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Lysander advanced, blade flashing again. His strike met the daemon’s chest. The creature’s form collapsed inward, folding into smoke, dissolving until nothing remained but a streak of dark frost.

Silence swallowed the world. The only sound was the patter of her blood on the snow.

Idonea swayed, breath becoming ragged.

Lysander’s eyes swept the tree line, his jaw tight. “Where did that daemon come from?”

She wiped her dagger against her trousers, smearing crimson into black cloth. “It didn’t kill those girls.”

Lysander sheathed his sword. The sound was steady. “And did you get what we need?”

“The trace is strongest within the town,” she said, frowning at the direction they’d come. “But how could it hide there? With that many Templars watching?”

He tilted his head back, studying the sky. “Then we try something else.”

Blood still trailed from her palm. He noticed, stepping closer, but she turned away before he could offer a cloth.

They began their return through the trees, the snow whispering beneath their boots. The Current’s hum still echoed faintly in her chest, her heartbeat a fraction too slow.

Neither spoke again, but Lysander’s gaze flicked towards her, words unspoken in his look.

They went back through Alcaeus’s house the way they came, down into the basement.

Her hand throbbed, blood still sluggishly seeped through the bandage she’d hastily wrapped. She ignored it. The ache was deserved.

The hatch creaked as it lifted open into the cottage.

Lysander climbed up first. She followed and froze halfway out.

Alcaeus sat in the chair by the fire, a book open in his lap, though he wasn’t reading. His gaze fixed on them. He didn’t stand.

“Welcome back,” he said. “Took the long way home, I see.”

Idonea straightened, the ache in her arm forgotten. “Why are you here?”

His eyes moved to Lysander. “You were ordered to keep her here.”

Lysander didn’t answer. His expression didn’t shift, but the muscle in his jaw flexed.

Idonea stepped forward. “You know the daemon is not mine.”

Alcaeus sighed and shut the book. “The Magistrate has summoned a Grand Templar. Whatever is killing those girls is feeding. It’s anchored itself somewhere deep.”

She stiffened and glanced at Lysander’s stoic form. “Then why not tell me earlier?”

“I suspected,” he said. “You’re strong enough to track something slipping between planes. And if you’re right about this relic … then it must be near.”

“Then Nellith is near.”

He raised his brows. “Yet she has not helped.”

“Because they have her.”

Alcaeus stood, moving to the door. “Once the Grand Templar arrives, I’ll be unable to protect you.”

Idonea swallowed hard. Her mind spun. “How long?”

“A few days,” Alcaeus said. “You’ll have to work at night. The other Templars, the Magistrate, they all will expect your confinement.”