Daybreak edged across Blackspoke Row slowly, as if the sun itself was wary of rising above the slanted roofs and soot-streaked alleys. Some time during the pre-dawn hours, the rain had fallen, leaving in its wake a smell of wet stone and oily gutters glinting with dew. Cael awoke beneath the thin woolen blanket Tovin had flung over him, eyes crusted with sleep dirt and body racked with pain from the damp stone floor.

  Tovin was already up, perched in the broken window like a cat watching the street below. His coin whirled around his fingers in agitated motion, the worn bronze flashing dully in the gray light.

  "Storm blew through," Tovin remarked without looking around. "But I don't like it so quiet."

  Cael got up slowly, massaging the stiffness from his neck. "Do you think they're still looking for me?"

  Tovin shrugged. "Most likely. The Gilded Hollow does not let go so easily."

  Cael flinched at the name. "You said that last night. The Gilded Hollow. How do you know about them?

  And now Tovin turned, his eyes sharp with another kind of fervor. "Everybody in Blackspoke has the stories. Usually in whispers. Some say they used to be part of the Mintwright Compact—before things got corrupted. Others say they always were the corruption beneath the shine."

  He jumped off the ledge, brushing at dust on his sleeves. "No one really knows how far it goes. But they have agents in every district. Emberlight salesmen who never bargain. Coinwrights who never smile. Even the guards—some of them go quiet when you mention 'the Hollow.'"

  Cael's mind reeled at the tall tale of his father, at the phrase "they came from the Hollow.".

  “What do people say they do?” he asked.

  Tovin managed a mirthless grin. "It depends on who you ask. Blackspoke kids say that they steal souls and sew them into coins. Some coinwrights say that they are working on making a coin that changes memory. I heard a rumor—I swear it is true—that someone found a Hollow treasure of cursed silver which shrieks when you touch it."

  Cael tried to hide the shiver that coursed through him. He felt the solid, reassuring weight of his father's coin in his pocket, but he didn't take it out. Not yet. Not here.

  "So, most of it is legend."

  "Sure," replied Tovin, "but you know what they say about legends. There's always a spark of truth hidden somewhere in the ash.".

  Cael leaned back against the rough wall, eyes distant. "My father was a coinmage. Worked for the mayor. He did something for them… or at least they thought he did."

  Tovin's eyebrow climbed. "You know what it was?"

  Cael paused. "No. But I think… whatever it was, that's why he died. Then, last night, when you saw me running away, I was attacked by an agent from the Hollow while visiting a friend of my fathers out here in Blackspoke Row."

  There was silence for a moment. The kind of silence that felt too big for a pair of kids hiding in a broken house.

  “Then you’re gonna need more than a silver tongue and a fast pair of legs,” Tovin said. “You’re gonna need friends. Eyes in the dark. A way to get past the kind of people who don’t leave shadows.”

  Cael looked up at him. “You in?”

  Tovin scrunched his smile. "Didn't I just swear so?"

  He tossed his bronzed coin the second time and caught it with an upward arch before secreting it away under his coat once again. "But even still, you have yet to let me know what you have. I noticed you grabbing at something with your life."

  Cael’s hand reflexively went to his pouch. “It’s… personal. For now.”

  Tovin didn’t push. Just nodded once. “Alright. Secrets are fair. You’ve got yours. I’ve got mine.”

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  They sat in quiet for a while longer as the morning crept toward something like daylight. Voices started to echo through Blackspoke—boots on cobbles, curses from alley mouths, the bark of a trader who didn’t belong here.

  But inside the broken building, two boys huddled with a plan, half-thought and half-spoken. Companions bound not in blood or coin, but in danger—and maybe the faintest spark of justice.

  "Ever been to the Emberlight Market?" Cael interrupted.

  Tovin smiled. "Born two blocks from the thing. What're you thinking?"

  "I need equipment. Tools. Maybe someone who can tell me some hard answers."

  Tovin cracked his knuckles. “Then you’ve come to the right rat.”

  They stood, the day ahead of them—and shadows still chasing close behind.

  Tovin swung his jacket over his shoulder and motioned Cael to follow. “We’ll take the back ways. Less eyes, fewer questions.”

  Cael tucked the coin of silver back into his pouch, fingers stroking its edge a beat too long before releasing the flap back to shut. He didn't like keeping secrets from Tovin—particularly after the boy had pulled him out of the storm and into safety—but the coin still felt too raw, too sacred. As if it would vanish if he revealed it.

  They slipped into the alley, boots whispering over puddles and loose stone. Morning in Blackspoke meant beggars curling out from crates, and vendors wheeling carts loaded with whatever hadn’t spoiled in the night. No guards. Not here. Just the quiet war of survival.

  “You said you knew Emberlight?” Cael asked as they turned a corner where the buildings leaned too close.

  "Like the back of my filthy hand." Tovin darted under a swinging curtain of laundry, laughing. "It's the one place in this city that plays like the world isn't broken. Bright cloth, flashy coins for sale, and fire-dancers on every other street.”

  "But it's all a lie?"

  Tovin snorted. "Course it is. But sometimes, show's enough to fool people who need fooling. You want tools? Information? That's where the real dealers set up. You just need to know who not to trust."

  "And you do?"

  "I know who robbed me," Tovin said with a crooked smile. "And I know who tried and failed."

  They passed by a cluster of children playing with a tin can in the shape of a coin, inventing spells. One shouted, "Lightning arc!" as the other dramatically plunged out of the way of an invisible arc of lightning. Cael trailed behind them until they disappeared.

  "I used to play like that," he whispered.

  Tovin raised an eyebrow. "When you were in Hearthway?"

  Cael blinked at him. "How'd you know?

  “You’ve got the shoulders of someone who’s had warm food every night of his life. Until recently.” Tovin wasn’t cruel about it—just blunt. “Don’t worry. You’ll pick up the slouch soon enough.”

  Cael managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

  They walked in silence for a few minutes more before Tovin spoke again. “So. That silver coin of yours.”

  Cael stiffened.

  “I’m not asking what it does. Yet,” Tovin added quickly. “But I saw the way your hand never left your pouch last night. You guard it like it’s your heart.”

  Cael glanced down at the cobbled stones beneath his boots. “It’s the last thing I have of him. My father. It… speaks to me.”

  Tovin stopped. “Like… speaks speaks?”

  “An illusion. A message, I think. Something he left behind. It doesn’t say much, but he mentioned the Hollow. Said they came for something he made.”

  Tovin’s expression sobered. “That’s more than most get.”

  They started walking again, slower now. Tovin looked thoughtful. “Some say coinmages can trap more than spells in their work. Feelings. Voices. The way they smiled. You think your dad bound a part of himself to that silver?”

  Cael nodded. “I think he tried to protect me. Or give me something to follow.”

  Tovin gave a low whistle. “That’s old magic. Coinbinding like that… you only hear about in legends.”

  “I want to learn,” Cael said. “Not just to fight. I want to make things. Things that can matter. Like he did.”

  Tovin looked at him sideways. “You’re not like most folk from the top half of the city, Calderyn.”

  “Good.”

  They walked into a busier street now. The structures were more brightly illuminated, less damaged, and the scent of spice and steel wrapped through the air. The Emberlight Market was nearby.

  Tovin unbuttoned his coat and put his bronze coin in his hand. "Watch yourself. The Hollow doesn't like people searching for them. And in Emberlight…they’ve got more masks than faces.”

  Cael took a deep breath and nodded, stepping forward with his hand close to the silver in his pouch.

  The ember of justice that had burned in his heart still glowed. With Tovin by his side, it had flared.