The Secret

Kael dreamed of fire.

Not the gentle orange glow of a hearth.

Not the warm sparks of Master Rowan’s forge.

This fire was different.

It stretched endlessly in every direction.

Crimson flames covered the earth beneath his feet, yet somehow—

they did not burn him.

Kael stood alone.

Or at least, he thought he was alone.

A shadow moved beyond the flames.

Huge.

Winged.

The ground trembled beneath every step it took.

Kael tried to move.

His legs refused.

The creature approached.

Two golden eyes opened within the smoke.

Kael’s breath caught.

Then a voice spoke.

Not aloud.

Inside him.

Find—

Kael’s eyes snapped open.

He sat upright in bed.

His chest rose and fell rapidly.

For several seconds, he had no idea where he was.

Then he recognized the wooden ceiling above him.

His room.

Morning sunlight.

The familiar crooked shelf beside the wall.

Kael slowly exhaled.

“A dream…”

He rubbed his face.

His skin felt unusually warm.

Too warm.

He touched his forehead.

No fever.

At least he didn’t think so.

Then he smelled something.

Smoke.

Kael froze.

He looked around.

Nothing.

Then his eyes dropped toward his blanket.

A small black mark covered the fabric near his right hand.

Kael stared at it.

“…What?”

He touched the mark.

The cloth crumbled slightly beneath his fingers.

Burned.

His eyes moved toward the candle beside his bed.

Unlit.

The fireplace across the room had gone cold hours ago.

Kael looked at his hand.

Nothing appeared unusual.

“No.”

He shook his head.

“I probably knocked the candle over last night.”

He looked at the candle again.

It was still sitting perfectly upright.

Kael frowned.

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

A pebble struck his window.

Tap.

Kael closed his eyes.

“Of course.”

Another pebble.

Tap.

Then—

“Kael!”

He opened the window.

Lyra stood below.

This time, she was holding an entire handful of stones.

Kael stared at them.

“Why do you have so many?”

“Preparation.”

“For what?”

“You.”

“That is concerning.”

Lyra smiled.

“You’re awake.”

“I was already awake.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“That might be the first time in recorded history.”

Kael leaned against the window frame.

“What do you want?”

“We’re going to the eastern orchard.”

“Why?”

“Because I told Mara we’d help.”

Kael paused.

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

“Why did you volunteer me?”

“Because you’re strong.”

Kael frowned.

Lyra’s smile widened.

“You carried ten grain sacks yesterday.”

“I knew I was going to regret that.”

“You should have pretended to struggle.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed a strategy for carrying grain.”

“You always need a strategy.”

Kael sighed.

“I’ll be down.”

Lyra pointed one stone toward him.

“You have five minutes.”

“You’re not throwing that.”

“Four minutes.”

Kael closed the window.

Kael dressed quickly.

His clothes were much the same as the day before—dark trousers, black boots, a charcoal shirt, and his worn dark-red tunic.

He fastened his belt.

Sword.

Pouch.

Cloak.

He stopped.

“Everything.”

For once.

He reached for the door.

Then glanced back toward the burned blanket.

His smile faded.

After a moment, Kael pulled the blanket over the mark.

He would figure it out later.

Probably.

Lyra was waiting beside the road when Kael emerged.

She wore her usual burgundy tunic beneath her brown jacket. Her bow rested across her back, while the short sword remained at her hip.

Kael glanced at the handful of stones.

“You still have those?”

“Motivation.”

“Put them down.”

“No.”

They started walking.

The morning air was cool.

Kael liked it.

Usually.

Today, however, he felt strangely warm beneath his clothes.

Lyra looked at him.

“You’re quiet.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because you haven’t complained once.”

Kael looked at her.

“I’m not always complaining.”

“You complain about waking up.”

“That’s reasonable.”

“Work.”

“Also reasonable.”

“Training.”

“When you cheat.”

“I do not cheat.”

“You threw a branch at me.”

“It was tactical.”

Kael shook his head.

Lyra watched him for another moment.

Then her expression softened.

“Did you sleep badly?”

Kael hesitated.

“Had a strange dream.”

Lyra slowed.

“What kind?”

“Fire.”

“That doesn’t sound strange for you.”

Kael gave her a look.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You stare at fire all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You absolutely do.”

Kael looked ahead.

