“Not weapons,” Bater added. “Most days it’s things like that. Tools. Hinges. Locks. Anything the city needs.”
His grin returned, crooked and amused.
“Turns out darkness is quite practical when you learn how to shape it.”
We passed through an open marketplace where Veythar bartered with one another. I reached for the small leather pouch at my waist, a habit born of years in Isvale markets, before I remembered I had nothing but the clothes on my back. Bater caught the motion, a dry smile touching his lips.
“We do not believe in currency,” he explained. “We believe in energy. Exchanges are made through the strength of one’s energy and intent.”
My brows lifted slightly at that, and it was then that I noticed they were exchanging stones, not copper.
The markets of Isvale ran on coin and little else. If you did not have enough of it, you went hungry.
Bater continued down the corridor, and I followed until the passage opened before a vast wall of polished obsidian.
At first I thought it was simply another slab of decorative stone. Then the surface flickered.
Lines of pale light began to glow beneath the glassy black surface, spreading outward in branching patterns that mapped the city’s tiers in delicate veins of luminescence. The shapes pulsed slowly, marking districts, watchpoints, and the defensive rings that wrapped the cavern like the threads of a vast web.
A living map of Umbral. Its light pulsed faintly against my skin, close enough that I could feel the warmth of it when I stepped nearer.
“It is immense, Bater,” I murmured, watching the faint trails of violet moss that marked the main paths. “I know Talon rules here, but… how does it actually work? Who answers to whom?”
Bater nodded, his usual easy grin fading as he stepped closer to the obsidian wall. He lifted a finger and touched the glowing lines near the city’s highest tier.
“It’s simpler than it looks,” he said. “At the top, there’s you and the Master. The Sayel bond makes the two of you the heart of everything—military command, spiritual authority, all of it.”
His finger moved lower across the map.
“Below that sits the Council of Elders. Old Veythar. Older than most of these tunnels. They keep our history… and make sure we do not repeat the mistakes that nearly wiped out our species.”
Another point of light flared as he tapped a different section.
“Eladaria leads the rest. She’s our First Sage. The healers answer to her. The runekeepers. Anyone responsible for the inner workings of the city.”
I tilted my head, following the branching lines across the map.
“So she runs the civilization,” I said slowly, “while Talon handles everything outside the mountain.”
Bater’s mouth curved again. “Exactly.”
He then placed his hand over his chest in a half-formal gesture.
“And the Guard answers to the Master. Talon named me Warden of the Shadow.” A flicker of pride crossed his face. “Which means I oversee the city’s defenses and the tactical deployments.”
Before I could ask another question, Bater glanced upward. “We need to move. It is almost time for the Gauntlet.”
He turned from the map and continued down a narrow corridor carved deep into the stone. I followed beside him, the air growing cooler with every step. Moisture clung to the walls, leaving the rock slick beneath the faint glow of the cavern light. There was a strange energy in this part of the city, a quiet hum that prickled faintly along my arms.
Up ahead, the corridor widened into a small chamber.
Bater’s stride quickened the moment it came into view.
I slowed.
“Bater,” I said.
He did not answer, though I saw the tension settle across his shoulders as he continued forward. When I reached the opening of the chamber, I stopped completely.