The road turned to mud three days out from the city. Kira's boots sank with every step. The mountains had grown closer each day. Now, they loomed over everything. Their lower slopes were covered in stunted pines and gray scree. The air was colder.
Eva walked ahead, as always. She had not spoken much during the three days. A few words about direction, about water, about when to rest, and nothing more. Kira had stopped expecting conversation.
They crested a low hill and Fallow's End spread out below them. Kira stopped.
The town was not large. It was not pretty. It looked like something that had been built in a hurry and then left to fend for itself. Buildings leaned against each other for support, streets were not streets, just muddy channels cut between uneven rows of wood and stone. Smoke rose from a hundred chimneys, but it was not the clean smoke of hearth fires. It was thicker, darker, tinged with something acrid.
The mine entrance was a black gash on the side of the mountain. It sat at the far end of the town like a mouth waiting to swallow something. Kira had seen caves before, she had lived in one, but this was different. It had been carved, forced, punched into the stone by people who needed what was inside.
"A hole in the mountain," Kira murmured.
Eva glanced at her, "That is what it is."
They walked down into the town.
The noise hit first. Not the organized noise of Stonebridge, with its merchants and guild bells and cart wheels. This was a rougher sound. Shouting, hammering, the clank of ore carts on iron rails. A dog barking somewhere, a woman screaming at someone in a language Kira did not recognize.
Then the smell. Ore dust coated everything. It tickled Kira's nose, making her want to sneeze. Underneath that was cheap ale, unwashed bodies, and something else. Something metallic. Blood, maybe, or something worse.
Kira pulled her collar up over her mouth and kept walking.
The people were easy to sort. Miners moved in groups, their faces gray with dust, their shoulders slumped from a lifetime of carrying rock. They did not look at anyone. They just walked from the mine to the taverns, from the taverns to the bunkhouses, from the bunkhouses back to the mine.
Deserters stood out differently. They wore pieces of old uniforms, faded and torn, but they carried themselves like soldiers, watchful and ready. Their hands stayed close to their weapons, and their eyes followed Kira and Eva as they passed.
Merchants had stalls set up on the wider streets. They called out to the miners, to the deserters, to anyone who might have coin. Their smiles were tight and did not reach their eyes.
Then there were the obvious criminals. Kira could not have said how she knew, but she knew. The way they lounged against walls, the way they watched, the way other people stepped aside to let them pass.
"Keep walking," Eva said quietly. "Eyes ahead."
Kira obeyed.
The garrison was easy to find. It was the largest building in town, a blocky stone structure with a faded banner hanging over the door. The banner had once been blue and gold. Now, it was gray and brown, the colors leached out by sun and dust.
Two guards stood outside. They looked like deserters who had found steady work. The same watchful eyes, same hands near weapons, but their uniforms matched and they stood at attention when Eva approached.
"We are here to see the commander," Eva said. She did not ask. She stated.
One guard went inside. The other stayed, his eyes moving between Eva and Kira. He did not speak.
A moment later, the guard returned and jerked his head toward the door, "He will see you."
The inside of the garrison was dim and smelled of old leather and pipe smoke. A fire burned in a hearth at the far end, and behind a heavy wooden desk sat the commander.
He was older, maybe sixty. His hair was gray and thin, combed across a scarred scalp. One eye was missing, the socket empty and sunken, the skin around it puckered and white. His remaining eye was pale blue and sharp. It fixed on Eva first, then on Kira, and did not let go.
"You are Vance's people," he said. It was not a question.
Eva nodded. She reached into her coat and pulled out a small leather bag. It clinked and opened when she set it on the desk. It was filled with gold coins. Kira had never seen so many in one place.
The commander looked at the bag. He did not touch it.
"Vance already sent word," he said. "Said you would need a place, said you were not to be bothered."
"Then you know why we are here," Eva said.
The commander leaned back. His chair creaked. "I know that Vance saved my life once. I know that I owe him. I do not know you, and I do not want to know you." He reached out and pulled the bag of coins across the desk. It disappeared into a drawer. "There is a building on the east edge of town. Old ore assayer's office. Empty for a year, no one will bother you there."
