Cassira woke to cold.

Damp air clung to her skin and her breath fogged in front of her face, pale and weak in the dim light.

She tried to move but couldn't

Rope bound her wrists and ankles.

She pulled once, just enough to test it, and the fibers dug into her skin.

The knots didn’t budge.

Cassira went still, breathing through the sting, then forced herself to look around.

Stone walls boxed her in on three sides, rough and uneven. Packed dirt pressed cold beneath her. Across the room, a narrow staircase climbed to a door, thin lines of lamplight showing around the frame.

Somewhere nearby, someone was sniffling.

Cassira turned her head.

Mira sat against the opposite wall, hands bound in front of her, knees drawn up tight. Tears streaked her cheeks, catching what little light filtered down from above. Her eyes went wide when she saw Cassira looking at her.

"You're awake," Mira whispered. Relief flooded her voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

The word came out rougher than Cassira intended. Her throat felt like she'd swallowed sand.

A shape moved near the stairs.

A man sat on the bottom step, whittling something with a short knife. Wood shavings curled onto the floor beside his boots. He glanced up at Cassira's voice, then stood without hurry and walked toward the door.

He didn't say anything. Just climbed the stairs, opened the door, and disappeared through it.

Light spilled down briefly before the door closed again.

Cassira waited until his footsteps faded.

Then she looked back at Mira. "What happened?"

Mira swallowed. "After you went down, they grabbed us both. I stayed awake but they did something and I couldn't move."

Her voice shook on the last word.

"They carried us out of Glasshold," Mira continued. "Hours of walking. I lost track of time, but I heard them talking the whole way."

"What did they say?"

Mira's eyes flicked toward the door. She lowered her voice even further.

"Their leader's name is Wisp. I heard the others call him that. This wasn't random. It was a job. A kidnapping job to capture you." She paused. "They're heading toward an exchange point. Someone hired them to take you out of Glasshold and hand you over."

Cassira's chest went cold.

These weren't random thugs. Someone had paid them to take her.

She forced herself to breathe evenly. "Mar will come."

Mira nodded quickly. Too quickly. Like she wanted to believe it.

"I know he will," Cassira said again, voice steadier now. "He won't stop until he finds me."

Mira bit her lip. "I—I heard something else. While we were traveling. One of the crew asked Wisp if anyone would follow us. If the city watch would track us."

She hesitated.

"What did he say?"

"He said he has a skill. Something that blocks magical tracking. He said no one could follow us that way."

Cassira narrowed her eyes.

If Mar couldn't track her with magic—if Serin couldn't use the Academy's resources—

The door at the top of the stairs opened again.

Footsteps descended.

Cassira looked up.

The man who came down wasn't the guard from before.

He was easy to overlook.

Lean. Average height. Dark hair. Plain traveler’s clothes. The sort of man who could pass through a room and be forgotten before the door closed behind him.

Then his eyes settled on her.

Cold and calculating.

Cassira's pulse quickened despite herself.

This was Wisp.

---

---

Wisp stopped a few paces away.

He studied her for a moment, hands loose at his sides.

"Good," he said finally. "You're awake."

Cassira kept her expression blank. Refusing to give him anything.

He tilted his head slightly, like he was making an assessment. "Nothing personal, you understand. This is just work."

"Work."

Her voice came out flat.

"That's right." He spread his hands out, palms up. "Someone wants you delivered. I'm delivering you. Simple as that."

Cassira swallowed the anger rising in her throat.

She couldn't afford to lose control. Not here.

She lifted her chin. "Do you know who I am?"

Wisp's mouth twitched.

Then he laughed, a humorless sound that made Cassira's stomach twist.

"Yeah," he said. "I know who you are. You're the princess. Fifth daughter of the High King. Someone's paying very good money for you."

Cassira's pulse hammered against her ribs, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. "Is it worth it?"

Wisp raised an eyebrow.

"Once they find me," Cassira continued, voice steady now, "you'll be hunted. The Imperial Guard. My father's men. They won't stop. You know that."

For a moment, Wisp didn't answer.

Then he gave her a cold smile.

"Once I get my money, I'm gone." He shrugged. "This is my last job."

Cassira stared back at him, the implications sinking in.

He meant it.

Someone was paying him enough to retire. Enough to risk the wrath of kings and abandon everything he'd built here.

Whoever wanted her had paid that much.

Wisp seemed to take her silence for acceptance.

He turned toward the stairs, one hand already reaching for the rail.

Cassira's mind raced, searching for something—anything—that might help her.

