Page 70 of The Threads Between

Mrs. Hartwick had said someone would be here.

"There should be a contact," Mira murmured behind me.

"Yes," Beatrice agreed. "Mrs. Hartwick would not have left that to chance."

I scanned the perimeter slowly, searching for motion. A broken crate near the far wall. A stack of barrels half-collapsed inward. Rope coiled loosely near the loading doors.

Then a figure—leaning casually against a set of wooden crates near the corner of the yard, half-obscured by fog. Hat low. Arms crossed. I could not yet tell whether the stillness was patience or warning.

"There," Lily said softly, relief threading through the word.

"Wait," I said immediately.

She stilled. Something was wrong. The posture was too still, locked in place rather than resting. One shoulder slightly higher than the other in a way that suggested weight, not ease.

I moved first, stepping ahead of the others. Garrick shifted instinctively, sitting Adeline down against a barrel, positioning himself to shield her and the others while still allowing line of sight.

The gravel crunched faintly under my boots as I approached.

Ten paces. Five. The fog thinned.

The man's head was angled downward, chin nearly touching his collarbone. His hat shadowed most of his face. His coat was dark and neatly buttoned.

No breath misted the early morning air before him.

I reached him and stopped.

The smell hit first. Gunpowder. His eyes were open and clouded.

There was a small, precise hole just beneath his left ear. Execution style. The back of his skull had struck the crate hard enough to leave a dark stain that had begun to seep into the wood. His arms were crossed not in patience, but because they had been placed that way. Someone had posed him deliberately.

Behind me, Lily's breath caught.

"He's—"

"Dead," I said quietly.

I examined the wound without touching more than necessary. Powder burns faint. Close range. Clean shot.

"They wanted him seen," I said.

"Why?" Lily asked, her voice thin but steady.

"To send a message." I straightened slowly. "But he knew where we would emerge. Which means someone else did as well."

The corruption stirred against my sternum, cold and sharp, reminding me it was still there. Still waiting. I pushed back instinctively, but it had grown bolder since the restoration. Testing my edges. Looking for weakness.

Not now. Hold.

The fog shifted faintly, and every muscle in my body tightened. I stood fully, scanning the rooflines again. The windows. The edges of the yard.

"Do not cluster," I said evenly. "Spread slightly. Watch the rooflines."

Mira's hands glowed faintly at her sides. Garrick adjusted his footing, shifting to block Adeline and Marigold. Lily remained close beside me.

The fog lifted in quiet ribbons from the cobbled yard as the sun peeked over the river's edge. For a suspended second, nothing moved.

Then a figure stepped from the shadow along the right-hand wall.