Movement.
My head snaps toward the treeline. Someone slipping away—a figure in Council robes, moving fast and quiet through the shadows.
“Bree.”
She follows my gaze. Sees.
But Zira is faster.
She materializes out of nowhere—blood still on her hands, eyes still glowing—and steps directly into the runner’s path.
“Going somewhere?”
The figure freezes.
I recognize her now. Eris. The Seer-councilor. Eyes blank and silver, face carefully neutral.
Bree walks toward her. Steady. Unhurried.
The rest of us follow.
Eris doesn’t run. She can’t—Zira’s blocking the only exit, and we’re closing in from the other side.
Bree stops three feet away.
“Hello, Eris.”
The councilor’s expression doesn’t change. “Source.”
“You knew.” It’s not a question.
Eris tilts her head. “I see many things. Not all of them are clear until they happen.”
“You saw this?”
A pause. “I saw… possibilities.”
“And you did nothing.”
Another pause. Longer this time.
“I did what I could.”
Bree stares at her. The silence stretches.
Then she steps aside.
Eris blinks. For the first time, something like confusion flickers across her face.
“Go.”
“You’re… releasing me?”
“I’m letting you run back to whatever’s left of your Council.” Bree’s voice is steady. Cold. “Though it might just be you.”
She takes a step closer. Eris flinches.
“I’m not sure we need a Council anymore. Not the way it was. Not with the people who let this happen.” Bree tilts her head. “It’s time to rebuild something better.”
