Chapter 14: Fingers in the dark - 4
The tavern had settled into a hush, its pulse slowed to a whisper.
Mira’s gentle snores drifted from the corner loft, a soft counterpoint to the hearth’s lazy crackle, its embers glowing faintly in the dim.
Outside, wind stirred the trees, their rustle like distant voices, but inside the Trail’s End, the world felt still, wrapped in the scent of polished wood and lingering ale.
Lira perched in the rafters, knees drawn up, her slender frame tucked into the shadows.
She hadn’t meant to climb so high—seeking air, distance, a moment to clear the fog of the shard’s weight.
But clarity hadn’t come.
Instead, she crouched above the main room, her emerald eyes fixed on the bar below, her breath shallow, her heart a quiet storm.
Kio stood alone, drying a set of silver tools—not knives, but slender probes, flattened tongs, clamps with a purpose both precise and intimate.
He worked with steady hands, polishing each with a cloth, his movements unhurried, reverent.