“It wasn’t normal fire.”

Lyra waited.

Kael searched for the words.

“There was something inside it.”

“What?”

“I couldn’t see clearly.”

“A monster?”

“Maybe.”

“A dragon?”

Kael looked at her.

“Why a dragon?”

Lyra shrugged.

“Because of yesterday.”

The red light.

The distant roar.

Neither of them had spoken about it afterward.

Kael’s expression changed.

“You heard it too, didn’t you?”

Lyra stopped walking.

Kael stopped beside her.

“The sound near the mountains,” he continued.

Lyra looked away.

“I thought I imagined it.”

“I heard something.”

“You said you didn’t.”

“I didn’t want you thinking I was losing my mind.”

Lyra crossed her arms.

“So you let me think I was losing mine instead?”

“When you put it like that…”

“Kael.”

“Sorry.”

She sighed.

“What did you hear?”

“A roar.”

Lyra’s expression became serious.

“So did I.”

For several seconds, they stood silently on the road.

Kael looked toward the distant mountains.

Nothing unusual.

No crimson clouds.

No enormous shadows.

Just morning mist.

“It was probably some animal.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow.

“What animal makes a sound we can hear from mountains several days away?”

“A very loud one.”

“That explanation is terrible.”

“It’s all I have.”

Lyra started walking again.

Kael followed.

Neither mentioned the strange warmth inside their chests.

The eastern orchard belonged to Mara Fenwick, an elderly widow who had lived in Larkspur longer than Kael could remember.

She was waiting beside several wooden baskets when they arrived.

“There you are!”

Lyra waved.

“Morning!”

Mara looked behind her.

“And you actually managed to bring him.”

Kael frowned.

“Why is everyone surprised when I arrive?”

Mara pointed at him.

“Because I remember when you slept through the midsummer festival.”

“I was twelve.”

“You slept until evening.”

“I was tired.”

“You missed an entire parade.”

“It was probably a very good parade.”

Lyra laughed.

Kael sighed.

“Where do you need us?”

Mara gestured toward the trees.

“Storm knocked half the apples down last night. The good ones need gathering before the deer find them.”

Kael looked at the baskets.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Lyra immediately grabbed one.

Kael took two.

Mara watched.

“You really are getting stronger.”

Kael nearly dropped one.

Lyra smirked.

“I told you.”

Kael muttered—

“Everyone needs to stop saying that.”

Mara tilted her head.

“Why?”

“No reason.”

He walked toward the trees.

Lyra hurried after him.

For the next hour, they gathered apples.

It should have been boring.

Lyra found a way to make it competitive.

“Thirty-eight.”

Kael dropped another apple into his basket.

“Forty-one.”

“That one was bruised.”

“It counts.”

“No.”

“You don’t make the rules.”

“I started the competition.”

“That means nothing.”

“It means everything.”

Kael reached for another apple.

Lyra grabbed it first.

He stared at her.

She smiled.

“Forty.”

“You’re a terrible person.”

“I’m winning.”

“You’re not.”

Lyra tossed the apple into her basket.

Kael looked toward another tree.

A bright red apple hung unusually high on one of the branches.

He pointed.

“That one.”

Lyra followed his gaze.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“It’s too high.”

“That sounds like surrender.”

Lyra narrowed her eyes.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

She put down her basket.

Lyra grabbed the lower branch and began climbing.

Kael folded his arms.

“This seems safe.”

“Quiet.”

“You said it was too high.”

“I changed my mind.”

“You could just use your bow.”

“And ruin the apple?”

“Fair point.”

Lyra climbed higher.

The branch bent beneath her weight.

Kael’s smile disappeared.

“Lyra.”

“I have it.”

“That branch looks—”

CRACK.

“—bad.”

The branch broke.

Lyra fell.

“Kael!”

Everything happened at once.

Kael moved.

He didn’t think.

One moment he was standing several paces away.

The next—

Lyra crashed into his arms.

Kael staggered backward.

But he did not fall.

Silence.

Lyra stared at him.

Kael stared back.

The broken branch struck the ground beside them.

Neither moved.

Finally, Lyra blinked.

“How did you do that?”

Kael frowned.

“Do what?”

“You were over there.”

She pointed toward his basket.

It was several yards away.

Kael looked.

Then back at her.

“I ran.”

