I felt exposed.
Like prey.
The ghosts had gone still now.
Waiting.
The storm roared.
And somewhere high above the cliffs—something roared back.
Not audibly.
But I felt it in my bones.
It vibrated through marrow.
Through blood.
Through the thin place between life and death.
Whatever had made that sound—it wasn’t random.
It had been reacting to my arrival.
I pressed my palm flat against the tavern table to steady myself.
I had come here for answers.
For control.
For the ability to turn it off.
Instead—it felt like something had just turned me on.
Like a beacon.
Like a flare shot into the dark.
And something ancient had looked up.
Sapphire swallowed.
“You feel it too, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
Emery’s voice was almost reverent.
“I think maybe something very old just noticed you.”
The door of the tavern creaked open under a violent gust of wind.
Rain blew in sideways.
Lantern flames guttered.
And in that brief flicker of darkness—every ghost in the room turned toward the doorway.
