Caelith stood staring at the closed door for a long while, her gaze fixed upon it as though it might yet open again.
. . .
By the time her work was done, night had already fallen.
True to his word, Lucas was waiting at the entrance, a lantern held in his hand. Its warm glow flickered softly against the gathering dark.
"Come," he said simply.
This time, Caelith did not refuse.
The alleyways were dim and narrow.
Lucas walked ahead, carrying the lantern; its amber light swayed gently, casting rippling shadows across the worn stone path. Caelith followed behind him, her head lowered, her thoughts a tangled storm she could scarcely untangle.
Suddenly, her foot slipped.
She had stepped upon a loose stone. In an instant, her balance faltered, and she pitched forward.
"Careful!"
Lucas reacted at once, swift as instinct. He caught her by the arm, steadying her before she could fall. The lantern swung wildly, nearly slipping from his grasp, but he caught it with his other hand.
