Vera’s steps carried a laden weight as they echoed across the empty marrowstone, the sound following her through narrow passages before dissolving into the darkness behind. Eventually, she slowed, then stopped before the yawning mouth of a vast cavern dusted in a fine layer of pale ash.

  A hollow current of air drifted from within, curling in slow, unsettled loops, never quite finding rest. The light of her Lumen Stone spilled into the space unevenly, catching on jagged stone and drifting motes of dust, breaking and scattering in strange ways as it tried to reach deeper into the cavern’s depths.

  She glanced down at the floor at her feet. The dust was perfectly smooth. No footprints this time.

  “Chosen,” a rasping whisper came from behind her. “You have returned.”

  Vera turned, meeting the Bound Witness’s shadowed, hollow gaze. “I am.”

  “Is there something else you need?” the specter asked.

  She smiled faintly and shook her head. “No. I just wanted to thank you.”

  The Witness went still. The chains hanging from its form shifted, scraping softly against one another as it studied her. Then its gaze drifted past her, toward the cavern beyond—toward the place that still held the remnants of a god.

  “Thanks are not necessary.”

  “I get that. Still. I wanted to say it.”

  The Witness looked back to her, its attention sharpening. “…Do you remember now?”

  “I do.”

  “Then I suspect there is even more reason for you not to thank me.”

  Vera was quiet for a moment, the edge of her smile fading. “You did what you thought was right. In the end, it was for the best. Things would’ve gone a lot worse if you hadn’t helped.”

  “…Perhaps.” The chains shifted again. “But I am familiar with the cost of bearing Hollow’s burdens. I will not accept gratitude for passing such weight onto one who yet lives.”

  Her smile returned, thin but genuine. “Vanded said you were kinder than you let on. Guess he wasn’t lying.”

  “Blazegrip is never to be trusted. Do not repeat his claims.”

  Vera chuckled. “Oh, believe me. I know better than to take lessons from him. I’m already having enough trouble teaching my daughter not to use him as an example.”

  The Witness dipped its head—a gesture that carried a surprising amount of gravity. “Teach her well, Chosen. She may need it.”

  “Hopefully not,” Vera said. “But we’ll see how things turn out.”

  She shrugged, and for a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The cavern almost seemed to be waiting.

  “Was there something else?” the Witness eventually asked.

  “I also wanted to say goodbye,” Vera replied. “I’ve been making the rounds, and though we’ve only really met a couple of times, it felt wrong not to at least say it.”

  “You are leaving?”

  “Yep. Heading east to Caer Virell. For a few reasons. Won’t be gone forever, and we’ll probably pop back in every now and then, but still felt right to give notice.”

  “I see. Then I wish you success in your endeavors.”

  “Thanks. Fingers crossed and all. Here’s hoping we don’t stumble into another awakened Silent Lord.”

  “…Do not jest with such ill-omened thoughts.”

  Vera laughed lightly. “I am kind of jinxing things with that, aren’t I? Between us, though? Part of me’s hoping for it. Fighting Veyrith was a rush, and every time I ask Elaria to spar, she gives me these looks. It’s hard finding something that really lets you blow off steam.”

  The Bound Witness stared at her in silence.

  “That’s the look,” Vera said. She smirked, then extended her hand as Stillwake formed within it. With a single, practiced motion, the halberd’s blade tore open the air.

  Mark of Hollow Reach.

  She pulled out an Ashmark from her Vaultring and tossed it toward the specter. “If there’s ever a crisis—or you just need me around—send word through that. I’ll come.”

  The chains rattled softly as the Witness caught it.

  “See you next time,” Vera said, stepping through the rift.

  “This place… it was called The Bleeding Chalice, wasn’t it?” Elaria asked as they stepped out of the Hollow Reach into the narrow alley, then into the broader street beyond.

  “That’s right,” Vera answered. “You’ve been to it, right?”

  “I recall you bringing me here once.” Elaria eyed the bone-carved facade with faint disapproval. “You drank far too much that day.”

  Vera snorted. She’d never been much of a drinker, but on the rare occasions she indulged, she had a tendency to get a bit out of hand. She had hazy memories of late-night gaming sessions where she’d felt low enough to justify ‘a little courage,’ only to—according to friends—say a number of verifiably wild things that probably shouldn’t be said aloud.

  Knowing herself, it was best to avoid alcohol entirely when Serel or Elaria was nearby.

  “Mama, when was this?” Serel asked from between them, both of her hands clasped in theirs. The kid had insisted on it after spotting another child doing the same with their parents on some random street.

  Elaria glanced down at her, then up at Vera, frowning slightly. “…Before you were born.”

  “Mmm. But when?”

  “That’d make it longer than six years ago,” Vera supplied.

  Serel turned on her, brow furrowing in a way that looked suspiciously like Elaria’s expression. “That’s not an answer, Mommy! I asked when.”

