The run back to Pendle felt short. Petros was faster now. Jack held his own pace just enough for the boy to keep up, and they still reached the portal with time to spare.

  They queued at the rear for the Anjelica window. A few travelers tried not to stare at the blue faun behind Petros. Two others did not bother to hide that they were fanboying over Jack.

  Petros stepped toward the threshold.

  A hand caught his collar and yanked him back onto Pendle’s side.

  “Hold the portal,” Raven called to the keymaster across the frame.

  Jack, already crossing, tipped the keymaster a nod that meant do as she says.

  Raven kept both hands on Petros’s shoulders. “Thinking of leaving without a goodbye?”

  “I’m sorry. Something urgent came up. I will explain.”

  Raven’s eyes slid to the faun and back. “And who is the floozy?”

  Petros blinked. “She is my new summoned companion. Part of my evolution.” He got it out fast, before jealousy could dig in.

  Raven studied the faun, then Petros. She kissed him long and sure, turned a look like a drawn blade on the faun, and spun away toward the square.

  “Sir Petros,” the keymaster called, polite but strained. “We cannot hold much longer.”

  Petros jolted and sprinted through with the faun in his wake. The doorway thinned and went out behind them. Raven did not look back, but she was smiling when she reached the tavern door.

  In Anjelica, Jack and Petros cut across the courtyard toward Asil’s office and nearly ran into Abby.

  “If you are looking for your wife,” Abby said, “she is out on a two-day run with soon-to-be C-tiers.”

  Jack stopped. Responsibility tapped him on the shoulder. Freedom. “Right. Abby, Petros was going to tell you about Free…” He turned. Petros and the faun were already vanishing into the fort.

  That little… Jack did not get to finish the thought. Abby caught his collar and tugged him into a quiet alcove.

  “Spill,” she said.

  He let out a long breath and told her…all of it. By the time he finished, her head was down and she was pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “I am sorry,” Jack said. “I need to leave in the morning.”

  “Oh no. You are not skipping out on telling Asil.”

  “A quest came up,” Jack said, tone gone flat and serious. “Petros will fill you in on the details, but I have to go.”

  Abby searched his face, saw there was no game in it, and nodded once. “Then this waits. I will tell her. What do you expect Freedom to try?”

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  “They would be unwise to move soon,” Jack said. “I hurt their ace badly. It should make them think twice.”

  Abby rested a hand on his arm. She knew the cost of these separations. He would not choose one unless the need were real. “I will bring her up to speed.”

  Jack’s gaze slid toward the training grounds, toward the bond in him that always knew where Asil stood. He could reach her before dawn and be back in time for the window. He did not take the step. The team she was leading needed her attention.

  “Thank you,” he said. “And be easy on Petros if you can. He is carrying this too. We were supposed to head out together.”

  She nodded, looking Jack in the eyes with all seriousness, “No promises,” Abby said, but her mouth softened. “Go get ready. I will handle the rest.”

  Jack swung by the armory next. He signed out a several unremarkable but reliable pieces, and fed them into his dimensional satchel. The gear was a part of a plan to give him a reason for travelling out west. Nothing flashy. Everything useful.

  He caught the mess hall before last call and packed a traveler’s bundle: smoked meat, hard cheese, flatbread, dried fruit, and a small tin of spice rub he had mixed himself. The gems would feed him if he let them, but taste mattered, especially on a long road.

  They had also agreed on the disguise. Too many C-tiers were hunting for a measure of him. He would travel as a nobody, plain cloak, plain boots, no brimmed cap, no suspenders, nothing to mark him as Jack Hart unless he wanted it known.

  Outside, he paused at the edge of the square. The fort’s stone shouldered up above the new streets and roofs, the old spine of Anjelica holding steady while carpenters stitched on new ribs. He pictured Petros below, already elbow-deep in notes and lattices.

  “When I get back, kid,” he murmured, “we go together.” A promise, set like a peg.

  He turned southeast and let the bond tug. It never gave him distance, only direction and strength. Asil was out there with her students, the pull faint but certain. He smiled and sent the feeling back along the line, the way you might squeeze a hand in the dark.

  With his kit set and no need for sleep, the night was for stillness. He found a quiet patch behind the fort, folded himself down, and breathed himself into his spirit realm. The higher he climbed, the easier it was to keep one eye on the world while the other looked inward. Sometime past midnight, Saul padded in from the lanes and curled against his side. The wolf had a sense for departures. Lucia was with Asil, helping pace the upper ranks toward their own thresholds.

  Jack let the night hold them. He would miss the first evolutions if the road stretched long. That stung. Duty was still duty. He sank deeper, let the noise of thought thin, and held himself ready for dawn.

  Dawn brought the first hum from the Hajill window. Jack felt it open, felt the trickle of travelers cross, and felt it close. A few heartbeats later, the Pendle portal woke in turn.

  He dressed down before he left his quiet patch: plain trousers, plain boots, a nondescript cloak. Hood up, aura pulled tight until even his shadow looked ordinary. He joined the end of the line in the chamber and let the queue carry him forward.

  Being last through drew a hand to his chest.

  “Unscheduled traveler,” the portal guard said, more by reflex than challenge.

  Jack pushed the hood back. The guard startled.

  “Apologies, sir. Please pass.”

  Jack nodded and stepped toward the threshold.

  “Sir?” the guard called.

  Jack turned and met his eyes.

  “For security,” the man said, polite but firm. “Do you know when to expect you back?”

  Jack considered. It was bad enough he slipped the system he had helped build. No need to make it worse with lies.

  “A few weeks,” he said. “Maybe more.”

  The guard dipped his head. Jack crossed into Pendle. The oval of light thinned and went clear, then nothing at all.

  Alone again in the quiet, the guard exhaled and turned to one of the keymasters. “Taking a quick break.”

  The keymaster nodded without looking up from the cooling sigils.

  In the courtyard, the morning air smelled of wet stone. The guard found a sliver of shade beside a buttress, palmed a rune-etched pebble from his pocket, and fed it a careful sip of mana. The stone warmed. A faint glyph flickered and carried the message away.

  He slipped the pebble back into his pocket, walked a slow loop of the inner wall so the break would look like a walk, and returned to his post before the next window stirred.