Lyra remained in his arms.

“You ran?”

“Yes.”

“That fast?”

“I guess?”

Lyra looked at the distance again.

Kael suddenly became aware that he was still holding her.

Their faces were closer than usual.

Lyra noticed too.

Her cheeks colored slightly.

“You can put me down now.”

“Oh.”

Kael immediately lowered her.

Lyra adjusted her jacket.

Kael looked anywhere except directly at her.

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing broken?”

“Except my dignity.”

“That was already damaged.”

Lyra punched his shoulder.

“Ow.”

“You deserved that.”

She looked back toward the broken branch.

Her teasing expression faded.

“Seriously, Kael.”

“What?”

“That wasn’t normal.”

Kael swallowed.

“I just reacted.”

“You crossed that distance before I hit the ground.”

“Adrenaline?”

“That doesn’t make your legs move like lightning.”

Kael looked down at himself.

He had no explanation.

Lyra noticed something else.

“Your eyes.”

Kael looked at her.

“What about them?”

She stepped closer.

For a second, she said nothing.

Then she frowned.

“Never mind.”

“What?”

“I thought…”

She shook her head.

“I thought they looked different.”

“Different how?”

“Brighter.”

Kael laughed nervously.

“Now you’re imagining things.”

“Maybe.”

Neither sounded convinced.

Mara called from the other side of the orchard.

“Everything all right?”

Lyra immediately shouted—

“Fine!”

Kael looked at her.

She lowered her voice.

“We’re talking about this later.”

“About what?”

She pointed at him.

“That.”

“That is extremely specific.”

“You know what I mean.”

Kael sighed.

Unfortunately—

he did.

The afternoon passed without further incidents.

Almost.

Kael accidentally snapped the handle off one of Mara’s baskets.

Lyra laughed for nearly five minutes.

Kael did not.

Mara blamed the old wood.

Kael gladly accepted that explanation.

By the time they left, the sun was high overhead.

Lyra carried a small sack of apples Mara had given them as thanks.

Kael walked beside her.

For several minutes, neither spoke.

Then Lyra said—

“I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.”

She elbowed him.

“About yesterday.”

“The wolves?”

“Yes.”

Kael’s expression changed.

“They probably lost interest.”

“They were afraid of you.”

“You said that already.”

“And today you moved faster than I’ve ever seen anyone move.”

Kael stopped.

Lyra turned.

“What?”

He looked around.

The road was empty.

“Something happened this morning.”

Lyra’s teasing disappeared.

“What?”

Kael hesitated.

Then—

“My blanket was burned.”

She stared.

“What?”

“There was a burned mark beside my hand.”

“Did you leave a candle burning?”

“No.”

“Fireplace?”

“Cold.”

Lyra stepped closer.

“Were you burned?”

“No.”

“Show me your hand.”

“Lyra—”

“Kael.”

He held out his right hand.

Lyra took it.

She turned it over.

Nothing.

No burns.

No blisters.

No redness.

Her fingers remained around his hand for a moment longer than necessary.

Kael looked at her.

Lyra noticed.

She released him immediately.

“That’s strange.”

“Yes.”

“Maybe something fell onto the blanket.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.”

“A tiny fire monster?”

Lyra glared at him.

“You’re joking about this?”

“I’m trying not to panic.”

That stopped her.

Kael looked down at his hand.

“I don’t know what’s happening.”

Lyra’s expression softened.

Neither did she.

She stepped beside him.

“Then we figure it out.”

Kael glanced at her.

“We?”

“Obviously.”

“You could stay out of it.”

Lyra stared at him as if he had suggested the sky was green.

“Have you met me?”

Kael smiled slightly.

“Unfortunately.”

She punched his arm again.

“Stop doing that.”

“Then stop deserving it.”

They continued toward Larkspur.

They never reached the village.

Not immediately.

Halfway there, Lyra stopped so suddenly Kael nearly walked into her.

“What?”

She raised one hand.

“Quiet.”

Kael listened.

Nothing.

Then—

Lyra’s eyes widened.

“Someone’s screaming.”

Kael heard only wind.

“Where?”

“That way.”

She pointed toward the forest.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“I do.”

Lyra immediately ran.

“Lyra!”

Kael followed.

They left the road and pushed through the undergrowth.

Branches struck their clothes.

