The city was waking, but it was not whole. Broken streets hissed with damp air, and the smell of burned wood clung to every corner. Smoke drifted from shattered chimneys, and faint fires burned in alleys like wounded eyes. I moved through the streets as quietly as I could, Sarah at my side, Sophia close enough to hum faint wards that clung to us like a protective second skin. Mona had vanished to the high ground, her eyes already scanning for threats we could not see.
The Black River rippled in the morning light. At first glance, it looked ordinary, reflecting the pale sky and passing gulls. But I could feel the subtle twitch beneath its surface—the same restless pulse I'd noticed from the hill. It was deliberate, almost sentient. The memory of last night made my stomach tighten: the water had carried rage, hunger, and the remnants of Veyra's control. Now, it was quieter, but it was watching.
"Look at the current," I muttered, crouching at the riverbank.
