The Labyrinth Market was chaos incarnate. Vendors shouted over one another, haggling with potential customers for glowing trinkets, suspiciously damp books, and jars filled with unidentifiable substances. The air smelled of soot, spice, and desperation—a perfect metaphor for my current situation.

  Aeryn moved like she belonged here, slipping between crowds with practiced ease. Her silver hair, tied back now, caught the light from flickering lanterns, and her violet eyes darted constantly, scanning for threats.

  Me? I was just trying not to get trampled.

  “How much farther?” I asked, sidestepping a group of children playing with a toy that hissed and sparked ominously.

  “Not far,” Aeryn said without looking back. “But you’ll need to pick up the pace. Unless you feel like explaining to those bounty hunters why you’re holding a shard of the Threads.”

  “Great motivational speech,” I muttered, clutching the shard tighter.

  Behind us, I heard the clatter of boots against cobblestones.

  “They’re closing in,” Aeryn said, her tone calm but sharp. “We’ll have to lose them before we reach the exit.”

  “Suggestions?”

  She glanced at me, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re the one with the shard, Vale. Think of something clever.”

  The shard pulsed faintly in my hand, warm and alive. I could almost feel it waiting—eager for me to use it. The whispers in my head were louder now, threading through my thoughts like a song I couldn’t quite catch.

  “Fine,” I muttered. “Stay close.”

  We turned a corner, ducking into a narrow alleyway cluttered with broken crates and discarded metal. I crouched beside a stack of loose rubble and held up the shard, focusing on the largest piece of debris.

  “Fracture,” I whispered.

  The shard’s glow brightened, and the rubble cracked, breaking into smaller fragments. I closed my eyes, imagining the pieces shifting, sliding into place. The fractured stone reassembled into a crude wall, blocking the entrance to the alley.

  “Not bad,” Aeryn said, watching me with a raised eyebrow. “Functional and dramatic.”

  “It’ll buy us a few seconds,” I said, standing.

  “Then let’s not waste them.”

  We moved quickly, cutting through the twisting alleys of the market. The noise and crowd worked in our favor, masking our presence. But as we rounded another corner, Aeryn stopped abruptly, her shadows flickering.

  “What now?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer. Instead, her hand moved to the hilt of her shadow blade.

  “That’s far enough,” a voice said.

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  A woman stepped out from the shadows of a nearby stall, her movements smooth and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. She wore a sleek black ensemble—fitted leather armor adorned with intricate straps and subtle silver accents. Tattoos peeked out from beneath her gloves, curling like forgotten runes along her forearms. Her cropped black hair framed a sharp, angular face, and her piercing gaze flicked between Aeryn and me, her expression a mix of amusement and danger. “Lyra,” Aeryn said, her tone flat.

  “Hello, Aeryn,” the woman said, smiling faintly. “It’s been a while.”

  “Not long enough,” Aeryn replied, drawing her blade.

  Lyra chuckled, her gaze settling on me. “And you must be the thief. Sion Vale, right?”

  “Depends on who’s asking,” I said, taking a step back.

  Lyra tilted her head, amused. “Relax. I’m not here to kill you. Yet.”

  “Comforting,” I muttered.

  She turned her attention back to Aeryn. “You’ve been causing quite a stir, dragging him around. What’s the endgame, Aeryn? You think you can protect him from the entire world?”

  Aeryn’s shadows surged, curling around her feet like smoke. “He’s under my protection, Lyra. And unless you want to lose this fight, I’d suggest you step aside.”

  Lyra’s smirk widened. “Always so confident. Let’s see if that confidence holds.”

  Lyra moved first, faster than I expected. Her twin daggers flashed as she lunged at Aeryn, forcing her to block with her shadow blade. Sparks—black and silver—flew as their weapons clashed, the air crackling with energy.

  “Stay back!” Aeryn shouted, her movements fluid as she parried Lyra’s strikes.

  “Wasn’t planning on getting involved,” I said, backing toward the edge of the alley.

  The shard pulsed in my hand, the whispers growing louder. I could feel its power waiting, begging to be unleashed.

  “Come on, Aeryn,” Lyra said, her voice light and mocking. “You’re slowing down. All those shadows weighing you down?”

  Aeryn didn’t reply. Instead, her shadows surged forward, twisting around Lyra’s legs and pinning her in place. Lyra grimaced, slashing at the tendrils with her daggers, but Aeryn pressed the advantage, her blade slicing dangerously close to Lyra’s throat.

  “Give up,” Aeryn said, her tone cold.

  “Not a chance,” Lyra growled, her daggers flashing in a desperate counterattack.

  As the two women fought, I noticed movement at the far end of the alley. A group of bounty hunters—Scarface and his friends—were closing in fast.

  “Fantastic,” I muttered.

  Aeryn was too focused on Lyra to notice, and I doubted she could handle all of them at once. The shard hummed in my hand, its glow growing stronger.

  “Time to get clever,” I said to myself.

  I crouched, grabbing a loose piece of rubble from the ground. Holding it in one hand, I pressed the shard against it and focused.

  Fracture it. Shape it.

  The shard’s power surged, splitting the rubble into smaller pieces. I willed the fragments upward, sending them spiraling into a cloud of glowing shards.

  The bounty hunters stopped in their tracks, shielding their faces as the shards swirled toward them.

  “What the—?!” Scarface shouted, stumbling back.

  “Go!” I yelled to Aeryn, the strain of holding the fragments making my vision blur.

  She glanced back, her eyes narrowing. With a final surge of shadows, she forced Lyra back and sprinted toward me.

  The glowing fragments crashed to the ground as I released my hold, the energy dissipating. Aeryn grabbed my arm, pulling me into another alley.

  “You’re getting better,” she said, her voice low but impressed.

  “Thanks,” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Let’s hope it’s enough to keep us alive.”

  As we ran, I glanced back. Lyra stood at the far end of the alley, her daggers gleaming in the dim light. She didn’t follow, but the sharp smile on her face sent a shiver down my spine.

  “This isn’t over, Vale,” she called, her voice cutting through the noise. “I’ll be seeing you.”

  I didn’t bother replying. There wasn’t any point.

  The city’s outskirts were different from the chaotic market district we’d just escaped. The air was clearer here, the sounds of life fading into a strange, oppressive quiet. The sprawling markets and jagged rooftops gave way to cracked streets lined with derelict buildings, their windows shattered and walls crumbling.

  Aeryn paused at the edge of a collapsed bridge, glancing back at me. “We need to keep moving. The bounty won’t just disappear because we made it this far.”

  I nodded, adjusting the strap on my coat and following her lead. The shard pulsed faintly in my pocket, its whispers a constant reminder of what was at stake.

  As we left the remnants of the city behind, the air grew colder, sharper. The lights of Zephyris dimmed behind us, the glow of the Threads fading as we crossed into the barren stretch of land that marked the Outlands.