The streets of Ebonreach grew quieter as we moved deeper into the city, the din of merchants and traders fading behind us. The box in Lyra's pack felt heavier with every step, though it was small enough to fit in her hands. The tension between us was palpable, a shared unease neither of us spoke aloud.
"What do you think is in the box?" I asked finally, breaking the silence.
Lyra's expression darkened, though she didn't turn to look at me. "Something Velren doesn't want the guards to see. That's all we need to know."
"That's not very reassuring."
"It wasn't meant to be," she said flatly.
I frowned, gripping the hilt of my sword as we turned down another narrow alley. The air here felt thicker, like it was pressing against my skin. The buildings leaned closer together, their windows dark and unwelcoming.
"Are you sure this is the right way?" I asked.
"It's the fastest route," Lyra said. "We can't afford to draw attention by staying on the main roads."
Something about her tone made me glance over my shoulder. The shadows behind us seemed deeper than they should have been, shifting faintly as if alive.
"We're being followed," I said quietly.
Lyra didn't stop, but her hand drifted to the hilt of her sword. "How many?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "But it's more than one."
"Keep moving," she said. "If they want a fight, they'll get one. But not here."
We emerged from the alley into a wider street, the lanterns casting long shadows that danced with the flicker of their flames. The oppressive silence of the alley gave way to a low hum of activity—small groups of people huddled in corners, their faces hidden beneath hoods, and merchants whispering hurried deals to those brave enough to approach.
Lyra slowed, her eyes scanning the street. "There," she said, nodding toward a quieter section of the road. "We'll lose them in the crowd."
We moved quickly, weaving through the clusters of people. The weight of unseen eyes didn't leave, but the press of bodies gave us some cover.
"Do you think they're after the box?" I asked, keeping my voice low.
"Maybe," Lyra said. "Or maybe they're after you."
Her words sent a chill down my spine. The watchers had found us before, but this felt different. There was no oppressive sense of magic in the air, no inhuman shapes lurking just beyond sight. Whoever was following us now was human—and that made them more unpredictable.
We didn't lose them.
The figures emerged from the crowd as we neared the edge of the street, their hoods pulled low over their faces. There were three of them, each armed with short blades that glinted in the dim light. They moved with purpose, fanning out to block our path.
"Hand it over," one of them said, his voice low and gravelly.
Lyra stepped in front of me, her sword already drawn. "No."
The man smirked, his grip tightening on his blade. "Didn't think you'd make this easy. But we've got orders."
"Orders from who?" I asked, drawing my own sword.
"Doesn't matter," the man said. "You're not leaving here with that box."
They attacked without warning, their movements quick and coordinated. Lyra met the first one head-on, her blade flashing as it caught his strike and deflected it to the side. She countered with a quick thrust, forcing him back, but the others closed in quickly.
I blocked a strike aimed at my side, the force of it rattling up my arm. My counterattack was instinctive, the runes on my sword flaring briefly as I pushed forward. The figure staggered, but he didn't retreat.
"They're professionals," Lyra said, her voice sharp.
"I noticed," I muttered, dodging another swing.
Lyra's movements were fluid, her sword a blur as she kept two of them at bay. Her magic flared briefly—a whip of flame that forced one attacker to stumble—but it didn't give us much breathing room.
I focused on the one in front of me, his blade flashing in the lantern light. He lunged again, faster this time, and I barely managed to parry the strike. The runes on my sword flared brighter, the heat of the pendant at my chest surging as if in response.
The next swing came more easily, my blade moving with a speed and precision that didn't feel entirely my own. The strike connected, cutting through the man's guard and sending him staggering back.
Lyra dispatched one of her opponents with a quick, brutal slash, her movements precise and unrelenting. The last one hesitated, his gaze flicking between us before he turned and fled.
The street was quiet again, save for the heavy sound of our breathing. Lyra wiped her blade clean on the cloak of one of the fallen attackers, her expression hard.
"They knew what they were doing," she said. "This wasn't random."
"Velren didn't tell us everything," I said, sheathing my sword. The runes along its surface were still faintly glowing, the heat of the pendant lingering like an echo.
"He never does," Lyra muttered. "But we don't have time to deal with him now. If they were after the box, more will come."
I glanced at her pack, where the box was hidden. "What's so important about it?"
Lyra didn't answer immediately, her gaze scanning the street. "We'll find out soon enough," she said finally. "But first, we need to deliver it. Quickly."
The rest of the journey was tense but uneventful. The shadows of Ebonreach seemed to press closer, the city's weight settling over us like a shroud. By the time we reached our destination—a small, nondescript building on the edge of the Scholars' Quarter—I was exhausted, but the hum of tension in the air kept me alert.
Lyra knocked on the door, her movements quick and precise. A moment later, it creaked open, revealing a figure cloaked in darkness.
"You're late," the figure said, his voice low and smooth.
"We had complications," Lyra replied, her tone sharp.
The figure stepped aside, gesturing for us to enter. "No matter. You have what we need?"
Lyra reached into her pack and pulled out the box, holding it out carefully. The figure took it with gloved hands, cradling it as if it were fragile.
"You'll get your access," he said, his tone dismissive. "But be careful what you look for in the Quarter. Some secrets are better left buried."
As we left the building, the weight in the air lifted slightly, but the figure's words lingered in my mind.
"Do you think he's right?" I asked. "About the secrets?"
Lyra glanced at me, her expression unreadable. "We'll find out soon enough."
The Scholars' Quarter loomed ahead, its gates visible in the distance. Answers were close, but the shadows of Ebonreach felt closer.