"What if I could get you more money?"

Wisp paused , glancing back at her. "More than whoever hired you is paying," she pressed. "My father—"

"Your father?" Wisp let out a short laugh. "Princess, after what I've done, your father won't negotiate. He'll hunt me down and make an example of me. And that giant of yours?" He shook his head. "He won't let me live long enough to spend what I've already earned."

"No," he said, starting to climb. "The only way I survive this is to finish the job and disappear. There's no other option now."

The door closed behind him.

The basement fell back into shadow.

Mira let out a shaky breath. "Cassira—"

"I know."

Cassira leaned her head back against the cold stone wall, staring at the ceiling.

Mar would come.

He had to.

---

---

Mav stood in the cold morning air, watching Wisp emerge from the stone house.

The boss gestured to Kain without a word.

Kain nodded and disappeared inside. A minute later, he came back out with the two girls. The half-goblin girl looked terrified. The princess kept her face blank, but Mav saw the tension in her shoulders.

Bale followed behind them, crossbow slung across his back.

Wisp studied the horizon, eyes moving carefully from one building to the next.

Then he stopped.

His eyes fixed on something to the east. A cluster of ruined buildings at the village's edge.

Mav followed his line of sight but saw nothing.

Wisp's expression didn't change, but Mav felt the shift in his posture. The slight tilt of his head. The way his hand drifted toward his belt.

Something had caught his attention.

Wisp turned and met Mav's eyes.

A single nod.

Mav moved forward.

Wisp waited until Mav was within arm's reach, then raised his hand. Light rippled outward from his palm—faint and translucent—and settled around them both like a bubble.

The ambient sounds of wind and footsteps muffled slightly.

Mav recognized the spell. Wisp used it when he didn't want eavesdroppers.

"Someone's watching us," Wisp said quietly. His tone stayed casual, like they were discussing the weather. "East side. Abandoned house. Second floor."

Mav's hand tightened on his weapon.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Wisp glanced toward the building again, his expression unchanging.

He looked back at Mav. "Once we're into the Waste, I want you to handle it. Take Bale and Kain. Circle back and kill whoever's following us."

Mav nodded slowly. "What if it's more than one?"

"Then kill them all." Wisp's voice stayed flat. "We can't afford a tail. Not this close to the exchange."

"Understood."

The light around them faded.

Wisp stepped away and raised his voice. "Let's move. We're burning daylight."

The crew formed up quickly. Kain kept a hand on the princess's arm while Bale stayed close to the goblin girl. Tomas and Dirk flanked the group, scanning the perimeter out of habit.

Mav fell into position near the back, his mind already running through the ambush.

Whoever was following them had stayed hidden well. That meant experience.

Didn't matter.

Dead was dead.

---

---

They walked for an hour.

The terrain shifted as they moved north. The temperature dropped further, and the wind picked up, cutting through Mav's cloak like it wasn't there.

The exchange location wasn't far now. Another few hours.

Wisp slowed as they approached a narrow pass framed by twisted pines. The trees grew dense here, their branches heavy with snow.

Perfect for an ambush.

Wisp stopped and turned to Mav.

"Here."

Mav scanned the area. The pass funneled travelers between two rocky outcrops. Trees provided cover on both sides. Good sightlines. Limited escape routes.

Yeah. This would work.

"Take your time," Wisp said. "Make sure it's clean. Then catch up."

Mav nodded.

Wisp gestured to Bale and Kain. "You two. Stay with Mav."

Bale shifted his crossbow. "What about the girls?"

" Tomas and Dirk can handle them." Wisp's tone left no room for argument. "I need you here."

Kain grunted his agreement and moved to stand beside Mav.

Wisp turned back to the pass and kept walking. Tomas and Dirk followed, the girls between them.

Mav watched them disappear around the bend, then looked at Bale and Kain.

"Spread out," he said quietly. "Bale, take the high ground on the left. Kain, cover the right. I'll hold center."

Bale nodded and moved off without a word. Kain followed, his heavy boots crunching through the snow.

Mav found a position behind a fallen log near the center of the pass. He crouched low, his crossbow resting across his knee, and settled in to wait.

The wind howled through the trees.

Whoever was following them would come through here eventually.

And when they did, they'd walk right into the kill zone.

---

---

Calen watched from the upstairs window as kidnappers prepared to leave. The morning sun cast long shadows across the snow-covered ground. One of the kidnappers, dragged Cassira and Mira outside, both girls bound and moving slowly.

