I believe him. Because fear that deep does not counterfeit easily.
When I return above ground,dusk has already begun its descent. The city looks unchanged. It isn’t.
The bond tightens the moment Amelia feels my proximity. I do not soften the truth before I speak it.
“There is a trafficking ring,” I say the moment I step into her chambers. “Targeting Purna magic wielders.”
Her face drains of color, but she does not falter.
“For what?” she asks.
“Extraction. Ley siphoning.”
Her hands curl into fists.
“Who?”
“A buyer named Malrend.”
Silence. The name lands like a fracture.
“You know him,” she says quietly.
“Yes.”
“How bad?”
“Strategic. Patient. Ruthless.” I meet her eyes. “If he is involved in the blight, this is not sabotage. It is cultivation.”
Her jaw sets.
“And Vira?”
“An inner-circle broker is facilitating access.”
Understanding dawns.
“She’s feeding him,” Amelia whispers.
“Possibly.”
Before I can say more, she crosses to her desk and pulls open a drawer.
“I found something else while you were gone,” she says.
She lays a folded parchment on the table between us. The seal is subtle, council wax, nothing overt. But the cipher woven into the margin is not official.
It is Vira’s hand.
I break it open. Inside is a coded message, elegant, careful. Shipment confirmed. Root integrity stable. External partner satisfied. Continue phased destabilization. The heir remains unaware.
My chest goes cold. Heir remains unaware. Amelia stands very still beside me.
“She’s been coordinating with him,” she says.
“Yes.”
“And she thinks I don’t see it.”
