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“I didn't mean to move,” he said, his voice shaking.

The words were quiet enough that only those nearest him heard, but they stilled the room. Alyra's hand drifted instinctively toward the hilt of her blade while Lora and Korvel exchanged a look neither of them wanted to explain.

Caelyn’s shoulders stiffened. His expression emptied itself before anyone could read too much from it. But this was different because he feared himself as much as the rest, and the understanding of that was breaking something inside her piece by piece.

Elowynn moved closer and reached for him, taking his hand before he could withdraw farther into that old, lonely place.

His fingers were cold, but the moment their skin touched, the tension in his body eased. It didn't disappear entirely, but it was enough for him to draw a steadying breath. The black veins beneath his skin faded, their darkness receding.

“You came toward this channel,” she said, keeping her voice low and gesturing toward it on the floor.

His gaze moved to the carved line beneath their feet. “I think it comes through here.”

“The pull you feel?”

He nodded once.

Elowynn looked down at the channel and then back toward the chamber around them. The tables, the instruments, the shelves, the records, the containment terminology.

The truth remained just beyond her grasp, but she could finally see its outline.

This room had not merely been watching the thing beneath Veylspire.

It had been monitoring some sort of network.

Behind her, Korvel spoke.

“I found something.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Knowledge buried by time can be recovered. Knowledge buried by people is another matter entirely.”

— Celestial Archives, Restricted Collection

Elowynn's fingers remained intertwined with Caelyn's as they crossed the room toward Korvel. Neither of them seemed inclined to let go.

Korvel stood beside one of the larger tables holding a thick ledger bound in cracked leather. Dust coated the cover, though the pages appeared better preserved than anything else in the chamber. Someone had taken care to protect it from moisture and decay.

Korvel opened the ledger with the same care one might use while disarming something dangerous. The parchment inside had yellowed but remained legible, and the handwriting marched across the pages in orderly columns.

At first, Elowynn thought she was looking at maintenance records. The entries tracked personnel assignments, work rotations, supply requests, and operational reports. The structure of the list looked a lot like the records kept in Veylspire. It was enough to briefly put her at ease.

But that comfort dissolved when the pattern revealed itself to her.

There were names. Dozens of them.

Scholars and engineers. Archivists and observers.

Page after page of people assigned to a place modern Veylspire pretended didn't exist.

Most meant nothing to her. A handful she recognized from obscure research papers and citations buried deep within the archives. Others belonged to families erased from public record long ago.

One entry in particular had caught her attention.

Northern Observatory Liaison — House Selvicta

Elowynn frowned as Lora pointed at it. “Wait! That’s your House.”