Back at the base, the Egg Tree hummed softly—sap-light drifting through its veins like a living lantern—while the Knights sat in a loose, tired sprawl, trying to fit jagged pieces into something that made sense.
Arcade broke the silence first, arms folded, tail bristling.
“Too convenient,” he said flatly. “Crystal just happens to be at the centre of it, the zombies trigger right on cue, and Father Brick-Wall gets his arrest with a bow on top? Nah. That’s staged like a bad tutorial level.”
Ray leaned against the table, jaw tight, arms folded.
“When Crystal was taken, there was something there,” she said. “I know there was. A room, a passage, something. If we’d had more time, we could’ve found it.”
Pitch stood beside her, quieter than usual, one shoulder resting against the wall. “You heard stone move.”
Ray nodded once. “Brick against brick. Then she was gone.”
Arcade pointed at her with a half-eaten crust. “Secret door.”
Topsy gasped from the other side of the table. “Secret murder wall confirmed.”
Hughes sighed. “Please stop naming evidence.”
Celeste nodded slowly, crumbs on her sleeve as she balanced a slice of jam-on-toast over a spread-out map of Clawdiff.
“I keep thinking… if we can find the Luminarch Pontifex, we might be able to force a review. At least a fair trial. Even the Church can’t just—” she made a vague hand motion “—delete people without paperwork.”
Silver, seated a little apart, adjusted the borrowed armour like it still hadn’t forgiven him.
“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t sent a search party already,” he admitted. “Either she’s keeping this quiet… or she’s letting it unfold on purpose.”
Mezzo snorted. “Comforting.”
Silver shrugged. “She rarely tells me anything directly. But I wouldn’t want to argue with her Left Hand.”
Celeste looked up. “Silent?”
Silver nodded once. “A deadly assassin. Polite. Efficient. Smiles while ruining your entire existence.”
Celeste, entirely unfazed, took another bite of toast.
“I think Lady Umbranox is cool.”
The room froze.
Mezzo slowly turned to her.
“She tortured you, Celeste.”
“And threatened to crush you like a teacup if Silver died,” Ray added helpfully.
Celeste shrugged, genuinely thoughtful.
“I know. But she’s also a cat. And she runs the Council. Did you know she’s only one of three women in history to ever sit on the Throne of Sight? That’s… kind of amazing.”
Mezzo stared at her like she had just complimented a volcano.
“You are unhinged.”
Arcade sighed. “We’re doomed.”
Silver blinked. “…You looked up my family history?”
Celeste brightened immediately.
“Oh! Yes. I liked the portraits of the Maine Coons in the Council halls. There are so many of them—different eras, different styles. I got curious how many Arcturuses there actually were. It’s fascinating how consistent the cheekbones are.”
Silver, despite himself, smiled.
Just a little.
“…That’s surprisingly sweet,” he admitted.
Topsy leaned across the table, grinning. “Awwww. See? You can be sweet too.”
Silver’s ears flicked.
“Do be careful, Topsy,” he said dryly. “If you accuse me of softness too often, people may begin to believe I possess organs.”
Topsy pointed at him. “That was a yes.”
“It was not.”
“It was a fancy yes.”
Celeste rocked on her heels, warming to the subject. “I read about one of them in particular. Tiffany Arcturus. She was—um—kind of amazing?”
Silver’s smile faltered.
Not displeased.
More… attentive.
“She refused to be married off,” Celeste continued, hands fluttering as she condensed a lifetime into a breath. “So she made herself unmarriageable. On purpose. Scandal, whispers, the whole dramatic opera. Everyone thought she was awful, but really she just didn’t want to be traded like furniture.”
Celeste’s eyes softened.
“Then she lived alone with a house full of bugcats and turned her estate into a sanctuary. That part made me cry a bit.”
Silver cleared his throat.
“She didn’t ‘court married men,’ strictly speaking,” he corrected gently. “Most of those affairs were… exaggerated. Two were entirely fabricated by rivals.”
Celeste froze. “Oh—sorry! The records—”
He lifted a hand. “No. You’ve got the spirit of it right.”
A pause.
“The Council did brand her fallen. And yes—she absolutely weaponised scandal to escape a contract.”
His mouth twitched.
“It was… audacious.”
Celeste beamed. “See? I knew she was cool.”
Silver studied her for a moment.
Really looked.
Then nodded once, slow and thoughtful.
“She was,” he said. “Most of the family pretends she didn’t exist. But among the servants and the outer wards… she was remembered kindly.”
Celeste smiled, small and earnest. “I like her. She chose kindness over duty.”
Silver’s gaze drifted back to the map for a heartbeat, doubt softening at the edges.
“…So did she,” he murmured.
Then, as if realising how sincere that had sounded, he straightened and added, “Appalling career move, naturally.”
Topsy clasped both hands under her chin. “Awwww.”
Silver pointed at her without looking. “Not another word.”
Celeste beamed, jam still on her lip, completely unaware she had just disarmed a Council heir with historical enthusiasm and bread.
“…There’s another one,” he said. “If you’re collecting Arcturus misfits.”
Celeste’s ears perked instantly. “Oh. Yes. Please.”
Silver exhaled, then continued, tone shifting from polished recital to something quieter.
“Korren Arcturus. Early eighth century.” He glanced sideways at her. “My grandfather hated him. Called him a disgrace. Said his name shouldn’t be spoken in the house at all.”
