The sun rose over Shewa like a smoldering ember, its heat stretching out across the dry land as Khisa and Tesfaye coordinated the final wave of travelers heading to the coast. Quietly, deliberately, they sent them in waves—no group larger than ten, no one following the same route. Carpenters left first, disguised as fishermen and wandering tinkerers. Then came the sailors, acting like exiles in search of work. All were given strict instructions: speak little, listen much, disappear into the crowd.
At Assab, Biruk and the Three Shadows—Zuberi, Simba, and Wasike—had already begun their silent work. They were ghosts among the living, drifting from dockside taverns to merchant yards, always watching, never watched. It was during one of these silent walks that Biruk found it—a narrow path choked by thorny shrubs, leading to a rock face that opened into a hidden inlet.
A perfect cove.