Mo Lianyin awoke to the sleepy croak of marsh–crickets and the steady lift-and-fall of Soren's breathing beside her. Dawn hadn't reached the Gloaming Marches; instead a pale aurora hovered over the mist, painting root-walls in bruised lavender.
She sat up carefully. The obsidian petal shards from last night's desperate bloom still littered the ground, but the lotus-anchor in her chest thrummed cool and even. Kareth's presence lingered at the edge of thought watchful, curious, unintrusive for once.
You survived the burn, he remarked. Asha tasted your potential; next time she'll bring heavier chains.
"Then we stay unpredictable," Lianyin whispered.
Soren stirred, frost-white strands falling across his eyes. "Unpredictable sounds exhausting," he mumbled.
"Better than dead."
Thorne uncurled with a cavernous yawn, violet eyes flashing. The cub padded to the water's edge, nose twitching. Ripples glimmered no danger, just marsh-sprites skimming for dawn pollen.
Soren rose, brushing moss from his cloak. "Elder Meihua marked three possible safe houses on the compass." He unrolled the bone talisman; etched lines glowed faintly north-east. "Closest is a floating bazaar run by her handwriting looks like Stargleam Consortium?"
Kareth hummed. Ah, the Traders of Stolen Stars. Pickpockets of the heavens. They harvest fallen meteorite shards and barter wishes sealed in crystal.
"Could they hide us?" Lianyin asked.
For a price, Kareth warned. And they adore rare curiosities like a living demon vessel.
Soren flexed newly freed wrists. "We'll bargain carefully. If they trade in stars, maybe they know more about the Red Moon."
A Market Carved from Moonlight
By mid-morning they reached a broad lagoon where mangroves parted to reveal an unlikely sight: twenty enormous lotus-pads, each wide as a temple floor, netted together by silver chains. Stalls of silk awnings crowded the pads; glowing orbs bobbed overhead, tethered to nothing. Ships hewn from meteoric iron floated in loops, never touching water but drifting like lazy swans.
A gilded archway labeled "STARGLEAM CONSORTIUM — Wares of Heaven & Secrets of Earth" spanned the entrance causeway. A fee-collector sat cross-legged atop an obsidian plinth, counting beads that shone like galaxies.
"Entry price," the young woman said, without glancing up, "one verifiable secret each."
Soren met Lianyin's gaze. We can't surrender anything dangerous, his eyes warned.
Lianyin considered, then leaned toward the collector. "I know that Elder Meihua of Whisper-Harbor destroyed her workshop last night to stall the Dawnlight Sect's hunt."
The bead-counter's hands paused. She tapped a rune; beads froze, absorbed the whispered fact, and resumed spinning. "Verified. Welcome."
Soren inhaled. "Sky-Pier's holy gearwork has a flaw salt air corrodes the counter-weights beneath the docking chains. One strong storm and the cliff will shear."
The beads swallowed that, too. The collector gestured lazily. "Admittance granted." She eyed Thorne. "Your beast?"
"Speaks no secrets," Lianyin said.
"Then his is still safe."
They stepped onto the first pad springy underfoot yet firm. Merchants hawked fragmented star-steel, bottled comet-dust, and candles that dripped tiny constellations instead of wax. One stall offered Dream-Fossils: glassy stones inside which miniature scenes replayed lost memories. Another displayed daggers forged from void-iron, edges devouring torchlight.
Thorne sniffed everything; stall-keepers retreated from violet glare. Lianyin kept her hood low, but her crimson eyes still drew whispers.
A hunched figure wreathed in silver-thread robes beckoned them beneath a canopy. "Seeking sanctuary, shadow-daughter?"
Soren angled his body half-protectively. "Possibly. And information on the Red Moon prophecy."
The robed merchant pushed back a jeweled mask, revealing skin the hue of midnight oil and eyes flecked with meteor sparks. "Call me Sil-Ra. I may satisfy both quests, for the right exchange."
"What do you ask?"
"Three items." Sil-Ra raised spindly fingers, ticking each point. "First: the cub's violet eye-sheen bottleable with no harm done. Second: a shadow tether from the Demon King's vessel, bound willingly. Third: a single tear from the prince formed of frost."
Soren frowned. "Why those?"
"To craft Star-Wells trinkets that clarify truth during eclipses." Sil-Ra's smile shimmered like moonlight diffraction. "Eye of the beast sees hidden paths. Shadow-tether anchors possibility. Frost-tear cools ambition."
Kareth chuckled. Poetic nonsense, but harmless.
Lianyin knelt to Thorne. "Will it hurt?"
The cub blinked slowly. A calm pulse of acceptance brushed her mind; Thorne seemed oddly amused. She nodded. "We agree if your knowledge proves genuine."
"Test before you pay." Sil-Ra produced a crystal disk etched with star-maps. He whispered; lines glowed, rearranging into a single sigil same inverted lotus burned on Lianyin's spirit.
"This mark is echoing across the night sky," Sil-Ra said. "Every Red Moon cycle, its petals unfold further, converging on one star Iridus Minor. When the petals meet, your Demon King's essence completes. Ritualists call that night the Crimson Bloom."
Soren's knuckles whitened on his sword hilt. "How long?"
