The Mist Tracks Your Movements

The Crownless House isn't the only faction watching.

He stifled a curse. Another faction? This city is going to implode under the weight of so many secrets. He glanced over at Vyrelda. She caught the shift in his posture but said nothing. Her expression said it all: We're in deeper than we thought.

A short while later, the caravan slowed as they reached the outskirts of a major checkpoint. The glint of polished metal armor and the telltale hum of scanning devices told them exactly who controlled it—Technomancer enforcers, accompanied by those eerie mist-hunting sentinels. The wagons ahead were being stopped, goods inspected, travelers questioned. Mikhailis cursed softly.

"Time to go," he whispered.