Aran shifted, frowning. “Wait—sheknew? And she didn’t tell you?”
I nodded. “She said there would be more pain. I just didn’t think it would come so soon.”
“Shesaidthat?” His tone was sharp, disbelieving. “What, like some kind of warning? And then she just let it happen?”
“She said a lot of things,” I murmured.
“She could’ve been lying,” Will said. “About everything.”
“She could’ve.”
But I didn’t believe that. Not really. The voice—the one that wasn’t hers—still echoed in my bones.
“She knew things,” I explained. “Things she shouldn’t have. About me.
And about Licia.”
That made everything stop. Will stilled completely. Even Aran’s mouth, half-open for another question, snapped shut.
“Licia?” Will asked, carefully.
“She’s alive,” I said. “Or… I think she is.”
Aran shot upright. “Iknewit,” he said, almost breathless. “I knew she wasn’t dead.”
Will blinked, like he hadn’t fully registered the words. “Wait. Kera—how do you know that?”
“She didn’t say her name,” I admitted, keeping my eyes on the fire. “But she gave me clues. She told me where to find her.”
“What kind of clues?” Will leaned in, his brow furrowed.
“Golden buildings. A serpent, I think. And paintings.”
I rubbed at my wrist, still tender but healing. Fast enough that I could almost see it. “The paintings made sense. She painted her dreams, I don’t know if you knew.” I said, looking over at Aran. ”But we thought they were more like vision. Some of them came true.” I said. ”Anyways, that’s where I got stuck. Golden building, a serpent, I do’nt even know where to begin with that.. what does it mean?”"
Aran shifted, his whole posture lighting up. “Oh. I love riddles,” he said, already pushing himself upright. “What kind of serpent are we talking? Real snake? Metaphor? A painting of a snake? A snake that paints?”.
Will glared at him.
“This isn’t a joke.”
Aran tilted his head. “Iknow,” he muttered, glancing away. “But it’s something. Right? If she’s alive, we could find her.”
He trailed off, shoulders tensing. His gaze dropped to the ground, then flicked back up like a thought had just hit him.
“Golden buildings,” he repeated, slower. “Wait, you mean like... Golden Bay? Like Alevé?”
I looked up. “What?”
“You’ve heard of it,” he said. “The city is built from pale stone. When the sun hits it, it glows. Looks like pure gold. That’s why they call it the Golden Bay.”
“Are you sure?” Will asked, narrowing his eyes.
Aran tilted his head, lips twitching at the corners. “Told you. I’m good at riddles.”
Golden Bay.
The words echoed inside me like a memory I hadn’t finished having. I’d seen it marked on old maps, heard it mentioned in passingat school. It lay just beyond the edge of everything I’d ever known. A harbor city in Alevé, past the southern wall.
