The road out of Glintspire stretched north like a scar across the land, wide enough for caravans that no longer came this way. Vesna walked it with the easy, rolling gait of someone who had spent half her life on trails just like this one. Her boots kicked up small puffs of dust. The sun was warm on her shoulders, but the weight in her chest made every step feel heavier than it should.
Zzyzx stayed mostly retracted against Vesna's skin, a warm, living weight that shifted occasionally as if listening to the rhythm of her heartbeat. Leshwai rode on her shoulder, tiny antlers glowing faintly in the daylight, his mossy fluff brushing her cheek every time he turned to look back at the city shrinking behind them.
They had left the main gate an hour ago. The floating markets and sky-bridges were distant glittering specks now. The land opened up into rolling hills dotted with scrub brush and the occasional ruined watchtower. It felt like the world was holding its breath.
Vesna's hand kept drifting to the folded parchment tucked inside her cloak — the guild job with her family crest stamped at the bottom. She hadn't spoken much since they left the city. The others hadn't pushed.
Zzyzx's voice finally came, soft inside her head.
You're thinking again, I can smell your mind cooking. More Family stuff?
Vesna didn't answer right away. She just gave the tiniest nod.
The road curved gently upward. They were climbing toward the first line of hills that hid the labyrinth ruins. The air smelled of dry grass and distant rain. Vesna's voice came out in fragments, the way old caravan stories always did — not a speech, just pieces shaken loose by the rhythm of walking.
"The sound of wheels at dawn," she said quietly. "That was the first thing I remember. Wheels turning on a dusty road. My father calling out route numbers like they were prayers. My mother laughing at something stupid he said. I used to ride in the lead wagon with them. Thought the whole world was just one long road and we owned it."
Zzyzx listened without teasing. For once there was no playful jab, no sultry comment. Just quiet attention, the kind that came from someone who had spent her entire existence drifting alone through the stars before crashing into this one.
Vesna kept going, eyes on the road ahead.
"The attack came at night. Goblins. They hit the rear wagons first. I remember the screaming. Then the griffin — big bastard, swooped down out of nowhere. Grabbed me right off the ground. I thought I was dead. Next thing I knew I was dropped miles away in the middle of nowhere. Alone."
She swallowed hard.
"The worst part wasn't the violence. It was never knowing. Did they die? Did they keep going without me? Did they think I was dead and just… kept living?"
Leshwai made a soft, sad chirp and nuzzled her neck. Vesna reached up and scratched behind his ears automatically.
"I found him a few weeks later," she said, nodding at the little gremlin. "He was half-starved, tangled in some vines. Everyone in the villages said he was bad luck. A cursed omen. I didn't care. I couldn't leave him. Guess I needed someone to stay with as much as he did."
Zzyzx's voice was gentle inside her head.
You didn't abandon him. Even when the world told you to.
Vesna gave a small, tired smile. "Yeah. Guess that's the one thing I got right."
They walked in silence for a while. The hills grew steeper. The ruins of the Glassroot Labyrinth began to appear on the horizon — broken stone arches half-buried in earth, old trade markers weathered almost to nothing.
At the edge of the ruins they found the first sign that someone had already passed through.
A dead scavenger lay crumpled against a fallen pillar. The wound on his chest was too clean. Too precise. Not the ragged tear of claws or teeth. Metal scoring marked the stone around him — straight, surgical lines that didn't match any monster they knew.
One section of the corridor ahead smelled faintly of ozone and heat-scorched circuitry.
Zzyzx's tendrils tightened slightly against Vesna's skin.
That smell, she whispered. It's the same as the thing that came through the square.
Vesna's hand went to her father's dagger.
Whatever was hunting them had already been here.
And it was moving ahead of them.