“You did what?!”

Zalina and I were sprinting through the streets of Tanden, ducking under hanging signs and weaving between carts while the guards thundered after us. I clipped a fruit stand and nearly went down in a pile of bruised oranges, but managed to stay upright.

Zalina moved like smoke beside me, flickering in and out of sight—her ability doing its thing. She was there, then not, then there again, always just ahead of the guards’ eyes.

“By the stars, Zeek, one day you’re gonna get us both killed!” she hissed.

“Not today,” I shot back. “Maybe Thursday.”

She grabbed my arm and yanked me down a barely-there alley I hadn’t even noticed. Before I could say anything, she gripped my hand, and a cold ripple passed through me. I looked down—translucent. Her Flicker was covering me now, too.

We pressed against the wall as the guards stormed past. They didn’t look twice. The only sound was their footsteps fading into the distance, and the hammering of my heartbeat trying to punch its way out of my chest.

For a second, I let myself pretend this was just a dumb adventure. Two friends hiding in a quiet alley. Not fugitives. Not Specials. Just teenagers doing something stupid, like skipping school or sneaking into a concert. Something normal.

Then Zalina shoved me to the ground.

I hit the cobblestones hard, and by the time I looked up, she had a knife in her hand. The same one she kept tucked in her boot. She wasn’t pointing it at me—not yet—but the look in her eyes said she might.

“Tell me exactly what you did.”

I rubbed the back of my head. Tried to sit up. One glance at her expression told me I’d be better off staying put.

“I, uh… I might’ve tried to steal something. From the palace.”

Her jaw tightened. The alley was quiet now—too quiet. I could hear the city starting to wind down for the night: shop shutters closing, the distant clink of tavern glasses, water dripping somewhere behind us. All of it pressing in around the silence between us.

Zalina flickered again, and not in a controlled way. She was angry. That always messed with her focus.

“What did you try to steal, Zeek?”

I ran a hand through my hair, buying time. “It’s really not that important.”

She gave a short, dry laugh. “It’s not nothing if you broke into the Royal Palace for it.”

I exhaled slowly. “It was a map. The Leviathan Route.”

That stopped everything. Zalina blinked. She didn’t flicker, didn’t move, didn’t even breathe for a second. Just stared at me like I’d grown another head.

“You’re serious.”

“Yeah.”

She took a step back like she needed space to even think near me. “You mean the Leviathan Route? The one kept behind a bloodseal? In the King’s vault?”

“That’s the one.”

“You realize that map is the reason the kingdom controls the eastern sea, right?” she snapped. “That every ship that crosses the trench, every trade deal, every military route—all of it depends on that one piece of parchment?”

“I figured that’s why it was locked up,” I said.

She ignored me. “That map is worth more than gold. It’s control. It’s leverage. It’s war in the wrong hands.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, that was kind of the point.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t joke right now.”

I wasn’t. Not really.

“I wasn’t gonna keep it,” I said. “I was gonna give it to the Resistance.”

Zalina turned away, like looking at me was dangerous. Or maybe just exhausting. “You set off a bloodseal, Zeek. That’s not just an alarm. That’s a binding mark. Magical. Personal. They’ll track you. There’s probably a royal diviner reading your footsteps right now.”

“I didn’t even get that close,” I muttered.

“Doesn’t matter,” she snapped. “You entered the vault. That’s close enough.”

She was pacing now, hands on her hips, like she was trying to keep herself from hitting something. Or someone. I stayed quiet. Didn’t seem like the moment for clever remarks.

“I had a brother,” she said suddenly, stopping mid-step. “Tried to take something from the palace once. Thought he could outsmart the system.”

I looked up. “You never told me that.”

“No,” she said. “I didn’t.”

Her voice was different now—flatter. Worn down. She didn’t say what happened to him, but she didn’t have to.

The alley stretched quiet again, the weight of the moment finally catching up to both of us. I wasn’t sure if she was going to yell, run, or leave me behind entirely.

Instead, she just sank down against the wall, sliding until she was sitting on the cold stone.

I followed, slower.

We leaned up against the wall, and I had no idea what was coming next.