He wrote the directions on a scrap of paper and pushed it across the desk.
Eva took the paper and turned to leave.
"One thing," the commander said.
Eva stopped.
The commander's one eye shifted to Kira. It stayed there for a long moment, then he looked back at Eva.
"Whatever you are doing here, keep it quiet. This town stays alive because no one asks questions. Start drawing bad attention and I will forget I owe Vance anything."
Eva said nothing. She walked out.
Kira followed, the commander's eye on her back the whole way.
The building was at the edge of town, just where the commander's directions said it would be.
Kira stood outside and stared at it.
It was not much to look at. Two stories, though the second floor looked like it had collapsed at some point and been propped up with wooden beams. The walls were gray stone streaked with black from years of smoke. The windows were small and dirty, most of them cracked. A wooden sign hung above the door, the paint so faded that Kira could not read what it had once said. The door was solid, the roof looked intact, and when Eva pushed the door open and stepped inside, the building did not fall down.
Kira took that as a good sign.
The main room was larger than she expected. Dust covered every surface and cobwebs hung from the ceiling like gray curtains. An old desk sat against one wall, shelves lined another wall, a hearth dominated the far end, black with soot, an iron pot still hanging from a hook inside.
Eva walked through the room, touching nothing, just looking. She ran her hand along the wall, tested the floorboards with her boot, peered up at the ceiling.
"It will do," she said.
Kira let out a breath she did not know she had been holding.
They explored the rest of the building together. A narrow staircase led to the second floor, but the stairs groaned under Eva's weight and the top landing was blocked by fallen beams. Not safe enough, they would stay on the ground floor.
A door off the main room opened into a back room. It was smaller but with a hearth of its own and two narrow windows that let in the afternoon light. Two old cots stood against opposite walls, their mattresses thin and stained but not rotting. A wooden table sat between them, scarred and wobbly.
"Sleeping quarters," Eva said. It was not much, but it was enough.
Another door led to a basement. Stone steps descended into darkness and Eva had to light a small flame to see. Kira followed her down.
The basement was cold and dry. The walls were rough stone and the floor was packed earth. It was empty, no furniture, no supplies, no signs that anyone had been down here in years. It was large. Large enough to move in, large enough to train in.
Eva stood in the center of the basement, her flame casting dancing shadows on the walls. She looked around slowly, her gold eyes taking in every detail.
"This is where we build," she said.
Kira did not know what she meant, not yet, but she filed the words away.
Kira expected to spend the rest of the day cleaning. Kira found rags and a bucket. She was about to scrub the floor when Eva casted a spell and high pressure water flushed everything out the front door..
By the time the sun set, the main room looked livable.
Eva built a fire in the hearth. The flames caught quickly, and warmth spread through the room. Kira sat on the floor near the fire, her back against the wall, and watched the flames dance.
Eva sat on the other side of the hearth. She was not looking at the fire. She was looking at the basement door.
"We will need supplies," Eva said. "Food, blankets, a lock for the front door."
Kira nodded, "Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow." Eva finally looked at her. Her face was unreadable, as always, but something in her posture had changed. Relaxed, maybe, or as relaxed as Eva ever got. "This is not a cave, Kira. It is not a hiding hole. It is a base."
Kira thought about that. A base meant staying. A base meant putting down roots, even shallow ones. A base meant she was not running anymore.
The thought scared her. The thought also felt like the first warm thing she had felt in days.
She looked around the room. The dusty shelves, the scarred desk, the fire crackling in the hearth. It was not home, it would never be home. Ember's Hollow was home, Ember's Hollow was gone, but it was somewhere to stand.
Kira pulled her knees to her chest and watched the fire. Her wall was still there, still holding. The warmth in her chest pulsed gently, matching the rhythm of the flames.
Eva stood and walked to the back room. "Sleep," she said. "Tomorrow we start."
Kira did not ask what they were starting. She already knew.
Everything.