Page 72 of She Who Was Severed

“I didn’t come here for some test.”

“Of course you did. You just didn’t mark it in your calendar.” His grin widens. “No quizzes, though. No riddles. Just a simple question: are you in, or are you still waiting for the Chain to rescue you again?”

I don’t answer. Not right away.

He shrugs. “I’m not offering training. I’m offering blood. You want to understand the Chain? Prove you won’t flinch the next time it bites.”

“What happens if I say no?”

“Then you keep surviving by accident. Which, let’s be honest, has worked for you so far. But eventually?” He lifts a hand, shrugs. “Something bites back.”

He lets the silence sit. Then he snaps his fingers once. “You may as well come out now.”

My heart skips.

A boot scrapes stone behind me.

Vale steps out of the shadows, arms crossed, face unreadable.

“You were about as subtle as a bonfire in a graveyard,” she mutters.

“You followed me?” I blurt.

“Obviously.”

Owen doesn’t miss a beat. “Good instincts. Very stabby. Keep her close.”

Vale’s eyes narrow. “You keep talking like that and I’ll demonstrate.”

He bows slightly. “Delighted.”

I shoot her a look. “You could’ve said something.”

“You looked like you needed to do this alone.”

“So you followed me anyway?”

She shrugs. “Figured someone had to make sure you didn’t get gutted by a smug priest with a savior complex.”

Owen places a hand over his heart. “Savior’s a strong word. Let’s go with prophet. Less messy.”

The Chain pulses again—low and sure.

His gaze sharpens. “You’re standing in front of a door. You can keep pretending it’s a wall, or you can open it.”

“What’s behind it?”

He grins, not kindly. “Something that won’t let you walk out the same way you walked in.”

He tosses something. A scrap of folded parchment lands at my feet.

“East stepwell. Old ruin sealed under it. Wardings are cracked. If the Chain wants in, it’ll find a way.”

He glances at Vale, eyes bright with mischief. “Take stabby if you like.”

Vale snorts. “Call me stabby again and I’ll turn your spine into a scarf and sell it at the market.”

Then she nudges the parchment with her toe like it might bite.