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"You're bleeding on my floor."
I looked up. The woman standing in the doorway wasn't Liv. Older, maybe forty, with gray streaks braided tight against her skull and rings on every finger. She had a crossbow slung over one shoulder and a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Sorry," I said. "Didn't mean to drip."
"Sure you didn't." She stepped inside, boots heavy on the wooden planks. "You the one everyone's talking about? The sky-marker?"
Liv moved between us. Fast. Her hand went to her belt.
"Greta."
"Liv Ironthorn." The woman—Greta—tilted her head. "Heard you were dead."
"Not yet."
"Shame. Dead girls don't owe coin." Greta's eyes flicked to me. "But live ones with wanted company? That's a different ledger."
I stood up. The shard pulsed hot against my ribs. "We're not staying."
"Didn't ask if you were." Greta walked past Liv like she wasn't there, stopped in front of me. Close enough I could smell smoke and something sharper. Resin, maybe. "But you're going to want what I'm selling."
"We don't have anything to trade," Liv said.
"Didn't say trade. Said selling." Greta reached into her coat, pulled out a folded square of leather. "Information. About what happened to the Ironthorn camp three winters back."
Liv went still. The kind of still that comes right before someone moves.
"How much?" I said.
Greta's smile got wider. "Smart boy. Twenty silver."
"We don't have twenty silver."
"Then you don't get the name of the elder who sold out Liv's people to Vald's priests."
Liv's blade was out. Not at Greta's throat. Just out. Held low and ready.
"Say that again," Liv said.
Greta didn't move. Didn't blink. "An elder. One of the inner council. Took Vald's coin and opened the west gate the night the Bonewalkers came through. You want the name, you pay."
"You're lying."
"Maybe." Greta shrugged. "Or maybe you spend the rest of your short life not knowing who to gut when you finally get the chance."
I put my hand on Liv's wrist. She jerked away.
"Don't," she said.
"Listen to him," Greta said. "He's got more sense than you do."
"We'll get you the silver," I said.
Liv turned on me. "What?"
"Twenty silver. We'll get it."
"How? You going to conjure it out of that rock in your chest?"
"If I have to." I looked at Greta. "Give us two days."
Greta laughed. Low and rough. "Two days. Sure. And what's my collateral?"
"My word."
"Your word." She looked me up and down. "You're either the dumbest man I've met or the most arrogant. Either way, I like it." She folded the leather square back into her coat. "But I don't do business on words. You want the name, you give me something now."
"Like what?"
"Let me see the shard."
Liv stepped in front of me again. "No."
"Not asking you," Greta said. "Asking him."
I felt the heat spike. The shard didn't like this conversation.
"Why?" I said.
"Because I've seen two god-relics in my life and both times the holder was dead inside a month. You're still breathing. That means you're either blessed or cursed, and I want to know which."
"Cursed," Liv said.
"Didn't ask you," Greta said again.
I pulled my shirt open. The shard sat black and gleaming against my skin, veins of red crawling through the obsidian like living fire. The progress bar hovered just above it. 43%.
Greta leaned in. Her breath was warm on my collarbone.
"Damn," she said softly. "It's really in there."
"Can I put my shirt back now?"
"One more thing." She reached out, fingertip hovering an inch from the shard. "Does it talk to you?"
"Sometimes."
"What's it say?"
"That I'm going to die if I don't level it up."
Greta pulled her hand back. "Honest answer. I respect that." She looked at Liv. "Your boy's not going to make it, you know."
"He's not my boy."
"Sure he's not." Greta walked to the door, paused. "Twenty silver. Two days. You don't show, I sell the name to the next bidder. Vald's people pay good coin for Ironthorn bloodline."
Liv's knuckles went white on the hilt. "Get out."
Greta left. The door swung shut behind her.
Liv stood there, breathing hard.
"We're not doing this," she said.
"Doing what?"
"Chasing ghosts. Buying names from merchants. Playing her game."
"She knows something."
"She knows how to squeeze coin out of desperate people. That's all."
I pulled my shirt closed. "What if she's telling the truth?"
"Then I'll find out another way."
"How? By walking into every camp on the continent and asking politely?"
She turned on me. "You don't get to do this."