  Vera tapped a finger to her chin, pretending to think. “Hmm. Not sure there’s much point answering. You weren’t around, so it must’ve been ages ago. And if you can’t remember things from six years ago, how do you expect us to remember things from before that?”

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  Serel huffed. “Mommy! I can’t remember because I was a baby. You weren’t. You know!”

  Vera squinted at her. “You sure?”

  Serel stared at her for a second longer, then turned to Elaria with visible offense. “Mama, Mommy’s being stupid.”

  “I can tell.” Elaria gave Vera a flat look. “Do you seriously take pleasure in antagonizing your daughter?”

  Vera grinned. “I’m cultivating her critical thinking skills. This is education. Education, I tell you.”

  “I sincerely doubt that.”

  “Me too,” Serel said, trying—and failing—to glare, only managing to look critically cute.

  Vera reached out and tapped Serel’s nose. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

  Serel gasped, yanked her hands free, and immediately hid her face, retreating behind Elaria.

  Vera laughed, even as Elaria joined her daughter in glaring at her. Teasing Serel was fun, but for some reason she didn’t fully understand, it was even more fun when Elaria was there to witness it. Probably terrible for her image as well, but some pleasures were worth the cost.

  She picked up her pace and left them behind as she headed toward the Chalice’s entrance, ignoring the sideways glances sent her way from down the street. Even with Vorthalor currently outside the city, they’d made enough grand entrances—and noise—with the dragon lately that most people around here recognized them. Vera wasn’t too fond of the attention, but she’d learned not to linger on it.

  She pushed open the tavern doors and stepped inside, immediately spotting Hilde behind the counter, a cloth slung over one shoulder and a mug in hand. The large matron looked up and broke into a warm smile.

  “Girl, we’ve got ‘em important folk in the hall again!” she barked suddenly, shouting clean over the low murmur of the patrons without a shred of restraint.

  A few seconds passed before an exasperated voice carried down from the stairs, followed by quick steps. “I’m coming, Ma!”

  Vera laughed to herself as she crossed the room, watching Hilde’s daughter, Gloria, come hurrying down before slowing short at the sight of her. Vera lifted a hand in a small wave, then stopped at the counter and leaned over it, resting on her elbows. “So. How are things looking?”

  “Good, good,” Hilde said, pulling the cloth from her shoulder and wiping down the mug in her hand. “You alone? Where’s the sprig?”

  “Give it a second.”

  Right on cue, the heavy sound of plate against wood announced Elaria and Serel’s entrance. Hilde’s good eye flicked past Vera toward them.

  “Gloria!” Serel’s excited voice called out.

  “Little one’s as full of energy as ever,” Hilde muttered with amusement.

  Vera smiled. She didn’t need to turn around to know Serel had already rushed the older girl, probably dragging Elaria along with her. “That she is.”

  They’d been going around the city, saying their goodbyes to the people here—including Korrin and even a couple of the noble-types Vera had crossed paths with while in Marrowfen—and this was the last stop. She knew Serel would want some time with Gloria, and the older girl still hadn’t really been properly introduced to Elaria. Vera was giving them time to do that.

  Hilde slid a cup of plain water across the counter to her. They watched from a distance as Serel launched into introductions, Elaria regarding Gloria with calm, measured interest while Gloria looked almost as overwhelmed as the first time she’d realized who Vera was.

  Almost.

  Vera was fairly sure she’d earned a slightly bigger reaction, though. She counted that as a win.

  She took a sip as Hilde leaned her back against the counter, arms folding.

  “So,” the matron said, “is that about you and the Flamebearer bein’ a pair o’ goods true or not?”

  Vera nearly choked on the water, coughing as she turned to stare at her. “A pair of goods?”

  The matron dipped her head once. “A pair o’ goods”

  “What, you mean an item? A couple?”

  “Those are your words.”

  “Then could you not maybe have used something more normal to begin with?”

  “It fits, don’t it?”

  Vera watched her for a few seconds, then looked back toward Serel and the others. “We’re not.”

  “Huh. Right then.” Hilde shrugged. “But the sprig’s both of yours, ain’t she? That much’s clear as day.”

  Vera pressed her lips together, then nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Mind me askin’ how that came about? It’s a bit confusing.”

  “It’s… complicated.”

  “So you mind, then. Fair enough. I ain’t one to pry.”

  Vera glanced at her again, then back at Serel. “…Wonky magic stuff,” she finally said.

  Hilde chuckled. “Figured.”

  The conversation drifted lighter after that. Vera told her they were heading east, bound for Caer Virell, and Hilde asked the obvious questions about how long, why, and whether Vera would be killing another tribulation soon. When Vera asked if they could still stop in from time to time so Serel could see Gloria, Hilde snorted and told her the tavern would be ash and haunt before she ever turned either of them away. They were welcome to treat the Chalice like a second home.

  Vera wasn’t sure she’d quite earned that kind of regard, but she was rather fond of this family and didn’t argue it.