Lyra moved confidently.

Too confidently.

As though she knew exactly where the sound was coming from.

“Left!”

Kael followed.

“How can you hear them?”

“I don’t know!”

A faint sound finally reached him.

A child crying.

Kael’s stomach tightened.

They burst through the trees.

A small boy was trapped beside a fallen log.

Kael recognized him.

“Tomas?”

The child looked up.

“Kael!”

One ankle was pinned beneath a heavy branch.

Beside him stood something much worse.

A boar.

Not an ordinary one.

The creature was enormous—nearly as tall as Kael’s waist, with black bristles and two long tusks curving from its jaws.

Blood stained its shoulder.

An arrow protruded from its side.

Wounded.

Angry.

The boar scraped one hoof against the earth.

Lyra immediately drew her bow.

Kael reached for his sword.

“Tomas,” Kael said quietly, “don’t move.”

The boy sobbed.

“I can’t!”

The boar charged.

“Kael!”

Kael drew his sword.

Lyra fired.

THUNK!

The arrow struck the boar’s shoulder.

It barely slowed.

Kael moved in front of Tomas.

He raised his sword.

The boar slammed into him.

CRASH!

Kael was thrown backward.

He struck the ground hard.

“Kael!”

The boar turned.

Lyra fired again.

The arrow missed as the beast jerked sideways.

It charged her.

Kael’s heart stopped.

“LYRA!”

Something inside him exploded.

Heat.

Violent.

Sudden.

Kael pushed himself up.

The world changed.

Everything slowed.

He saw the boar’s hooves tearing through dirt.

Lyra reaching for another arrow.

The movement of individual leaves in the wind.

He heard Lyra’s heartbeat.

He heard Tomas crying.

He even heard the blood rushing through the wounded animal.

Kael moved.

One step.

Two.

He reached Lyra before the boar did.

He grabbed her around the waist and threw them both aside.

The animal passed inches from them.

They hit the ground.

Lyra gasped.

Kael rolled up.

The boar turned again.

Kael stared at it.

Something hot rose into his throat.

For one terrifying instant—

he wanted to roar.

Not shout.

Roar.

Kael clenched his jaw.

“What…”

The boar charged again.

Kael raised his sword.

“Enough!”

He swung.

The flat of the blade struck the boar’s head.

The impact sounded like a hammer hitting stone.

The animal was knocked sideways.

It rolled across the ground.

Kael froze.

Lyra slowly lowered her bow.

The boar staggered upright.

It looked at Kael.

Then its behavior changed.

Exactly like the wolves.

Its ears lowered.

It backed away.

Kael did not move.

The creature gave a frightened grunt.

Then turned and disappeared between the trees.

Silence.

Kael’s sword hung at his side.

Lyra stared at him.

“What…”

Kael looked at his weapon.

The steel blade was bent.

“…did I just do?”

Tomas’s crying broke the silence.

Lyra immediately moved.

“Tomas.”

She knelt beside him.

Kael forced himself to focus.

Together, they lifted the fallen branch enough for Tomas to pull his leg free.

Again, the wood felt strangely light in Kael’s hands.

He tried not to think about it.

The boy’s ankle was swollen, but he could move it.

Lyra wrapped it tightly using a strip of cloth.

“What were you doing out here?” she asked.

Tomas wiped his face.

“I followed Dad.”

“Your father?”

“He went hunting.”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Kael and Lyra exchanged looks.

That was a problem.

Lyra suddenly turned her head.

“What?”

Kael asked.

She listened.

Footsteps.

This time, Kael heard them too.

A man crashed through the brush.

“Tomas!”

“Dad!”

The hunter dropped his bow and ran toward his son.

He pulled Tomas into his arms.

“What happened?”

“A boar.”

The man looked at Kael and Lyra.

“You fought it?”

Lyra nodded.

“It ran.”

The hunter saw Kael’s bent sword.

His expression changed.

“That was straight this morning.”

Kael stared at it.

“Yeah.”

“What did you hit?”

Kael forced a laugh.

“Tree.”

Lyra looked at him.

Kael gave her a subtle glance.

The hunter frowned.

“With a sword?”

“Long story.”

Fortunately, his attention immediately returned to Tomas.

“Can you stand?”

“With help.”

“I’ll carry you.”

The man lifted his son.

