Mist parted in thin veils ahead, revealing the silhouette more clearly. A tall person, hooded, cloak hanging damp and heavy. They stood utterly still on the black stone, as though rooted there. Around their feet, the glowing water eddied but did not rise.
Lyra's threads twitched between her fingers. "They're real."
Aric narrowed his eyes. 'Not a mirage. The Domain doesn't make shadows cast light.'He said softly, "Anchor your Name anyway."
"Always do."
They advanced slowly, stone by stone. The figure did not move until they were five stones away. Then, with a smooth motion, they lowered their hood.
A woman's face emerged: high cheekbones, sharp eyes like molten gold. Her hair was dark and braided tight, streaked with faint blue. A slender mask of bone covered her nose and mouth, etched with spirals similar to the platform's carvings. She raised one gloved hand again, palm outward.
Lyra hissed under her breath. "She's wearing a masker's mark."
"I see it."
"Those people eat memories."
"That's an exaggeration," Aric murmured. "They mostly trade them."
The woman's voice carried across the gap, low but clear. "Travellers. You hold a fragment that is not yours. The Landlord's debt runs with it."
Aric's fingers tightened on the cage. "And you are?"
"A toll-keeper. One who watches the Domain's paths." She tilted her head. "This one calls me Sere."
Lyra muttered, "Great. A tax collector for the toll collector."
Aric ignored her and called back, "We're passing through."
"No one 'passes through' the Eighth Domain," Sere said. "You cross or you sink. And crossing requires payment."
Aric felt the Mirror throb against his ribs. "We paid the Collector."
Her eyes glimmered. "That was the lesser toll."
Lyra whispered to Aric, "I'm not giving her anything."
"Relax," he murmured back. "She's more interested in the fragment."
Sere's gaze flicked to Lyra's threads, then back to Aric. "The Landlord will take you for thieves if you leave with its lost property."
Aric stepped to the edge of his stone. "The Landlord lost it. We found it. That's salvage."
A small chuckle drifted from Sere. "Salvage doesn't exist here. Only bargains."
Lyra shifted her weight, threads curling tighter. "Then make one. We're tired, and this place stinks."
Sere tilted her head, studying them. "What do you offer for safe crossing?"
Aric thought, 'She wants the fragment, but showing that would be a mistake. We need leverage.'
He said aloud, "A Path you haven't walked. A memory of a gate outside the Domain."
That got her attention. Her golden eyes brightened faintly. "Show me."
"After we're on the far arch."
She laughed, the sound sharp as glass. "Clever. But your cage is heavier than you think."
The fragment-child stirred inside, filaments curling outward. It whispered, a sound like wind through reeds: "Sere. Sere. Don't let them—"
Lyra flinched. "It knows her?"
Sere's eyes softened, just a fraction. "It remembers me."
Aric's pulse quickened. 'They're linked. That's the opening.'
He straightened. "Then you can help us get it out."
Sere's gaze hardened again. "Helping you is not my Path."
"Then we'll find our own."
He stepped to the next stone. Lyra followed, threads ready. Sere raised her hand sharply. "Another step and the Domain itself will shift. You'll fall into water you can't name."
Aric met her eyes. "Then bargain, or move."
For a long moment they stared across the glow, mist swirling between them. Finally Sere lowered her hand. "You're reckless."
"Cunning," he corrected. "You'd know the difference."
Another small chuckle. "Perhaps. Meet me at the Arch of Threads ahead. There, I will hear your offer."
Without another word she turned and walked away, her cloak trailing faint blue mist. The stones didn't sink under her feet. They seemed to rise to meet her.
Lyra exhaled. "She's terrifying."
"She's interested," Aric said. "That's something."
"Why is everyone in this Domain either a monster or a cryptic woman?"
He allowed himself a faint smile. "Keeps life interesting."
Lyra rolled her eyes but grinned despite herself. "I'm holding you to that memory bargain."
"You think I'd really give her a gate?"
"You'd give her anything if it got you through."
"Not anything." He tapped the cage. "Not this."
They jumped to the next stone. The mist ahead parted just enough to show the arch—a tall black structure woven from hundreds of thin strands, like hair frozen in mid-motion. Blue light pulsed within it.
Lyra shivered. "That's the Arch of Threads?"
"That's what she called it."
"It looks like it's… alive."
"It probably is."
They moved closer. Each stone seemed to hum under their boots now, resonating with the arch ahead. The fragment-child's filaments stretched toward it, glowing brighter, like a plant leaning toward sunlight.
Aric thought, 'It wants to go there. Maybe that's the Landlord's leash.'
Lyra touched his arm. "Vale…what if we're walking into a trap?"
"We are," he said. "The trick is to spring it on our terms."
"Sometimes I hate how calm you sound."
He glanced at her. "Would you rather I scream?"
She snorted. "Maybe. At least then I'd know you're human."
"Then don't listen too close."
They reached the last three stones before the arch. The mist swirled thicker again, but now it smelled different—ozone and burnt sugar. Threads of blue light drifted upward like sparks from a fire.
Lyra looked up at the arch, eyes wide. "It's…beautiful."
Aric nodded slowly. "And dangerous."
At the centre of the arch, Sere waited, cloak spread like wings, golden eyes fixed on them.
Aric tightened his grip on the cage. 'One more bargain.'
He said quietly to Lyra, "Stay sharp. We're in her house now."
Lyra's threads flicked once, twice. "Always."
They stepped onto the final stone.