AISLYNThe elders deliberate for hours.

Not because they don’t believe me, but because belief carries consequences.

By the time the decision comes, the sun has dipped low enough to stain the packhouse windows amber, and the air feels tight with inevitability. Fear has sharpened into resolve. Ashlyn’s influence has thinned, stretched too far to hold.

I stand alone at the edge of the lower vaults when the final word is delivered.

“You will lead us to it,” the eldest says. “And you will ...