He looked back at Kael and Lyra.

“Thank you.”

Kael nodded.

“Just get him home.”

The hunter disappeared toward the road.

When he was gone—

Lyra turned toward Kael.

“You lied.”

“So?”

“You are terrible at lying.”

“I panicked.”

“A tree?”

“It was the first thing I thought of.”

Lyra looked at the bent sword.

“You hit a wounded boar hard enough to throw it across the ground.”

“Yes.”

“With the flat of your sword.”

“Yes.”

“And bent the blade.”

“Yes.”

“Kael.”

“I know.”

She stepped closer.

“What happened?”

Kael looked toward where the boar disappeared.

“I don’t know.”

“You moved like you did at the orchard.”

“I know.”

“Faster.”

“I know.”

“And your eyes did it again.”

Kael turned sharply.

“What?”

Lyra looked directly into them.

“They changed.”

His mouth went dry.

“What color?”

“Gold.”

Kael laughed.

She didn't.

His laughter died.

“Lyra…”

“For a second, they were gold.”

“That’s impossible.”

“I know what I saw.”

Kael stepped backward.

“No.”

“Kael.”

“No. People’s eyes don’t just change color.”

Lyra watched him carefully.

His breathing had become faster.

She reached out.

“Hey.”

Kael looked at her.

“We don’t know what this is.”

“That’s the problem.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“How?”

Lyra hesitated.

She did not have an answer.

Kael looked at his hands.

The strange dream.

The burned blanket.

His strength.

His speed.

The animals.

His eyes.

Something was wrong with him.

The thought terrified him more than the boar had.

Then Lyra suddenly winced.

Kael immediately noticed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You made a face.”

“I landed badly.”

“Where?”

“My shoulder.”

She moved her left arm.

Pain flashed across her expression.

Kael stepped closer.

“Let me see.”

“I’m fine.”

“Lyra.”

She sighed.

“Now you’re copying me.”

“Take the jacket off.”

Lyra gave him an unimpressed look.

“My shoulder, Kael.”

“That’s what I meant.”

“I know. You just looked horrified after saying it.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

Kael’s face warmed.

Lyra smiled despite herself.

She removed the jacket carefully.

Her burgundy tunic covered her shoulder.

Kael examined it.

“No blood.”

“Good.”

“Can you move?”

Lyra raised her arm.

A faint cracking sound came from somewhere nearby.

Both froze.

Kael looked around.

“What was that?”

Lyra did too.

“Branch?”

Another crack.

This time—

it came from Lyra.

Her eyes widened.

She looked at her shoulder.

The pain vanished from her expression.

Slowly, she moved her arm.

Once.

Twice.

Kael stared.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“But it just did.”

“I know.”

Lyra touched her shoulder.

“It feels fine.”

Kael frowned.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Lyra’s expression changed.

A bruise had started forming on her skin.

Right before their eyes—

it faded.

Kael forgot how to breathe.

Lyra stared at the spot.

Within seconds, the bruise was gone.

Neither spoke.

Finally—

Lyra whispered:

“Kael.”

“Yeah?”

“I think something might be wrong with me too.”

They returned to their training ground instead of going directly home.

Neither wanted anyone else hearing the conversation.

Lyra sat on the broken stone wall.

Kael paced.

“We need to tell someone.”

“Who?”

“Our parents.”

Lyra frowned.

“What exactly do we say?”

Kael stopped.

“Hello, apparently I can throw boars?”

“Strong opening.”

“And your injuries disappear?”

“Also good.”

Kael sighed.

“This is ridiculous.”

Lyra stared at her hands.

“Has anything like this happened before?”

“Not that I remember.”

She thought.

“There were little things.”

Kael looked at her.

“Like?”

“I hear things.”

“You’ve always had good hearing.”

“No.”

Lyra looked toward him.

“I mean things I shouldn’t hear.”

Kael remained silent.

“Sometimes I can hear people talking from across the village,” she continued. “Not always. Just… sometimes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought everyone could do it.”

Kael stared.

“Everyone?”

“When I was little.”

“And later?”

“I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

Kael sat beside her.

“Anything else?”

Lyra hesitated.

“I almost never get sick.”

“That’s not strange.”

“You got fever last winter.”

“So?”

“Half the village did.”

Kael understood.

“You didn’t.”

“No.”

