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Larkin did not mind.

He slowed.

Something was wrong. The air had changed. The wards trembled beneath his feet. Not failing. Unsteady.

Then he saw her. She lay half in the mouth of Morrath, blood pooling beneath her, one hand still stretched toward the outside world.

His face went white.

“Princess Ivanoxa?”

He took a hesitant step forward.

"I came for instructions."

No answer.

Another step.

"I come every day.”

The ground beneath him shuddered. A figure rose silently from the darkness beyond the ward.

Flagsar.

All three heads watched Larkin.

"The Vaultline has been breached," Flagsar said quietly.

The mountain trembled again.

"Morrath is becoming unstable."

Larkin opened his mouth.

Flagsar raised one finger to his lips.

Behind them, a figure with teal hair was crumpled on the ground.

It stirred.

Teal hair. Larkin frowned, then recognition crossed his face. The princess had warned him about her once. Larkin never forgot a face.

Dali Vaelor.

Flagsar stepped over the threshold as though the ward were little more than mist. He lifted Nox into his arms with surprising care, carrying her back through the mouth of Morrath.

Larkin's eyes dropped. Something glinted beside Dali's hand.

He crouched. A vial of stolen essence.

He looked up.

Flagsar watched him. One of his heads gave the smallest nod.

Larkin slipped the vial inside his coat.

The wind changed. A great shadow swept over them.