbuti Hern was a man of immense power and influence. For him to dirty his hands with a cover-up in a backwater town like Cohen meant something massive was being hidden.
"The file mentioned the prime suspects," Phoebe continued, her voice trembling with suppressed fury. "Two men. Witnesses described a tattoo on their wrists. A specific symbol."
She traced a shape in the air with her finger.
"A black snake, coiled tightly around the barrel of a flintlock pistol."
Solace went very still. He watched her hand drop back to her lap.
"Nolan recognized it," Phoebe whispered. "It's the same symbol the men wore the night they butchered Sarah. The 'Serpent's Gun'. It's not just a gang, Solace. It's a cult. And they aren't just in the shadows anymore."
She looked at him, fear warring with determination in her eyes. "The file suggests they are moving their operations. They're expanding out of the provinces. They're coming here. To Theron City. Something massive is going to happen, Solace. I can feel it in the Threads. A convergence."
Solace remained silent. He closed his eyes for a brief second, processing the data.
He opened his mouth to speak, to ask about the timeline, to formulate a plan
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
The Host's voice boomed through the wall speakers, vibrating the floor and shattering the heavy atmosphere of the room.
"The preliminary rounds have concluded! The chaff has been separated from the wheat! We are now left with the elite! The absolute best! Only EIGHT participants remain in the tournament!"
The announcement rang out like a bell tolling the end of their privacy. The reality of the tournament crashed back in, demanding their attention, irrelevant as it now seemed compared to the darkness Phoebe had just unveiled.
Solace looked at the speaker, then back at Phoebe.
Phoebe stood up abruptly, shaking off the melancholy like a wet coat. She adjusted her jacket, her mask of arrogance sliding back into place, though her eyes remained soft.
"We'll talk later," she said, her voice steady again. "I need to let the others in on this, too. We can't do it alone."
She turned to walk out of the room, her hand on the doorknob. Then, she paused. She turned back one last time, a teasing, wicked smile curving her lips, the Phoebe Frostbane everyone knew returning to the surface.
"Best of luck, my little vampire," she drawled, eyeing him up and down. "Now that you managed to scrape a win against me, you should definitely win against the others."
Her smile sharpened into something predatory yet playful.
"Or I will personally come into your room and kill you in your sleep. Don't disappoint me, Solace."
With that, she flipped her hair and walked out, leaving Solace alone in the quiet room, the echo of her threat and her trust hanging in the air.