The wind howled through the cracks in the boards. In the long silence that followed the argument, the creaks of shifting wood and the distant lap of sea air became the only sounds in the room.
Cale lay awake, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his mind spinning. The spiral on his wrist had cooled, but something inside him hadn't. His outburst had been reckless. Worse, it had been loud.
He sighed, rubbing the heel of his hand over his face.
"Can't sleep either?" came Regan's voice, low from across the room.
Cale turned his head. Regan sat upright on his bed, elbows on his knees, looking straight at him.
"No," Cale muttered. "Too much noise in my head."
Regan stood and walked over quietly. He sat beside Cale, his voice just above a whisper. "You're lucky. If Rosanna hadn't stepped in, I think you'd have tackled the poor boy through the floorboards."
Cale didn't respond right away. "You know her?"
"I thought I did," Regan said. "She's from the previous group they put me in. We talked sometimes. When you squeeze out a few conversations from her, she can be quite friendly. I didn't expect to see her here. And I'm pretty sure she didn't expect to see me either."
Cale frowned. "You two close?"
"Not really," Regan said. "But she's… solid. The kind of person who makes others feel safer just by standing next to them. Not many like that." He looked at Cale. "Which is exactly why we need her."
Cale raised an eyebrow. "You're still planning the escape?"
Regan gave him a look. "Were you thinking of staying?"
Cale shook his head. "No. I just didn't think we'd… include anyone else."
Regan glanced across the room where Rosanna sat, her back against the wall, head tilted as if dozing. But he knew better.
"I think we should," Regan said. "She's strong. Brave. And… I know this might sound insane, but I think she was already planning something. On her own."
Cale looked skeptical.
Regan leaned in. "I've seen the way she watches the guards. The way she counts heads at mealtime. She's been preparing—she just didn't have any backup."
Cale followed his gaze. Rosanna's arms were crossed, but one eye was open, flickering toward them now and then.
"Alright," Cale murmured. "Let's talk about plans. Real ones."
_________________
They moved closer together in the dim light. Regan pulled a small, hand-drawn map from the inside of his shirt — a wrinkled scrap he'd been working on for days.
"I've marked the main guards' posts," he whispered, pointing to dark Xs. "Shift changes happen every four hours. We'll need to move during the handover — just when one group leaves and the next isn't settled yet."
"And the fence?" Cale asked.
"North perimeter's weak. Near the slope where the fog pools at dawn. One of the boards is warped and can be lifted without tools."
Cale nodded slowly, absorbing every word.
Then Regan said, "But we can't do this with just the two of us. We'll need eyes, strength, and… someone to punch if things go loud."
He didn't need to say who he meant.
Rosanna's voice came from the dark. "If you're going to keep whispering like that, at least have the courtesy to invite me in."
Both boys froze.
Rosanna stood and walked over, arms still crossed. She looked between them and then dropped into a crouch beside the bed.
"I knew you two were up to something," she said, her tone cool but not unkind. "And you're lucky I don't snore. Or you'd be trying to sneak past me right now."
Cale glanced at Regan. Regan shrugged. "Well, here we are."
Rosanna looked over the map. "I know this post. The north slope. I've watched it. The guard there gets lazy around dawn. He dozes sometimes. If we time it right, we could get through before he wakes."
Cale narrowed his eyes. "Why help us?"
Rosanna tilted her head. "Because I want out. And you two need help. You think whispering and charm are enough to get past the dogs and the sea patrols?"
Cale opened his mouth to argue, but Regan cut in smoothly. "We don't have to like each other. Just trust each other until we're out."
Rosanna nodded once. "Fine by me."
Cale hesitated. Then he reached out and tapped the map. "We go during the morning handoff. Fog's our cover. We need food, cloaks, and something to cut wire."
"I can handle that," Rosanna said. "Give me two days."
Regan folded the map and tucked it away. "Then in two days, we will stop being prisoners."
Rosanna stood. "Get some sleep. You'll need it."
She walked away, vanishing into shadow.
Cale leaned back against the wall and looked at Regan. "So this is happening."
