I clenched my jaw. She wasn’t wrong.
Hunter returned with an armful of candles, setting them down on the desk like they were made of gold. Lyra gave him a small nod of thanks before arranging them around the map in a precise circle. Her movements were fluid, deliberate, like she’d done this a hundred times before.
“Alright,” she said, straightening up. “I’ll need a drop of blood from each of you.”
“Of course you do,” I muttered under my breath, stepping forward before anyone else could.
Lyra met my eyes as she took my hand, her touch light but steady. “You first, then,” she said, her voice softer now.
The dagger’s tip pricked my finger, and a single drop of blood welled up before falling onto the blade. The runes glowed faintly, and for the first time, I felt a sliver of hop
