The tension clung to the air like smoke as Caden and Garrick made their way out of the Rust Quarter. The narrow alleys seemed to press closer around them, the dim light casting long shadows that flickered and shifted with every step. The distant hum of Aramore's forges was a constant reminder of the city's ceaseless activity, but the stillness of the streets they traversed felt unnatural.
Caden glanced over his shoulder, his unease growing with every passing moment. The flicker of movement he'd seen earlier hadn't repeated itself, but the feeling of being watched hadn't abated. His grip tightened on the shard in his pocket, its faint pulse a constant presence against his palm.
"Are we going to talk about it?" Caden asked, his voice low. "Whoever—or whatever—was following us?"
Garrick's gaze remained fixed ahead, his expression grim. "Not here. The Rust Quarter isn't the place for speculation."
"What if it's someone after the fragment?" Caden pressed, his voice rising slightly. "You said it could draw attention."
"It could," Garrick said, his tone calm but firm. "But panicking won't help. Focus. Keep walking."
Caden swallowed his retort, forcing himself to match Garrick's steady pace. The older man moved with purpose, his hand resting lightly on the staff hidden beneath his cloak. They turned another corner, the alley opening into a small square, its edges lined with shuttered windows and empty stalls.
"Here," Garrick said, his voice quieter now. He gestured toward the far side of the square, where the shadows seemed to deepen. Without waiting for a response, he slipped into the darkness, his footsteps soundless on the cobblestones.
Caden hesitated for only a moment before following. The air was cooler here, the oppressive heat of the forges replaced by a damp chill that made his skin prickle. Garrick led them through a narrow passage, emerging into a quiet street lined with boarded-up buildings.
"We should be clear for now," Garrick said, stopping beneath the overhang of a crumbling archway. He turned to Caden, his sharp eyes scanning the younger man's face. "What did you see?"
Caden shifted uncomfortably, the memory of the flicker in the shadows replaying in his mind. "I'm not sure. Just… movement. Someone—or something—ducked out of sight when I looked back."
Garrick nodded, his expression unreadable. "Could be nothing. A curious thief, a bystander. Or it could be something worse."
"The Reclaimers?" Caden asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Possibly," Garrick admitted. "Or bounty hunters. Fragments attract all kinds, and not all of them are as obvious as an Echo Beast."
The mention of Echo Beasts sent a shiver down Caden's spine, and he instinctively touched the shard in his pocket. Its energy felt subdued but coiled, like a predator waiting to strike. "What do we do now?"
"We lay low for a while," Garrick said. "The inn isn't far. If someone's tracking us, we'll need to find out why—and how much they know."
They set off again, their pace quicker now, the quiet of the abandoned street amplifying every sound. The shard's pulse grew stronger as they moved, its rhythm matching the thrum of Caden's racing heart. He couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—was closing in.
The inn came into view, its weathered sign creaking faintly in the breeze. Caden felt a flicker of relief as they stepped inside, the dim warmth of the common room a welcome change from the cold unease of the Rust Quarter. Lyra glanced up from behind the counter, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she took them in.
"Trouble?" she asked, her tone neutral.
"Nothing we can't handle," Garrick replied smoothly. He gestured for Caden to follow him upstairs, their boots creaking on the worn wooden steps.
Once inside their room, Garrick turned to Caden, his expression serious. "If someone's following us, they'll make their move soon. We need to be ready."
Caden frowned, his fingers brushing the shard. "What does that mean? Do we wait for them to attack?"
"Not necessarily," Garrick said. "But we need to draw them out—on our terms."
Before Caden could respond, a faint sound reached his ears—a soft creak, as though someone had stepped on the floorboards just outside their door. His heart leapt into his throat, and he shot Garrick a wide-eyed look.
Garrick raised a hand, signaling for silence. He moved to the door with practiced ease, pressing his ear against the wood. The sound came again, a faint shuffle, followed by a pause.
With a swift motion, Garrick flung the door open, his staff raised. The hallway was empty, but the faintest flicker of movement at the far end caught Caden's eye—a shadow slipping out of sight.
"Stay here," Garrick commanded, his voice low.
"No," Caden said, his grip tightening on the shard. "If it's about the fragment, I can't just sit here."
Garrick hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But stay close—and don't draw attention to the shard unless you have to."
They moved cautiously down the hall, the shadows stretching long in the flickering light of a single lantern. The building seemed unnaturally quiet, the usual creaks and murmurs of the inn conspicuously absent.
As they reached the staircase, Garrick froze, his eyes narrowing. "Behind us."
Caden spun, just in time to see a figure emerging from the shadows, their features obscured by a hood. The person moved with a deliberate grace, their hand resting on the hilt of a short blade.
"I don't want trouble," the figure said, their voice calm and measured. "But I need to know if you're carrying what I think you are."
Garrick stepped in front of Caden, his staff crackling faintly with arcane energy. "And who are you to ask?"
The figure chuckled, taking a step closer. "Someone who knows what fragments can do. And someone who knows they're better off in safer hands."
Caden's pulse quickened, and he felt the shard thrum in his pocket, as though reacting to the figure's presence. "What do you want?"
"Simple," the figure replied, their tone casual. "I want the fragment. Hand it over, and I'll leave you both in one piece."
Garrick's grip on his staff tightened, and Caden could feel the tension radiating off him. "Not an option," Garrick said, his voice cold.
The figure sighed, drawing their blade with a slow, deliberate motion. "I was hoping you'd say that. Makes this more fun."
The shard pulsed sharply, its energy flaring within Caden. He felt the familiar heat rising, the same power that had saved him before. As the figure lunged, Caden stepped forward, the shard's glow spilling out between his fingers.
"Caden, wait—" Garrick began, but it was too late.
The shard's energy surged outward, a pulse of raw power that sent the figure stumbling back, their blade clattering to the floor. For a moment, the hallway was bathed in its light, shadows flickering wildly against the walls.
The figure recovered quickly, their movements fluid as they melted into the darkness, disappearing down the staircase. Garrick cursed under his breath, turning to Caden with a look of exasperation.
"You just lit up the whole building," Garrick said. "We need to leave—now."
Caden swallowed hard, the shard's energy still thrumming in his veins. "Who was that?"
"Someone who knows too much," Garrick said, his voice grim. "And now, so does everyone else."
They hurried back to the room, grabbing what little they had before slipping out into the night. The city's shadows seemed darker now, the air heavier with danger. As they vanished into the labyrinthine streets, Caden couldn't help but wonder how many more would come for the fragment—and how much longer they could stay ahead of the storm.