Page 278 of Sokâr

“I’m glad she had whatever that was. It saved her. But Void-take it, Resh—what did it cost? She’s hollowed out. She can’t rely on that storm.”

“It isn’t something to be used.”

“Good. Because Sevrion’s dead, but treason like that doesn’t build itself. Someone opened doors. Moved the Godblind without every bell in the Lattices howling. Spread rumors to throw off the scent. That means rot we can’t see.”

Kailorien nodded once. “You’ll find it.”

“I’ll try. But hear me. Pulling your sword across the city won’t show you the hands behind this. They’re patient. Clever. They work through people who want to be fooled.”

“Since when does the Bloodletter deal in politics?”

Zarrek gave him a withering look. “Since his Commander stopped needing a soldier and started needing someone to watch his back.”

“You always did that anyway.” Kailorien smiled, wistful.

“Yeah, from beasts and monsters. Now you play with shadows and gods.”

Kailorien’s smile faded. “What do you need?”

“Three things. First, a shadow ring on her rooms—my people, not Drex's. Invisible, rotating, never routine. Second, the Godblind sealed under my sign as well as yours, and anyone who touched it reassigned where we can watch them. Third, Lamari Dross writes the record, but you’ll give him the narrative. If the city believes this was a miracle instead of a mess, the dissenters won’t gather in the open. We buy time.”

Kailorien nodded. “Done. All of it.”

Zarrek exhaled, a shard of wryness cutting the tension. “That easy?”

“You saved Lu’ma. You trained Auryn. And now you’re stepping back into the fire for her. I don’t waste competence.”

Something akin to a smile ghosted Zarrek's mouth and died. “Speaking of Lu’ma—she needs chains, not bandages. You were right to send her to the baths, but she’ll try to stand watch again in an hour.”

“Then make sure she doesn’t.”

“I’ll sit on her if I have to.”

“Good,” Kailorien said. “Because I can’t—not anymore.”

On the bed, Auryn’s breath caught and eased. His Breathwoven mana answered, a faint thrum beneath her sternum. Zarrek’s eyes followed thehalting motion of her chest, then slid back to Kailorien. He hesitated, as if weighing whether to unsheathe a blade.

“I saw him. Shu’Khan. Leaving the White Hall while the stone was still hot.”

Kailorien’s fingers closed and opened.

“Talk to me.”

“Not now.” Kailorien's voice cut quiet, hard. “I don’t know enough, and I can’t think past her breathing. When I have words that aren’t threats, you’ll have them.”

Zarrek studied him a long moment. “You made a deal.”

"I did. A Campaign. To subdue Vargrún's madness and to find a relic in the Shifting Mire."

"And in return?"

"My brother will interfere with anyone that wishes her harm while I am gone."

"Resh, you could protect her if you stayed," but he stopped. Gave Kailorien a hard look. "You can't stay, can you?"

Kailorien said nothing. The red along his forearms pulsed once, twice, then sank to a simmer.

Zarrek let the silence hurt, then nodded like a man acknowledging a wound he couldn’t stitch. “Fine. But if you can still negotiate, now’s the time. I’ll build the net by nightfall. I’ll start in the Selen—anyone who moved a key without a second signature, anyone who signed out those shackles—I want their names.”