Regan smiled faintly. "This is happening."
They said nothing else.
But something in the room had shifted. Plans were now in motion.
And there would be no turning back.
That night Cale had a hard time sleeping. His mind was constantly on their escape plan as well as on Emis.
Recently, Cale had been trying to figure out how to use his Veyrathi powers. But he was quick to realise it was a far-fetched dream. If only he had someone to help him — someone to act as a mentor or at least give him a hint — Cale would have been grateful.
If I'd known how to use this power, escaping would have been a piece of cake.
He tossed and turned in his sleep. Then suddenly a vague thought entered his mind.
No, he wouldn't. Cale thought quickly. But maybe…
He made up his mind. Cale would be asking the Yvelin for help.
________________
The morning light didn't quite reach the corners of the dilapidated bathroom. The wooden door creaked closed behind Cale as he slipped inside, locking it with a soft click. The room stank faintly of mildew and rusted pipes, and the chipped mirror above the basin was too clouded to see his own face.
Perfect for privacy.
He turned toward the cracked wall and whispered, "Emis. I need to talk to you."
No answer. For a moment, he thought maybe the Yvelin was ignoring him.
Then, without a sound, a small shape slipped down from the shadowed windowsill — sleek black fur, narrow blue eyes, and the unmistakable look of someone who'd been summoned before breakfast.
Emis landed gracefully and sat, tail curling around his paws. "You have the tone of someone asking for a favor," he said, voice dry as ever.
Cale crossed his arms. "That obvious?"
Emis blinked once, then gave a slow, feline sigh and looked around the dingy space. "What a charming venue. You bring all your honored guests here?"
Cale fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Listen. I'm not here to chat."
"No," Emis said, stretching lazily, "you're here because you're desperate. Go on, then. Let's hear it."
Cale hesitated, then said, "There's a plan. Regan, Rosanna, and I—we're going to escape. Soon. But it's risky. There are too many unknowns. That's why I need your help."
Emis tilted his head. "Help how?"
"Clairvoyance," Cale said plainly. "You can see ahead. Show me where the guards won't be. What route to take. Anything. Just enough to give us a chance."
The Yvelin's expression didn't change, but the air around him grew subtly sharper.
"You want me to cast my sight into the weave of fate," Emis said slowly, "so you can slip through a crack in it."
Cale said nothing. Just held his gaze.
"I've done a lot for you already," Emis added. "You're still alive because of me."
"I know."
"I saved you once in the forest."
"I know, Emis."
"Then you also know I don't give freely."
Cale clenched his jaw. "So what's the price this time?"
There was a beat of silence. Then Emis stood and leapt onto the narrow sink, perching like a shadow. His eyes gleamed in the gray light.
"I want you to go to Theros."
Cale blinked. "What?"
"After the escape," Emis said calmly, "don't go home. Don't vanish. Head to the capital. Find the old roots. There's something waiting there. Something I need you to see."
Cale stared at him. "You're sending me toward the people who would kill me if they knew what I was?"
"It's a large city," Emis said. "You'll find more than just enemies there."
Cale ran a hand through his hair. "Why Theros?"
"You'll know when the time comes."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I'm giving."
Cale leaned back against the door, heart thudding. "If I go to Theros… there's no going home."
"No," Emis agreed. "There isn't."
The silence thickened between them.
Cale looked at the floor, then back up at the cat. "Fine. I'll do it."
Emis gave a small, slow nod — almost regal.
"Then I'll show you what you need to see."
He turned, leapt down, and padded toward the wall. Before fading into shadow again, he paused.
"One more thing," he added over his shoulder. "You asked me once if I had other powers. I do."
"You used something on the Vorrak," Cale said. "It wasn't clairvoyance."
Emis' smile curled like smoke. "You'll see that too. In time."
Then he vanished.
Cale exhaled shakily and leaned his head against the cold wood of the door.
He had Emis' help.
But now, his path was no longer just to escape.
It was a movement — toward something bigger. Something waiting in Theros.
And whatever it was… it had already begun to pull him in.