They camped that night at the foot of the broken glacier. Snow fell in soft layers, muffling the wind and fire. Aeren sat beside the flickering flames, eyes locked on Roen, who hadn't spoken in hours.
Elira sharpened her blade absently, and Veylan whittled at a bone pipe, face unreadable as always.
"So," Elira finally said, breaking the silence, "how many towers have you destroyed, exactly?"
Roen cracked a faint grin. "Only two. Three if you count the one that collapsed itself trying to contain me."
"You sound proud."
"I'm not," he said. "But the towers had it coming."
Before anyone could respond, there was a rustle in the snow. Everyone tensed.
Then a voice rang out.
"Okay, okay, nobody stab me! I'm just here to borrow your fire! And maybe your soup."
A girl tumbled from the ridge above, landing in a practiced crouch. She was wrapped in mismatched furs, her hair half-braided and full of snow. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. And a small raccoon-like creature peeked from her satchel.
"Who are you?" Elira said flatly, sword half-raised.
"Name's Kael. Kael With-A-K, Finder of Lost Things, Stealer of Hearts, and accidental fire-thief. You?"
Aeren blinked. "We… don't usually get visitors."
"You lit a massive flame on a glacier," Kael said, gesturing. "It's like saying, 'hello world, we have soup.'"
She strode over and plopped herself down beside Aeren.
Roen narrowed his eyes. "You're not afraid?"
"Of what? You?" She leaned toward him dramatically. "Oh no, a mysterious fire-man with broody eyebrows."
Roen blinked. "Broody—?"
Kael winked. "Relax. If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it while you were arguing about tower ethics."
Veylan chuckled for the first time. "I like her."
"Of course you do," Elira muttered.
Aeren watched Kael, confused but curious. Something about her felt… important. Familiar, even.
"You said you're a finder of lost things?" he asked.
"Yup. Maps, coins, curses, awkward first kisses, destiny—you name it." She popped a dried fruit into her mouth. "Why?"
"Because we're trying to find something."
Kael smirked. "I figured. You've got that 'world's-about-to-end' vibe."
"And what vibe do you have?" Roen asked.
She leaned back, arms behind her head. "I'm the wild card."
---
Later that night, Aeren sat alone by the fire, while Kael quietly fed her animal companion something from a wax pouch.
"You know," she said, "you don't look like a hero."
He laughed softly. "I'm not."
She tilted her head. "But you will be?"
He didn't answer right away. "I don't know what I'll be. Everyone keeps telling me I'm meant for something… but I just want to stop the Hollow Crown."
Kael nodded. "Fair. Destiny's overrated anyway."
They sat in silence.
Then she added, "You've got good eyes, though."
He blinked. "What?"
"Not creepy-good. Just… honest. Makes people want to follow you." She shrugged. "Or kiss you. Depends on the day."
Aeren turned red so fast he nearly fell off the log.
Kael laughed, long and clear.
"You're fun, Evernight."
"How do you know my name?" he asked, suspicious.
She looked at him, smile fading just a little.
"Finder of lost things, remember?" she said.
And for the first time, Aeren saw something else in her eyes—sadness.
---
In the frozen vault of the Hollow Crown, Aris stood before the Shard of Ash. The relic pulsed in time with her breath.
"They've met her," she whispered. "Perfect."
Behind her, dozens of empty husks waited—bodies without souls, waiting for magic.
And the shard began to hum.
"Let's see what the Thief awakens in him."
Outside, a storm began to rise.