  By the time Serel had exhausted herself with goodbyes—and Gloria had promised, very seriously, to keep a place ready for her—they took their leave. A Hollow Reach carried them out of the city, opening onto a stretch of cleared ground a few miles from Marrowfen.

  This stretch of land still bore the scars of Vera’s fight with Veyrith, with the only living souls in sight being Vanded, Gard, and Vorthalor, the crimson dragon sprawled lazily with wings folded and eyes shut.

  “How’d it go?” Vanded asked, grinning as he stood beside the dragon like he’d personally wrestled it into submission.

  “Terrible,” Vera replied. “Burned every bridge I had. Pretty sure we’re marked for death in Marrowfen.”

  “Aye.” Vanded nodded solemnly. “Had a feelin’ that’d be the case.”

  Vera rolled her eyes. “Of course it went fine. What were they going to do—shackle our feet to the ground and beg us to stay?”

  “Some might’ve.”

  “I bet.”

  She walked over to Gard, pulling two thick books from her Vaultring, and handed them to him. He accepted them silently. They were part of the texts on dragons that she’d borrowed for Serel and already finished with the girl.

  Serel slipped past Vanded and made straight for Vorthalor, patting the dragon’s great snout as one golden eye cracked open to regard her.

  “So,” Vanded said, his voice dropping just a touch as he watched Serel. “This is it, then.”

  “Don’t sound so dramatic.” Vera shook her head. “We’ve been over this. We’ll be back in Marrowfen soon enough.”

  The big man shook his head. “That’s exactly what Haldrim of the Nine Spears said. Then half an age passed before he found his kin, just in time to mourn over stone.”

  “Chapter-Master,” Gard said mildly, “perhaps it isn’t entirely appropriate to invoke their early death while we are in the middle of farewells.”

  “Hmm?” Vanded looked at him. “That ain’t what I said.”

  “It could be interpreted that way.”

  Vera smirked. “You wishing death on us now, old man?”

  Vanded turned to her, then to Gard, and a scowl slowly crept onto his face. “Did the two of you concoct some scheme?”

  “We did not.”

  While Gard said that, the knowing look he gave Vera might have suggested otherwise.

  She smiled.

  “Hoh.” Vanded crossed his arms. “Betrayed by my own lieutenant. Valecrest, wager you’ve never had to put up with this.”

  “No,” Elaria said flatly. “I do not give my subordinates reason to betray me.”

  Vanded stared at her for a moment—then barked out a booming laugh. “That’s the Flamebearer for you.”

  Elaria simply ignored him.

  “So, Vanded,” Vera began as she and Elaria moved closer to Serel and Vorthalor. “How long are you staying in Marrowfen? Any chance you’ll pop up in Caer Virell later?”

  Vanded fell quiet. His gaze lingered on both of them before drifting toward the city in the distance. “Wish I could say Marrowfen didn’t still need me. Else I’d be marching at your side already. But you know there’re knots here yet that need hands on ‘em. My hands might not be the best ones, but they’re the only ones the right size.”

  Vera gave a small shrug. “I get it. You don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

  A smile tugged at his mouth. “I’ll come when I can, and no later. You’ve already sacrificed more for us all than anyone ought to. Don’t sell your own strength short, or fool yourself into thinking there aren’t those who’d gladly shoulder even a scrap of the weight you carry.”

  She held his gaze for a moment.

  Then the gravity vanished as Vanded clapped his hands together with a sharp crack. “And don’t hesitate to toss the little one my way if you need air. Old Uncle Vanded’s always ready to take up the honored burden of godfather!”

  “You’re not—” Vera started, then stopped. She exhaled, a little helpless. “Fine. I’ll remember that.”

  His grin turned practically radiant.

  They exchanged their final goodbyes, and Vera helped Serel climb onto Vorthalor’s back while Elaria spoke quietly to the dragon. In Vera’s arms, Serel all but vibrated with excitement, giggling as Elaria mounted in front of her.

  “Bye Uncle Vanded! Bye Uncle Gard!” Serel waved as the dragon gathered himself.

  They waved back.

  Then Vorthalor leapt skyward.

  Serel squealed, throwing her arms up as Vera tightened her hold to keep her steady.

  “Mommy! How long till we get there?” Serel asked once they settled into a steady flight.

  “A few days, by the sounds of it,” Vera replied. Elaria had made it clear they wouldn’t be pushing Vorthalor at full speed with Serel along, and Caer Virell was a good distance away. It might take longer than planned, even.

  “Then where will we sleep tonight?”

  “Well,” Vera said, glancing ahead, “we could always sleep back at home if we want to. Otherwise, we’ll probably reach Karthalas by around the time it gets dark.”

  Serel’s eyes lit up. “That’s another city, right?”

  Vera smiled. “It is, yes.”

  “I want to try staying there!”

  “Alright. Looks like we’ve got our first stop decided, then. Karthalas next.”