Nevara
The room still smelled faintly of ink when Thoren finished speaking.
Not the comforting kind.
The kind that clung to too many documents, too many names, too many pieces of something that refused to sit still long enough to make sense.
I stood at the edge of the table, staring down at the marked map he had just finished walking me through, my fingers resting lightly against the wood as though I could steady the pieces by holding onto something solid.
“A network,” I said quietly.
“Not a hierarchy.”
Thoren nodded once.
“That’s what he claims.”
“And you believe him.”
It wasn’t a question.
He didn’t hesitate.
“I think he’s telling the truth about that part.”
That part.
The phrasing mattered.
I exhaled slowly and pushed away from the table, pacing once before turning back t
