She wasn't there.
For a second—
I didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Didn't think.
The market still buzzed around me. Lanterns swayed gently overhead, casting warm light over glass trinkets and dull metal charms. A man argued over the price of fish. Someone laughed too loudly a few stalls down.
Normal.
Everything looked—
normal.
Except—
she wasn't there.
My gaze snapped left.
Right.
Back again.
Nothing.
The place she'd been standing—empty.
No small figure.
No flicker of movement.
No—
My chest tightened.
Sharp.
Immediate.
"Orenda?"
My voice came out low. Controlled.
Too controlled.
Like if I let it rise even slightly—
something else would follow.
No answer.
Of course not.
My jaw clenched.
Focus.
I forced my breathing to steady.
Forced my pulse down.
Panic wouldn't help her.
Panic wouldn't find her.
Think.
I stepped forward, slow at first, eyes scanning the ground instead of the crowd now.
Not faces.
Details.
The stall.
The table.
The space around it.
Something was wrong.
Not obvious.
But—
wrong.
A small shift in the display caught my eye.
One of the glass pieces—the ones she'd been looking at—was tipped slightly on its side.
Not fallen.
Just—
moved.
My gaze dropped lower.
There.
Footprints.
Faint.
The snow already beginning to cover them—but they were there.
Smaller.
Lighter.
Dragging slightly.
My chest tightened again.
No.
Not dragging.
Pulled.
The thread pulsed.
Hard.
A sharp, sudden spike that made something behind my ribs twist.
I sucked in a breath.
Not now.
Not—
Focus.
I crouched slightly, fingers brushing the edge of the table as I leaned closer.
The glass piece shifted under my touch.
And beneath it—
a scrap.
Tiny.
Torn.
Cloth.
My hand stilled.
I knew that fabric.
The weave.
I'd seen it earlier.
I was wearing it now.
Sky Nation cloth.
Carefully mended.
My fingers curled around it slowly.
Cold settled into my chest.
This wasn't wandering.
This wasn't a mistake.
She was taken.
The noise of the docks shifted.
Not actually—
But to me, it did.
Muted.
Distant.
Like everything had moved one step further away.
The thread pulsed again.
Stronger.
Louder.
Not words.
Not thoughts.
Just—
awareness.
Watching.
I straightened slowly.
My eyes lifted.
And this time—
I didn't look like I belonged.
I looked like something hunting.
I forced that down.
Forced it back.
Invisible.
Still invisible.
Think.
Where.
Why here.
Why now.
I turned in a slow circle, scanning the movement around me.
Workers.
Merchants.
Guards.
No one looking.
No one reacting.
Good.
Or bad.
That meant whoever took her—
knew how to do it clean.
My gaze shifted toward the darker edge of the docks.
Where the lantern light thinned.
Where movement slowed.
Where people stopped paying attention.
Of course.
My jaw tightened.
I moved.
Not fast.
Not yet.
Just—
purposeful.
Back through the crowd, retracing steps without making it obvious. I passed the stall again, letting my fingers brush the edge like I was still browsing.
Watching.
Listening.
A man nearby leaned against a post, talking low with another.
"…told you, shipments changed. Not through main dock anymore."
"Yeah? Then where?"
A pause.
A glance around.
I didn't look at them.
Didn't react.
Just adjusted my stance slightly, turning my body just enough to catch their voices without drawing attention.
"Lower access," the first man muttered.
My pulse kicked.
Lower access.
Under.
Of course.
The second man scoffed. "That place reeks. Why down there?"
"That's the point," the first replied.
I didn't wait for more.
I moved.
The further I went, the quieter it got.
Not silent.
Never silent.
But—
different.
The sounds changed.
Less voices.
More water.
Dripping.
Echoing.
The wood beneath my feet shifted—older here, worn thinner by time and use.
The air turned colder.
Heavier.
I followed the edge of the dock until I found it.
A break in the structure.
Subtle.
Hidden between stacked crates and rotting planks.
An opening.
Barely noticeable unless you knew to look.
Or were desperate enough to find it.
I paused.
Just for a second.
The thread pulsed again.
Not sharp this time.
Just—
present.
Like something leaning closer.
Watching what I would do.
I exhaled slowly.
Then stepped inside.
The world changed instantly.
The air was damp.
Thick.
The smell hit first.
Salt.
Rot.
Something worse beneath it.
The kind of smell that clung to the back of your throat.
The kind that didn't leave.
My steps slowed automatically.
Quieter.
More careful.
Water dripped somewhere deeper inside, echoing softly against stone.
Not wood anymore.
Stone.
Underground.
Good.
Or—
not.
I moved forward, letting my eyes adjust.
Dragon sight sharpened the shadows, pulling details from the darkness that shouldn't have been visible.
The space opened slightly ahead.
And then—
I heard it.
Soft.
Faint.
A sound that didn't belong to the structure.
Didn't belong to the water.
Didn't belong to anything here.
A breath.
Small.
Shaky.
My chest tightened.
I moved closer.
Slow.
Controlled.
And then—
voices.
Men.
Low.
Careless.
"…just a few more tonight."
"Boss'll be pleased."
A quiet laugh.
"And the small one? Didn't even fight."
My vision went red.
Not fully.
But enough.
The thread pulsed.
Hard.
Sharp.
My fingers curled at my sides.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Patience, little thief…
My fingernails dug crescents into my palms.
The red faded.
I stepped closer to the edge of the opening.
And looked.
Chains.
Crates.
Children.
Small.
Too small.
Huddled together in the dim light.
Different.
Not just from here.
Clothing.
Features.
Nations.
All of them.
And there—
near the front.
Still.
Silent.
Orenda.
My breath stopped.
For a second—
everything
ng inside me went very, very still.
Not calm.
Not controlled.
Something else.
Something waiting.
The thread tightened.
And this time—
it didn't feel like observation.
It felt like—
anticipation.
Give me a good show…
Raiden's voice slid down the thread.
Low.
Amused.