Chapter 81. The Ash Before Flame

They arrived without warning.

No horn, no runner, no dream pulse sent ahead. Just the sound of hooves crunching ice, followed by the slow hiss of enchantments collapsing around the southern gate. At first, the sentries thought it was a storm. Then they saw the flags—grey on black, ringed with the broken crescent.

Hollow Reach had come.

The gate was opened, not by choice, but because the glyphs refused to hold. The air around them trembled, and the iron hinges groaned not from age, but resistance.

Eight riders entered the compound. All of them cloaked, their faces hidden, the sigils on their sleeves stitched with thread that shimmered between ink and shadow. None of them dismounted.

At the front rode a woman with silver hair braided down her spine. Her face was bare, her gaze sharp enough to split bark. On her shoulder sat a blackbird—silent, unmoving, too still to be alive.

Cassandra met them in the center courtyard, flanked by Kade and two scouts