"Do what?"
"Act like you care. Act like my dead tribe is your problem now."
"It's not about your tribe," I said. "It's about staying alive long enough to figure out what this thing wants."
"And you think buying secrets from Greta Graycrow is going to help?"
"I think information keeps us breathing. And right now we don't have enough of it."
She stepped closer. Close enough I could see the muscle jumping in her jaw. "You want to help? Stop talking. Stop making deals. Stop acting like you know how to survive out here when you can't even start a fire without that rock doing it for you."
"I kept you from falling into a steam vent yesterday."
"And I kept you from bleeding out in a ditch last week. That doesn't make us partners."
"Then what are we?"
She didn't answer. Just stared at me like she was trying to decide whether to punch me or walk out.
The shard pulsed. Once. Hard enough I felt it in my ribs.
New quest available.
I closed my eyes. "No. Not now."
"What?" Liv said.
"It's giving me another quest."
"Tell it to wait."
"It doesn't work like that."
The text scrolled across my vision. Cold and clear.
Quest: Retrieve the stolen child from the Vald camp before dawn. Reward: +15% progress. Failure: Hostile faction gains access to shard resonance.
"What's it say?" Liv asked.
I opened my eyes. "There's a kid. In Vald's camp. It wants me to get them out."
"No."
"I didn't say I was going to do it."
"Good. Because we're not."
"What if the kid dies?"
"Then they die." She turned away. "We're not heroes, Aiden. We're two people trying not to get killed. That's it."
"So we just leave them."
"Yes."
I looked at the quest text again. The countdown had already started. Six hours until dawn.
"I can't do that," I said.
Liv spun around. "You can't—what?"
"I can't just leave a kid in a camp full of priests who want to resurrect an ancient god."
"You don't even know if the kid is real. This thing could be lying to you."
"It hasn't lied yet."
"It hasn't told you the truth either." She grabbed my arm. Hard. "Listen to me. Vald's camp is twenty men, all armed, all trained, all looking for you. You walk in there and you're dead. And when you're dead, I'm dead. Because they'll come for me next."
"Then don't come."
Her grip tightened. "Don't be stupid."
"I'm not being stupid. I'm being practical. If I don't do this, the shard stays at 43%. If it stays at 43%, I don't get the next skill unlock. And if I don't get that, we're both dead anyway the next time someone with a real weapon shows up."
She let go. Stepped back. "You're going to get yourself killed."
"Probably."
"And you're fine with that."
"No. But I'm less fine with doing nothing."
She stared at me. Long enough I thought she was going to walk out and leave me there.
Then she swore. Low and vicious.
"If we do this," she said, "we do it my way. No heroics. No mercy. We go in, we grab the kid, we leave. Anyone gets in the way, we put them down."
"Agreed."
"And you owe me."
"For what?"
"For keeping you alive when you're clearly trying to die."
I almost smiled. "Deal."
The door opened again. Greta leaned in, crossbow in hand.
"Change of plans," she said.
"We didn't agree to anything yet," Liv said.
"Not talking about the name." Greta tossed something at me. I caught it. A rolled map, edges burned. "That's the location of a safe house. Two days' walk north. There's someone there you need to meet."
"Who?" I said.
Greta's eyes shifted to Liv. "Someone who survived the same night you didn't."
Liv went rigid.
"You're lying," she said.
Greta smiled. "Only one way to find out."
She left. Again. The door swung shut.
Liv grabbed the map out of my hands, unrolled it. Her fingers were shaking.
"This is a trap," she said.
"Maybe."
"Definitely."
"Then we'll be ready."
She looked at me. Something raw in her eyes. Something I hadn't seen before.
"If this is real," she said quietly, "if someone really survived—"
"We'll find them."
She nodded. Once. Then rolled the map back up and shoved it in her pack.
"We leave at first light," she said. "After we get the kid."
"After we get the kid," I agreed.
She walked to the door, stopped. Didn't turn around.
"Don't make me regret this," she said.
Then she was gone.
I stood there, alone in the dim room, the shard hot against my ribs and the quest timer counting down.
Five hours and forty-two minutes until dawn.
I pulled my coat on and followed her out into the cold.