Shrouded in black smoke, Finn casts a cleansing spell under his breath. The ashes peeled from his skin like soot in the rain, dissolving in the air. He hurries to Gerard’s side, urgency tightening in every step.

  “My tracker has been tracking Sariah. We need to move fast. I’ll fill you in on what I found along the route,” Gerard says, eyes focused on the path as they walk.

  “Was she the first to find us in the cave?” Finn asks.

  Gerard keeps his gaze fixed ahead. “Yes. She called for backup and gave her testimony. That’s why we thought you were one of them—a kidnapper, a cultist.” His voice is steady, but a hint of bitterness clings to it. It’s the sting of a misjudgement that hasn’t quite faded.

  Finn frowns. “And how did you know ‘S’ is Sariah?”

  “I asked Rafe,” Gerard replies bluntly.

  “What?” Finn stops short, eyebrows shooting up. “Isn’t he bound by the curse?”

  “Not directly.” Gerard keeps walking. “I asked Sariah while she was transporting Daisy’s body to the morgue.”

  Finn narrows his eyes, remembering. “I was there too… You asked her out of nowhere, didn’t you? It seemed odd at the time. Her face… her answer…” He trails off as the memory clicks into place.

  Sariah had been stationed outside the interrogation room, only called in to assist with the body once the interrogation was done, while the other knights were also assigned to take the cultists into custody.

  Gerard had turned to her then, eyes sharp. “Do you know who ‘S’ could be?”

  Sariah had blinked, startled. “Sir Gerard? Do you mean asking my opinion on how to pinpoint ‘S’?”

  “Yes,” Gerard had answered evenly.

  “Then we should identify suspects. Maybe draw up a list of suspects whose names start with ‘S’. Wait… Do you think I’m one of them?” She’d lifted her hands in protest, colour draining from her cheeks.

  “No. I just need the list. We’ll narrow it down from there,” Gerard had said, playing along.

  Sariah had let out a small breath of relief. “Of course. Let me finish with Daisy first. I’ll have something ready soon.” She’d hurried off.

  Back in the present, Finn shakes his head. “Her response was so perfect. So smooth. How did you catch her?”

  “Rafe’s face,” Gerard says simply. “When he saw her walking into the interrogation room, something shifted. He could suspect Sariah's involvement in the activation of Daisy’s curse."

  “Just from that?”

  “And I approached him in his cell. Indirectly.” Gerard allows the faintest smile. “I asked: ‘The person who answered this question—Do you know who ‘S’ could be—is it the same person I asked you about earlier?”

  Finn chuckles. “Roundabout. But clever. You sidestepped the curse.”

  Gerard’s expression hardens again. “It was enough. And Sariah knew her time was up. That’s why she sparked the fire and freed the prisoners. A last-ditch effort to buy time.”

  The instant flames erupted, a magic lockdown snapped into place. No one could teleport in or out of Narfolk now. Gerard wasted no time, sending trail-trackers racing out, resonance stones in hand to hunt the escapees. They had to catch them before anyone slipped past the barrier.

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  They press deeper into the forest beyond the southern gate. Ancient oaks and gnarled ash trees tower above, their tangled branches weaving moonlight into shifting ribbons. The air is thick with damp chill, and the earthy scent of moss and lingering smoke clings stubbornly to their clothes.

  “Wouldn’t she be gone by now?” Finn asks, looking into the darkness.

  “The trail’s still fresh.” Gerard gestures to the accompanying knights. The tracking stone in his hand pulses with a pale green glow, vibrating in sync with the one held by trail-trackers. “Might be a trap. Still, it’s our best chance.”

  He signals the knights forward. As they advance, Gerard explains the flanking formation and contingency plans, where Finn should move if spells fly, if shields fall, if things go sideways. Finn listens carefully. There's no room for mistakes.

  The woods grow denser. Even with light spells flickering ahead, visibility shrinks to mere paces. Branches snag on cloaks. A branch cracks underfoot. Everyone freezes.

  They emerge into a small clearing. At its centre, the tracking stone lies abandoned, its glow dimming.

  “Something’s not right,” Finn whispers.

  Before anyone can respond, a voice cuts through the shadows.

  “Drop your casting, if you want your friend to live.”

  Every knight freezes.

  A silhouette detaches from the trees. Colm steps forward, holding the captured trailfinder as a shield, a dagger pressed against his neck. Rafe stands at Sariah’s side, eyes narrowed, a shimmering barrier humming around them, ready to flare.

  Gerard steps into the open. “Sariah,” he says, voice unwavering, “you’re ‘S’.”

  Sariah smiles softly, almost nostalgic. It’s the same smile she wore the day she passed her trials and Gerard praised her before the order.

  “You’ve always been sharp, Sir Gerard. No—maybe I should call you by your name now.”

  “Why?” Gerard asks, eyes hard. “Why betray us?”

  “Betray? I joined them before I ever joined the knight.”

  Silence falls. A wind rustles the leaves above.

  “Why?” Gerard repeats, but now his voice is filled with sadness and disbelief.

  Sariah pauses momentarily before her lips twist into a wry, almost mocking smile. "This isn't like you. You're the one who never cracks."

  She switches her gaze to Finn. “I came to say one thing to you. About the ritual. Don’t worry. It wasn’t a complete success. But it wasn’t a failure, either.”

  Finn’s fists clench. “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean. The ritual is not only meant for new creation, but to reproduce the miracle of summoning the perfect envoy….”

  Gerard lunges forward, his movements clean and sharp.

  A dagger flashes through the air.

  The knights explode into motion, arrows and spells streaking as light floods the clearing. Their training takes over, every move precise and unstoppable.

  Sariah dodges with ease, but Colm isn’t so lucky. The first dagger was a feint. The second drives straight at him. Instinctively, he jerks the hostage’s neck away from the blade, leaving his side exposed. That’s all the opening the knights need.

  The trailfinder writhes free and dives to safety. Magic explodes in the clearing. Rafe’s barrier falters as multiple attacks bombard it, forcing him to shift focus from defence to retaliation.

  Only Sariah remains unscathed. The tide turns.

  And then—her calm voice cuts through the chaos.

  “I’d think twice before coming any closer. Unless you want something to happen to Risa.”

  The world seems to freeze in place.

  Finn steps forward, heart lurching. “What have you done to her?”

  Sariah lifts her hands innocently. “Oh, nothing. I merely watched over her while she was unconscious in the Sanctuary. But if I were you, I’d get her checked. Thoroughly.”

  Finn glances at Gerard, conflict flickering in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t risk her.”

  A heavy silence settles. Gerard clenches his jaw, then gives a single, reluctant nod.

  “We’ll let you go. But next time, I will put you behind bars.”

  Sariah’s smile returns. “With you chasing me? I’ll have to be more careful. Always looking over my shoulder.”

  Her smile slips away. She locks eyes with Gerard, then with Finn.

  “Goodnight, gentlemen. Until next time.”

  She activates the teleportation stone. Light erupts, and in an instant, they are gone.

  Silence settles over the forest again.