They walked for most of the day before the trees began to thin.
Sara felt the change before she understood it — the air growing heavier, a faint hum returning beneath her sternum where the amulet rested. The peace of Lys Hollow faded behind them.
"We're leaving the quiet part," she said.
"We never left the Middle Realm." Devin didn't slow. "Only the quiet part."
The land opened into a wide basin ringed by broken standing stones, moss covering most of them. Smoke rose from somewhere near the center — thin and steady. A cook-fire, not a warning.
"She lives here?" Sara asked.
"She lives wherever the rifts are loudest." Devin's jaw tightened slightly. "This basin used to scream. Now it barely whispers. She already fixed whatever happened here."
A cabin stood at the center of the ruins, built from stone that didn't match the ancient structures around it. Newer. Practical.
A woman stood outside, waiting.
Sara had the strange feeling she'd known exactly when they would arrive.
Silver threaded through dark hair pulled loosely back. Her eyes found Devin first. Then Sara. Then the amulet.
In that order.
"Devin." Her voice was warm. Too warm. "You've grown taller since the last time I had to pull you out of a collapsing rift."
"Nadira." He said her name carefully, like setting down something that might still bite.
"And you brought company." Nadira smiled — warm, inviting. The hairs on Sara's arms rose anyway.
"Come in," she said. "Sit. You both look like you've been surviving on dried food and bad decisions."
Inside, the cabin was warmer than it had any right to be. Firelight flickered across stone walls. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling beams. Shelves overflowed with strange objects — stones that pulsed faintly, glass jars holding things Sara couldn't identify. One of them seemed to move when she wasn't looking directly at it.
Nadira poured tea without asking and set two cups down. The decision had clearly already been made.
She folded herself into a chair opposite them.
"So," she said. "Why is the boy who swore he'd never come back here sitting in my kitchen?"
"We need to find where the convergence is being staged," Devin said.
Nadira's hands stopped around her cup.
Only for a moment.
Then she smiled again. Almost convincing.
"That's a heavy thing to ask before you've finished your tea."
"Nadira."
"I'm not saying no." Her gaze shifted to Sara — really looked, this time. Not curiosity.
Recognition.
"I'm saying it's not a small question," she continued. "Rift activity has been rising for months. Patterns I haven't seen since—"
She stopped. The sentence never finished. She took a slow sip of tea instead.
"Since what?" Sara asked.
Nadira studied her. "Since before you were born, likely." Her eyes didn't leave Sara's. "You're the one it chose."
Silence settled over the room. Even the fire seemed quieter.
Sara felt Devin go still beside her.
"How do you know that?"
"Because I've been waiting for someone to walk through that door carrying it." Nadira's gaze lingered on the amulet. "There aren't many left. And the ones who carry them rarely arrive quietly."
Devin leaned forward. "You knew this was coming."
"I knew something was coming." The warmth in her expression flickered.
For an instant, something colder surfaced beneath it.
Then it was gone.
"I didn't know it would look like her." She looked at Sara again. "You should be more careful who you let carry it, Devin."
"he didn't ask to be." His voice was flat.
"No one ever does." Nadira smiled, and somehow that made the words worse. "That's rather the point."
Sara set her untouched tea on the table. "You said you've seen this before. Before I was born. What happened?"
Nadira was quiet for a long time, studying Sara the way someone might study a rift before deciding whether it was safe to cross.
"A convergence was attempted once," she said finally. "It failed."
"How badly?"
A small laugh, humorless. "Badly enough that we're still talking about it."
She stood, crossed the room, and came back with a rolled map — the paper brittle, ancient, well-used. She spread it across the table.
"If someone is preparing a convergence, they'll need a place where the barrier is already thin." Her finger traced several markings. "Most of those places are gone."
Then she tapped a faded circle near the edge of the map.
"There."
Devin went still.
"The Hollow Spire."
Sara looked up. "You know it."
"I know it." The answer came too fast. No explanation followed, and Nadira didn't ask for one — the silence between them said enough.
Sara looked down at the mark on the map. The amulet warmed against her chest.
Not hot. Not painful.
Aware.
As if it recognized the name.
For the first time since arriving in Veridia, Sara felt like she was standing at the edge of something much larger than herself. She looked between Nadira and Devin.
Neither of them looked surprised.
Only worried.
"Then that's where we go."