Celeste frowned. “That usually means they did something right.”
A surprised huff escaped him.
He nodded.
“He refused a political marriage. Flatly. Said no alliance was worth living in a cage.” Silver’s mouth curved faintly. “The Council erased him for it. Stripped his name. Cast him out.”
Celeste’s eyes widened. “And then?”
“And then,” Silver said, a spark of genuine admiration slipping through, “he became Talon.”
He spoke the name with clear fondness.
“He wandered Caerfaen with a blade and nothing else. Challenged nobles, mercenaries, anyone who thought rank made them untouchable. Never told a soul who he was.” Silver’s gaze drifted, as if seeing a different world overlaid on the room. “They called his style the Arcturus Shadow. Swift. Precise. No wasted motion.”
Celeste smiled softly. “That’s… kind of incredible.”
“It is,” Silver agreed without hesitation. “He died young. No one’s sure how. Tavern duel. Assassins. Depends which song you believe.”
A beat.
“The bards remembered him. The Council did not.”
He looked at Celeste then, searching her face.
“I used to look him up in the restricted archives,” he admitted. “When I was younger. I… admired him.”
His voice dropped.
“Choosing freedom over duty takes more courage than obedience ever will.”
Celeste didn’t tease him.
Didn’t joke.
She just nodded, warm and certain.
“I like him too,” she said. “He sounds like someone who refused to let the world tell him who he was allowed to be.”
Silver smiled—properly this time.
Not sharp.
Not practised.
“…Yes,” he said. “Exactly.”
Then, because sincerity had apparently startled even him, he glanced away and said, “And there you are again, making rebellion sound like a tea-time virtue. Dangerous habit, Commander.”
Celeste smiled. “Is that bad?”
“No,” Silver said.
The word came too quickly to be a joke.
Then he softened it with a faint smirk.
“It’s… inconveniently admirable.”
Ray and Pitch exchanged a look.
A very suspicious look.
Ray’s eyes narrowed.
Pitch’s brows lifted.
Silver caught them staring. “What?”
“Nothing,” Ray said.
Pitch nodded. “Absolutely nothing.”
“That sounded like something.”
Ray took a bite of toast, still staring. “Nope.”
Pitch leaned closer to her and murmured, “That was almost a compliment.”
Silver’s tail flicked. “I heard that.”
“Good,” Ray said.
Bonbon climbed into Celeste’s lap without asking—because Bonbon never asked—and immediately commandeered the toast like it had always been hers by divine right.
Celeste laughed softly, letting it happen, one hand steadying Bonbon while the other brushed crumbs off her sleeve.
“Well,” she said fondly, “I suppose that answers who that was for.”
Silver hesitated—just a fraction—then slid his own untouched toast across the table toward her.
Celeste blinked. “Oh—thank you.”
He smiled, smooth and practised, voice warm.
“A leader shouldn’t go hungry.”
Mezzo made an exaggerated gagging noise from across the table.
“Oh stars, I’m going to need hazard pay if this gets any sweeter.”
Celeste didn’t mind in the slightest. She just smiled back, cheeks a little pink, while Silver’s eyes stayed on her longer than strictly necessary.
Hughes cleared his throat—professionally, pointedly—and tapped the map with one finger.
“Focus,” he said. “Kraken sighted here, Clawdiff Bay.”
His finger traced an inland route.
“Carriage movement aligns with the road toward the Luminarch Cathedral. After Haynes Road… nothing. No sightings. No reports.”
Celeste absentmindedly brushed Bonbon’s hair, humming as Bonbon munched contentedly.
“Then that’s where we should check,” she said simply. “If something vanished there, it probably didn’t stop there.”
Silver leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing.
“Before we start chasing vanished carriages through Haynes Road,” he said, raising his arcbracer, “I’ll try my mother. If anyone knows whether the Pontifex has surfaced, it will be her.”
He tapped the contact.
CAEDRIX UMBRANOX — DIRECT LINE
The bracer rang once.
Twice.
Then Umbranox’s composed recorded voice came through.
“You have reached Caedrix Umbranox Arcturus. I am presently in session. Leave a concise message if you value your future.”
A tone followed.
Silver stared at the bracer.
Then sighed.
“Mother,” he said, clipped and formal, “have you seen or received confirmation regarding the Luminarch Pontifex’s current location? The Knights are following evidence tied to missing relics, missing clergy, and a possible concealed route near the cathedral. A response would be appreciated before anyone else vanishes.”
He paused.
Then added, reluctantly, “Also, your commander has discovered statutory law. It is… unexpectedly effective.”
He ended the call.
Arcade leaned back. “Did you just tell your mother Celeste weaponised paperwork?”
“Yes.”
Celeste’s ears perked. “Was that wrong?”
“No,” Silver said. “That is precisely why I told her.”
Mezzo leaned back, grinning. “Oh, Haynes Road? Brilliant. Love that place. Smells like wet regret and bad decisions. Very atmospheric.”
Celeste snorted despite herself.
The laugh slipped out easy and bright—exactly the kind Mezzo aimed for.
Silver noticed.
Of course he did.
He said nothing, only lifted a brow and looked faintly amused, as if filing the moment away for later.
The plan settled into place—not with orders or ranks, but with shared food, shared laughter, and a map slowly filling with intent.
Whatever waited beyond Haynes Road…
They were going together.
