Caelion walked through the corridor in silence.
The torches lined the walls, casting steady light across the stone floor. The carved doors on either side stood still and silent, their symbols unchanged. A wolf. A crown. A moon. A sword.
His footsteps made no sound against the stone. A habit from centuries of survival, one he had never bothered to break.
Behind him, a shape stirred in the darkness.
It gathered first at the edges of his vision, a flicker of movement where there should have been none. Then it took form, solidifying from the gloom into something recognizable.
A man. Tall and lean, with sharp features and eyes the color of storm clouds. His clothes were dark, unremarkable, the kind that let him blend into any crowd.
Ravien fell into step beside him.
"You called," he said.
Caelion did not slow his pace.
"Have someone keep watch on the girl."
Ravien raised an eyebrow. "Someone. Not you?"
"I have other matters to attend to."