For a moment, Calen felt eyes on him.

His hand moved to his knife, and he pressed himself against the wall beside the window frame.

He counted three slow breaths before carefully peering back out.

The leader stood near the center of the group, talking quietly to the scarred man—Mav. Whatever they were discussing stayed between them, shielded by some kind of spell Calen didn't recognize.

Neither of them looked his way now.

Did I imagined it?

Calen exhaled slowly and watched the crew form up. They headed north, into the Waste.

He waited until they disappeared before moving.

---

---

The temperature dropped as Calen followed their tracks north. His ribs ached where the explosive had slammed him into the wall yesterday. The healing pill had closed the worst of it, but exhaustion dragged at every step.

He'd spent the entire night watching that stone house, his eyes burning from lack of sleep. Between observation shifts, he'd carefully disassembled the damaged battery from his radio, salvaging the unstable core fragments and wire to build three crude explosive charges. Nothing elegant. Just volatile energy wrapped in scrap cloth with a friction trigger.

They weren't much, but they'd buy him an opening if he needed one.

The pine trees grew thicker as the trail led into a narrow pass. Rocky outcrops rose on either side, and the wind howled through twisted branches overhead.

Something felt wrong.

Calen slowed, scanning the terrain. His Resonance Veins skill pulsed faintly—detecting energy signatures, but scattered. Unfocused.

No, not unfocused.

Hidden.

His instincts screamed move, and he threw himself sideways just as a crossbow bolt split the air where his head had been.

Calen rolled behind a thick pine, his heart hammering.

"You again!" Mav's voice echoed through the pass, sharp with recognition. "I swore I killed you last time we fought!"

Not quite.

Calen pressed his back against the tree, forcing his breathing to slow as he extended his Resonance Veins skill outward, reading the energy signatures around him.

Three.

One high—left outcrop.

One right—closer to where Calen hiding.

One center—Mav.

Three seasoned fighters. Calen was cold, exhausted, and carrying improvised explosives that might detonate if he moved wrong.

Can't beat them all straight on.

He scanned the terrain quickly. Dense trees. Rocky cover. Limited sightlines.

Calen grabbed one of the crude charges from his coat and hurled it toward the right outcrop. It tumbled through the air before striking stone—

The explosion lit up the pass with a sharp crack, scattering snow and debris.

The bandit on the right cursed and stumbled back from his position.

Calen moved immediately. He used the chaos to slip through the trees, angling wide around Mav's position. His movements stayed low, using every shadow and snowdrift for cover.

A crossbow bolt hissed past his shoulder.

The bandit on the left had repositioned and was shooting at him.

Calen threw his second charge toward that outcrop without breaking stride. The detonation shook loose snow from the branches above, momentarily obscuring shooters line of sight.

"Stop running!" Mav's voice came from behind. Closer than Calen liked.

Calen kept moving, circling back toward bandit on the right. The big fighter was recovering from the first explosion, weapon drawn.

Calen didn't give him time to set his stance.

He closed the distance fast—and drove his knife toward the gap between chest plate and shoulder guard.

The big bandit twisted, catching Calen's wrist with a grip like iron.

Bad.

The bandit wrenched Calen's arm sideways and slammed his fist into Calen's ribs. The impact drove the air from his lungs, and white pain exploded through his chest.

Calen dropped low, slipping the hold, and swept the bandits leg.

The big bandit staggered but didn't fall.

A crossbow bolt buried itself into the tree beside Calen's head.

Too exposed.

Calen scrambled backward, putting distance between himself and the big bandit as Mav closed in from the side. His breathing came hard now, each inhale sharp with pain. The cold bit through his coat. His vision blurred slightly at the edges.

Can't keep this up.

Mav raised his crossbow, aiming center mass.

Calen threw his last explosive.

The charge tumbled through the air—

Mav's eyes widened. He dove sideways as the detonation ripped through the snow where he'd been standing.

The big bandit charged from the right.

The shooter on the left crossbow reloaded with a mechanical click.

Calen's legs felt like lead. His hands shook from cold and exhaustion.

Not enough.

The big bandit's blade came down fast.

Calen raised his knife to block—

An inhuman scream split the air.

The sound tore through the pass like something dying and raging at once. High-pitched.

Everyone froze.

The scream came again—closer—and something massive crashed through the tree line.

A pale shape burst into the clearing with unnatural speed. Twisted limbs. Frost clinging to exposed bone and stitched flesh.

A draugr.

But not like the ones Calen had seen before.

This thing was wrong.