A cold wave rushes through my chest, stealing the air from my lungs. I search the room wildly, as though the bell might somehow be lying on the floor or tucked behind the tool racks. I check beneath tables. Behind crates. Inside cabinets I know are far too small. My movements become faster and less logical with every passing second.
“No… no, no, no…”
My voice sounds thin and breathless, like it belongs to someone else.
The bell is gone.
And the moment the realization settles fully into my mind, a second thought arrives right behind it.
The temple.
I don’t think about it. But the suspicion blooms instantly and refuses to leave. The priests have never liked my work. They tolerate it because the town does, because the festival needs it, but they have never hidden their discomfort with the way I experiment with sound and resonance.
Father Orrick specifically.
The memory of his tight smile and guarded eyes presses into my thoughts like a bruise.
My heart begins to race.
I do not yet know how I know, but the certainty settles deep in my bones.
I rush outside, scanning the square as though the bell might somehow be visible from here. People move through the streets laughing and shouting, blissfully unaware that something precious and dangerous has just vanished from the world.
What if it has already left Bellmere?
What if I never see it again?
“Roseth?” I spin at the familiar voice. Tali stands by the square clutching a basket of herbs, her wide eyes already searching my face for answers. She visits the forge often, always eager to help, always curious about whatever strange project I am working on next.
Today her usual bright energy dims the moment she sees me.
“What’s wrong?”
“My bell is gone,” I feel choked.
Her mouth falls open. “Gone?”
“Someone took it.”
Tali glances instinctively toward the temple spire rising above the rooftops. It is a reflex, almost unconscious, but I notice it instantly.
“You thought the same thing,” I say quietly.
She hesitates, her fingers tightening around the handle of her basket.
“I… I didn’t want to assume.”
My stomach drops. “Tali.”
She shifts closer, lowering her voice until it becomes barely more than a breath. “I wasn’t supposed to hear it,” she says. “I was helping Sister Maren carry candles to the lower halls yesterday. Father Orrick was speaking with someone beneath the crypt stairs. I didn’t mean to listen, but I heard him mention resonance… frequencies like the things you usually mumble while you work.”
The words send a chill racing down my spine.
“He took it,” I affirm.
The statement ignites something hot and sharp inside my chest.
Before doubt can slow me down, I turn toward the temple and begin walking.
