The night wind rolled down from the cliffs, sharp with the scent of stone and smoke. Beyond the open gates of Black Tortoise City, the last of the traders drifted away, their torches winking out one by one in the mist.
On the ramparts, beneath a sky bruised by twilight, Mirean Moon stood with an animal-skin ledger pressed to her chest. Her silver hair fluttered against the torchlight as she turned to the man beside her.
"Is that plan of yours still in motion?" she asked softly.
Luciel didn't look up right away. His gaze followed the silhouettes of Waldo and the others, disappearing into the streets below like shadows dissolving into deeper night.
"Of course," he said at last, a faint smile tracing his lips. "And it begins tonight."
Mirean tilted her head, her curiosity glinting through calm blue eyes.
