They were quiet as the Cloudwhale drifted out of view.
The Cloudreaper cut through the mist like a whisper, leaving the chaos of the pirate market behind. No more shouting. No more firecrackers exploding. Just the soft hum of the engine and the distant howl of the wind.
Kairo stood by the railing, still catching his breath.
He had run for his life more times in the last few weeks than in the rest of his entire existence. And yet, somehow, it wasn't the explosions or masked Assembly spies that had him rattled right now.
It was the words the man in the mask had said to him, back in that market.
"Give it to me… or the Assembly will take it from your corpse."
He hadn't even hesitated. He knew Kairo had the Atlas.
And he wasn't surprised.
He was expecting him.
Later that night, Kairo couldn't sleep.
The stars were out—soft and scattered above, like someone had spilled salt across a black table. The ship rocked gently in the wind. Cinder was asleep in the engine room. Velka was on the top deck, listening to the sky like she always did.
Kairo sat alone, thinking.
Then he heard a noise. Faint. Metal tapping against wood. A soft clink… clink… clink.
He stood quietly and followed the sound.
It was coming from the lower hold.
He moved carefully, one step at a time, down the narrow stairs. The tapping grew louder. It wasn't a rhythm. It wasn't music. It sounded… nervous. Like someone working too fast. Like someone hiding something.
When he reached the bottom, he froze.
Someone was standing near the storage crates.
It was Velka.
She was bent over a strange circular table he'd never seen before. On it was a folded scroll and a small orb glowing with soft blue light. She was whispering something to it.
Then, as if sensing him, she stopped.
Slowly, she turned.
Kairo stepped forward. "What are you doing?"
Velka didn't answer right away. She straightened up, calm but unreadable. Her blindfold still covered her eyes, but somehow he felt like she was watching him.
"It's not what it looks like," she said.
"Looks like you're talking to something," he replied. "Or someone."
She was silent.
Kairo's voice dropped. "You've been sending messages, haven't you?"
Velka let out a soft sigh.
"Yes," she said. "But not to the Assembly."
"Then to who?"
"To someone who's been hunting the Atlas longer than you have."
Kairo stepped closer. "Velka… are you helping us? Or leading us into a trap?"
Now she looked straight at him. "I'm doing both."
Silence.
Just the creaking of the ship. The wind brushing against the hull.
Kairo stared at her. "What does that mean?"
"I'm guiding you to the First Horizon," she said slowly. "But I'm not the only one watching you. The sky is full of eyes. Some want to stop you. Others want you to get there—just so they can take it from you."
Kairo shook his head. "You could've told me."
"If I had," Velka said, "would you have let me come?"
He didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
Up on deck, Cinder yawned and stretched, walking out to get some fresh air.
Then he saw Kairo standing by the railing again.
"You good?" he asked.
Kairo nodded slowly, watching the stars shift overhead.
"No. But I will be."
He reached into his coat, pulled out the two Atlas pieces, and held them up together. The edges were glowing now. They'd begun to form a line.
A path.
Straight through the sky.
And wherever it led—friend or foe—he was going to follow it.
END OF CHAPTER 8