Nella lived in a room above the village bakery.
When Mara delivered Tamsin’s message, the woman pressed both hands to her mouth and began to cry.
“She’s alive,” Nella said.
“I thought the border took her.”
“She’s on the road. She said she was coming here.”
“Then I’ll keep the oven warm.”
Nella gave them bread, clean clothes, and a place to sleep.
In return, Mara told her the truth about the palace.
She left out the part where the priest had hit the wall hard enough to crack stone.
Nella listened without interrupting.
When the twins finished, she brought them down to the bakery cellar.
“There’s someone you should meet.”
A woman sat at a flour-dusted table with a sword across her knees.
She had close-cropped hair, one silver earring, and a pale scar that ran from her jaw to the edge of her collar.
Her armor had been polished once, long ago.
A broken sunburst had been painted over on the breastplate.
“Sera,” Nella said.
“She used to serve the Crown.”
“I used to serve its story,” Sera corrected.
Mara studied the scar.
“What happened?”
“I asked the wrong question.” Sera looked at the twins.
“You’re the two from the summoning.”
“You know about us?” Elias asked.
“Everyone knows about you. The Crown’s been telling the city you’re cursed, dangerous, and planning to unleash the storm.”
“We’ve been here three days,” Mara said.
“A good lie gets ahead of the truth.”
Sera rolled a small metal disk across the table.
“This is a ward token. Every village that pays the Crown’s toll receives one. The Crown says the tokens connect to the storm barrier.”
“Do they?”
“They connect to the Dawn Engine beneath the capital. The engine draws power from the people who live inside the ward.”
Mara picked up the disk.
It was warm.
“What kind of power?”
“Life. Memory. Magic. It takes what people can spare and a little more.”
Elias’s face darkened.
“The Crown is draining them.”
“It calls the drain a tax,” Sera said.
“The villages call it the price of safety.”
“And the storm?”
“Real. But the Crown did not create it. The barrier only redirects it. Every year, the engine weakens. Every year, the Crown claims it needs more.”
“You served them for how long?” Mara asked.
“Eight years.” Sera turned the insignia on her breastplate so its broken edge caught the light.
“I was seventeen when the Crown made me a champion. They gave me a shining sword and a story about protecting the realm. People cheered when I rode through the villages. They saw a girl in armor and thought someone had come to save them.”
“And when you learned the truth?”
“I was sent to guard the engine during a transfer. A whole hamlet had been emptied into it. The people were lined up at the tower, smiling because they thought they were giving their magic willingly. They could barely remember their own children by nightfall.”
Sera’s fingers closed around the disk.
“I asked the marshal to stop the process. He told me the storm would kill more than the engine ever could. He might even have believed it. That was the hardest part.”
“What happened to your order?” Elias asked.
“They stood with me. Caedran ordered the doors shut.”
Mara studied Sera’s scar.
“And you survived.”
“I ran. I have spent years deciding whether that makes me a coward or the only witness left.”
“Maybe both,” Elias said.
Sera looked at him, then gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
“Maybe.”
The cellar felt smaller.
Mara looked at the village through the narrow window.
They had believed that their sacrifice kept their children safe.
“Why tell us?”
“Because the Crown will come for Lowmere whether you stay or leave. It wants your power. The priest thinks two linked souls can feed the engine for a century.”
Elias took a step closer.
“They’re going to try to put us in that machine?”
“They’ll call it an honor.”
“Then let them try.”
Sera raised a hand.
“That’s what I said, once. I was the Crown’s brightest champion. I believed the war was real, the sacrifices necessary, the stories true. When I learned what the engine did, I tried to stop it. The Crown called me a traitor and burned my order alive.”
Her voice stayed flat.
The scar did not.
Mara felt something in her chest open—a place where anger could become purpose.
“Can the engine be stopped?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Break the central lens beneath the capital. The barrier will fall.”
Elias looked through the window at the village.
“And the storm will hit them.”
“That’s why I haven’t done it.”
Mara set the token on the table.
“Then we find another way.”
Sera studied her.
“You were summoned to be a hero. You know that, right?”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“The Crown will keep hunting you.”
Elias moved beside his sister.
“It can get in line.”
Sera’s mouth twitched, almost a smile.
“Then you’d better learn what your bond can do before they catch you.”