"By orbital drift?" Sil-Ra tapped the map. "Four months. On that night, every sanctified sect plans to unleash the Sanctum Prism in concert. Without warding, the vessel" he nodded to Lianyin "will be torn apart and the soul within refined like ore."
Lianyin swallowed. Four months. Meihua predicted a year for takeover, but the world meant to cut the clock.
Sil-Ra continued, "Yet Iridus Minor's trajectory intersects a ruined sky-temple: the Observatory of Haelus. Its anti-stellar wards can mask your lotus signature. If petals hide, Prism fails."
"Where?" Lianyin asked.
"Beyond the marsh, past Ash-Spine Ridge. Map coordinates gifted once I receive payment."
She turned to Soren. He drew a tiny shard of ice from his palm, compressing pain of swollen burn nerves into it one tear crystallized. Lianyin opened her left hand, forming a ribbon of willingly offered shadow. Thorne, unprompted, stalked to Sil-Ra, blinked, and a sliver of violet luminescence split from his gaze into a silver vial.
Sil-Ra corked each prize reverently, then placed a rolled parchment in Lianyin's hand. "Map of the ridge paths, plus sigil-keys for Haelus gates. Travel swiftly: Asha Kellen scours these pads by nightfall."
"How do you know that?" Soren asked.
Sil-Ra's smile widened. "We trade in secrets, winter prince."
A Knife of Light among Stars
They retreated to a quieter platform to study the map. Lianyin traced the route: marsh-channel → salt-flat causeway → hidden ascent through basalt chimneys into the ridge. "Two days if we cut corners."
Thorne suddenly growled low. Across the bazaar, lanterns dimmed as a radiant figure stepped onto the gate-pad Asha.
Word traveled faster than boats. Traders bowed or scurried out of sight. Asha's halo bathed banners in soft gold. Her gaze swept, predator-calm, pausing when it brushed Lianyin's hood across the lagoon. She stiffened; Seraphine's sheath rang as metal tasted air.
"Move." Lianyin rolled the map into Soren's pouch. "We ghost out."
Kareth snickered. Your friend never learned nuance.
They ducked behind a stall. But a merchant blocked the rear exit, palms upraised. "Sanctuary extends to all who pay entry," he whispered. "No violence under star-bond."
Lianyin peeked Asha remained on the entry pad, barred by the bead-collector's plinth. Words floated across the lagoon: "Entry fee, Disciple?"
Asha's voice carried. "I seek a demon, not baubles."
"Price is a secret," the collector replied serenely.
Asha hesitated. Her faith forbade trading knowledge for gain. Finally she unclipped something from her belt a folded scrap of parchment sealed with Dawnlight wax. "Grandmaster Solas's private prophecy," she said quietly. "Keep it locked until I retrieve it."
The beads consumed the sealed secret. The collector bowed. "Entry granted."
Lianyin cursed under breath. "Time to vanish now."
They hurried along pad chains toward outermost lotus where star-barges moored. Invisible corridors opened as sympathetic vendors yanked curtains, offering a hidden path in silent revolt against Dawnlight tyranny.
Soren vaulted a railing onto a smaller meteor-skiff. The keel thrummed when his frost-qi touched the helm crystal. "Ready!"
Lianyin tossed Thorne aboard, leapt after. A vendor cut the mooring rope with a ceremonial sickle—skiff drifted free soundlessly, powered by starlight residual in its ore.
Behind them, Seraphine flashed Asha had spotted movement. She sprinted, vaulting railings with paladin grace. Lianyin faced aft, shadow coil ready to stall pursuit but Kareth whispered, No weapons within star-bond or traders will turn.
Instead, Lianyin grabbed a pouch of comet-dust hanging at the skiff's mast, yanked it open, and flung the shimmering powder over the water behind them. Light fractured into thousands of mirror-shards, reflecting bazaar lamps into dizzying kaleidoscope. Asha stumbled; perspective warped, every lotus-pad seeming three places at once.
Soren steered into fog beyond the market, velocity building as ore veins drank sky radiation. Moments later, bazaar lights vanished behind heavy mist.
Lianyin exhaled, body shaking from adrenaline. She allowed herself a scant heartbeat of victory then unrolled the sealed Dawnlight parchment stolen by Asha's secret fee. Wax cracked; words glowed with holy ink.
The Demon King's Descendant will break the Thirty-Third Seal. On that breaking, Dawnlight's Founder returns in flame. Vessel must be delivered alive to White-Flame Monastery before the Crimson Bloom. Failure ensures sect annihilation.
Soren read over her shoulder. "Thirty-third seal?"
Kareth's voice frothed with old fury. That seal shackled half my empire's souls. If broken, both demons and gods wake.
Lianyin folded the scroll, thoughts racing. "They need me alive until their ritual but they fear the seal's shattering more."
Thorne nudged her hand. She stroked the cub's fur, eyes on the horizon. "Then we reach Haelus Observatory, hide our star, and figure how to break a thirty-third chain before they chain me."
Soren tightened his grip on the helm. "Two days to the ridge. We'll make it."
The skiff rode a river of upper-air, fog curling like celestial spines beneath. Ahead, dawn's first real sunlight split clouds with gold. Behind, a paladin of halos stood among star-merchants, sword at her side, secretless but not hopeless.
A crimson moon waited. But so did a hidden temple among fallen stars and a girl whose lotus would not wilt.