The world held its breath.
The rain over Natra Phan fell in thick, silver sheets, turning the ancient floating market’s gangplanks into slippery tongues. For ten years, the floating city had been a sanctuary for outcasts, dreamers, and the mechanically inclined. But tonight, it was a trap. Natra Phan 2
Everyone turned. A slender figure in oil-stained silk robes stepped out from behind a hanging lantern. Lin. The ghost-girl of the lower bilges. She was pale, almost translucent in the storm light, her fingers permanently stained black with grease. The crew called her a ghost because she never spoke above a whisper and could slip through a keyhole. Kaelen called her the only friend he had left. The world held its breath
“Fine,” she whispered. “But if you’re wrong, I’ll throw you to the leeches myself. And I’ll keep the Heart.” But tonight, it was a trap
Kaelen looked at the pedestal. Then at the tiny, warm sphere in his hands. He knew. Once the Heart was seated, it would fuse. It would become the Core again. No one would ever be able to steal it.