The sky darkened before the sun had the decency to set.
Clouds gathered not in chaotic spirals, but in deliberate rings above the Citadel, folding inward like a closing eye. The air thickened. Birds fled the towers. The wolves in the courtyard paused mid movement, instincts pricked by something they could not name.
Aria stood at the highest balcony and felt it settle into place.
The Deep was not rising.
It was reaching.
Not upward in stone and flame.
Outward.
Through fault lines invisible to ordinary sight.
Damien joined her, coat snapping in the sudden wind. "Tell me that's coincidence."
"It isn't," she replied.
Below them, the courtyard torches flickered blue.
A murmur spread among the wolves.
Maelis appeared at the stairwell entrance, breath sharp from climbing. "The lower wards are responding. We haven't touched them."
Aria nodded slowly.
"It's mapping us."
Damien's jaw tightened. "Mapping how?"
