Ava Morales gripped the _Liber Nocturna_, its leather cover cold against her palms as the motorboat cut through the Vltava River's dark waters, Prague's medieval spires dissolving into mist. Elian and Lucas worked in sync, navigating the craft through shadowy arches, their movements honed from centuries of evasion. Catherine sat apart, her gaze vacant, the echoes of shadows lingering in her eyes.
"We're clear," Lucas said, checking the GPS tracker. "Order's forces are five klicks back, but they'll regroup."
Elian's green eyes narrowed. "Ava, focus. You need to understand the _Liber_'s terms. It doesn't grant power without a price."
Ava's thumb traced the scar on her palm—the pact's mark. "What do you mean?"
"The _Liber_ demands payment in kind," Elian explained, his voice low and measured. "Blood, memory, or soul. The more you write, the higher the cost."
Ava's mind reeled. "How do I control it?"
Lucas's expression turned grim. "You don't. Not yet. The _Liber_ chooses its edits. You're just the scribe."
The river widened, merging with a forest-lined lake. The boat docked at a secluded inlet. Elian jumped ashore, securing the rope to a mossy boulder.
"Time to move," he said. "The Order will send trackers. We need to vanish."
Ava disembarked, the _Liber_'s weight unyielding. Catherine followed, her steps mechanical. Lucas tossed a backpack to Ava.
"Supplies. Clothes, cash, a gun. You may need it."
Ava checked the weapon—a Glock 19, loaded with silver-tipped rounds. "Who taught you this?"
Elian's smile was cold. "I've lived long, Ava. Survival is a learned art."
The group moved inland, forest shadows swallowing them whole. Ava's breath fogged in the night air, the _Liber_'s pages rustling softly, urging her forward.
An hour into the woods, Elian stopped at a granite outcrop. "Here."
Lucas pried open a hidden door, revealing a cabin buried in the hillside. Elian pushed Ava inside. "Safe house. For now."
The cabin was cramped, walls lined with maps and old weapons. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting eerie silhouettes. Catherine collapsed onto a bunk, her eyes closing instantly.
Ava dropped the _Liber_ onto a wooden table. "What now?"
Elian leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Now you train. Learn to wield the _Liber_ without destroying yourself… or others."
Lucas tossed her a dagger. "First lesson: control the cut. The _Liber_ feeds on intent. Focus yours."
Ava's fingers closed around the blade. She pricked her thumb, a bead of blood welling. The _Liber_'s pages fluttered, hungry.
"Write," Elian commanded. "Something simple. _'The fire burns brighter.'"_
Ava scribbled the words. Flames leapt in the hearth, colors shifting from orange to crimson. The _Liber_'s pages settled, satisfied.
Catherine stirred, her gaze locking onto Ava. "What's happening?"
Ava's voice was hollow. "I'm learning… to control it."
The night dragged on. Ava wrote, the _Liber_ responded, and the cost mounted. Blood seeped from her nose, her vision blurring. Elian caught her as she fell.
"You're pushing too hard," he whispered. "The _Liber_'s draining you."
Ava's eyes fluttered open. Catherine watched, her expression unreadable. Lucas stood guard, gun trained on the shadows outside.
Elian's face hovered close. "Rest, Ava. Tomorrow, we hunt… the Order."
Ava's dreams swirled with ink and blood, the _Liber_'s pages turning endlessly, writing her fate in red.
Dawn broke, the cabin silent. Ava woke to find Catherine sharpening the dagger, her movements precise and deadly.
"Catherine?" Ava asked, her voice rough.
Catherine's gaze snapped up. "I remember, Ava. The shadows… what you did."
Ava's heart pounded. "I'm sorry—"
Catherine's smile was thin. "Don't be. I'm useful now."
Elian intervened, pulling Ava aside. "Catherine's adapting. But you need focus. The Order's closing in."
Ava nodded, resolve hardening. "I'm ready."
The _Liber_'s pages turned, writing: _"The hunt begins. The price is blood."_
Ava's fingers tightened around the quill. She knew the path—control the