path to the bored seer

The next morning the entire group woke deeply, thoroughly satisfied.

Residual marks, soft aches, and the loose, contented posture of people who had spent most of the night buried in one another were visible on almost everyone. Even Aether looked more settled after the long, overlapping session that had followed the baths. Breakfast was quiet and unhurried; no one was in a rush to speak until the food was gone and the gear came out.

They packed for the road to Citlali.

Before the main party moved out, two members were deliberately split off.

Varesa stood at the edge of the springs with her usual excessive load of food already reduced to something manageable, yet her expression remained heavy. The guilt had not left her. In her mind the kidnapping still traced back to the slow progress caused by her crates and the extra weight she had insisted on carrying. No amount of reassurance from the others had fully erased the idea that her appetite for supplies had given the Knave the opening she needed.

Chasca, still wearing the red collar (though the leash was currently looped at her hip), stepped up beside her without being asked.

“I’ll take her to the Stadium,” the Name Bearer said simply. “We can wait there for the rest of you. Safer, and she won’t slow the push toward Citlali.”

Rosaria gave a short nod of approval. Xilonen confirmed the route back was straightforward. Aether pulled both women in for a brief, firm goodbye — Varesa clinging a little longer than necessary, Chasca accepting a hand on her collared throat with a soft, still-needy look — before the smaller pair turned toward the path that would lead them to Mavuika’s arena.

The remaining pride formed up.

The journey to the territory of the Masters of the Night-Wind took a little more than a day and a half.

Distance alone would have been manageable, but the entire pride moved with heightened caution. Every ridge was scanned. Every unusual shadow drew a second look. Rosaria kept Aether within arm’s reach at almost all times. Shenhe’s unrestricted presence alone made the air feel heavier whenever the path narrowed. Yelan and Cloud Retainer traded silent perimeter checks. No one said the Knave’s name out loud, yet the possibility of another ambush sat in every decision they made about campsites and marching order.

They reached the outskirts of the settlement in the late afternoon, only to discover that Citlali did not live among the others.

Her residence sat alone on a higher, quieter slope outside the main cluster of buildings — a solid, closed structure that gave off the unmistakable air of someone who preferred solitude. By the time they located the correct path and climbed to her door it was already evening. Lantern light glowed faintly behind shuttered windows, but repeated knocks and calls produced no response. Whatever schedule or temperament the reclusive Name Bearer kept, she had clearly decided the day was over.

Xilonen confirmed there would be no polite way to force the issue without causing more problems than it solved.

The group withdrew a short distance and settled into an open field within sight of the house. Bedrolls came out. A low fire was lit. Watches were assigned with even more care than usual. Aether found himself once again bracketed by protective bodies, the residual tension from the kidnapping still shaping how closely the women kept him.

Citlali’s door remained shut through the night.

They would try again in the morning.