Lyra looked toward the forest.

“And when I get cut…”

Kael frowned.

“What?”

“It heals quickly.”

“How quickly?”

“Usually by the next day.”

“That isn’t normal.”

“I’m becoming aware of that.”

Kael looked at his own hands.

Lyra glanced sideways.

“What about you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think.”

Kael did.

Heat.

Fire.

Strength.

There had been times during winter when everyone complained about the cold while he barely felt it.

Times when he had grabbed hot cookware without thinking and suffered no burns.

He had always assumed luck.

“Fire doesn’t bother me much.”

Lyra turned.

“How much is ‘much’?”

Kael hesitated.

“When I was thirteen, I grabbed an iron pan from the hearth.”

“You burned yourself.”

“No.”

Lyra stared.

“You told your mother you used a cloth.”

“I lied.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought she’d be angry that I touched it.”

Lyra laughed once.

Then stopped.

“Wait.”

Kael nodded.

“I didn’t get burned.”

Lyra looked troubled.

“So you’re unusually strong, fast, resistant to heat…”

“And you heal quickly and hear things from impossible distances.”

Silence.

Lyra finally said—

“Maybe we’re cursed.”

Kael stared at her.

“That is the first explanation you choose?”

“You have a better one?”

“No.”

“Then cursed.”

“I don’t like cursed.”

“I don’t particularly like any explanation right now.”

Kael looked toward Larkspur in the distance.

“We’ve lived here our whole lives.”

Lyra followed his gaze.

“Yeah.”

“If something was wrong with us…”

Kael stopped.

Lyra understood the thought.

“…someone might already know.”

They looked at each other.

Neither wanted to say it.

Their parents.

Their families.

People who had raised them.

Could they know something?

Lyra shook her head.

“No.”

“What?”

“We aren’t accusing anyone until we know more.”

Kael nodded reluctantly.

“So what do we do?”

Lyra thought for several seconds.

Then she held out her hand.

“We keep this between us.”

Kael looked down.

“A secret?”

“Until we understand what’s happening.”

“What about the hunter?”

“He saw the sword. Not what happened.”

“The storyteller yesterday looked at us strangely.”

Lyra frowned.

“You noticed?”

“Yes.”

“So did I.”

Kael took her hand.

“Then no one else.”

“No one.”

Lyra tightened her grip.

“Promise?”

Kael looked into her eyes.

“Promise.”

For a second, neither moved.

It was a simple promise.

The sort they had made countless times as children.

This one felt different.

Heavier.

Lyra released his hand.

“Good.”

Kael leaned backward against the stone.

“So we’re cursed.”

“We are not calling it that.”

“You called it that.”

“I’ve reconsidered.”

“Already?”

“Yes.”

Kael smiled.

For the first time since the forest, the fear inside him eased.

Because whatever was happening—

Lyra was there.

And somehow, that made it less frightening.

That evening, Larkspur looked exactly the same.

Children played near the fountain.

The blacksmith closed his forge.

Farmers returned from the fields.

Lanterns appeared behind windows.

Everything was ordinary.

Kael wished he still felt ordinary.

He and Lyra separated near the village square.

“Tomorrow?” Lyra asked.

Kael nodded.

“Training ground.”

“Early.”

“How early?”

“Sunrise.”

Kael groaned.

Lyra smiled.

“I knew you'd complain eventually.”

She walked backward.

“And Kael?”

“What?”

“Don't burn any more blankets.”

Kael pointed at her.

“That isn't funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

She turned and headed home.

Kael watched until she disappeared around the corner.

Then he continued toward his house.

He did not see the figure standing inside the dark alley across the square.

A man wearing a gray traveling cloak.

The stranger had watched Kael and Lyra return.

He remained motionless until Kael disappeared inside his home.

Then he looked down.

Something rested in his palm.

A small silver disk.

A symbol had been engraved upon it.

A sword surrounded by ash-colored wings.

The emblem of the Ashen Order.

The disk was warm.

Very warm.

The man frowned.

“That’s impossible…”

He closed his hand around it.

For several seconds, he stared at Kael’s house.

Then toward the road Lyra had taken.

The silver disk grew warmer still.

The stranger's eyes narrowed.

He quietly returned it to his cloak.

“Interesting.”

And without another word—

he disappeared into the night.