Naomi settled deeper into Elara’s lap, her small fingers curling tightly around the woman’s hand as she closed her eyes. The hush in the room thickened, wrapping around them like a held breath.

  Del felt it immediately—that same flicker deep in his gut. But this time, it was stronger, more sure of itself, like an ember catching properly for the first time. The room felt heavier, the hush wrapping around them like the held breath of the world itself.

  Naomi’s lips parted slightly, and when she spoke, her voice was hushed, filled with awe.

  “I’m outside… Wow, the market is like a sparkly fairyland.”

  Elara’s fingers brushed lightly through her hair, grounding her. “What do you see?”

  Naomi let out a breathless giggle. “The people are all blue. Lots of different blues, all sort of glowing. Some are bright, some are pale, some are all fuzzy like they’re not quite here.”

  Del frowned slightly. That’s new. “What do you mean, fuzzy?”

  Naomi hummed in thought. “Like they’re only halfway here. Some flicker, like candle flames when there’s wind. Others are really strong and bright, and when they talk, their colours sort of… mix together for a second.”

  Paolo raised an eyebrow. “Mix?”

  “Yeah!” Naomi’s voice was gaining excitement. “Like… look, when those two people are talking—ooh, that’s funny—when they laugh, their blue goes all wiggly and pink! And when that lady over there gets mad, her colour gets all pointy and red! That’s weird.”

  Del exchanged a glance with Elara. He’d seen plenty of odd things in his time here, but seeing emotions as colours? That was a whole new level of strange.

  Naomi suddenly let out a delighted giggle. “I can see where Nate is hiding from the others… he’s in that bush, you doughnuts.”

  Paolo exhaled sharply through his nose. Del caught the flicker of amusement in his expression before he rubbed a hand over his face.

  “That little sod,” Paolo muttered. “He always swears he’s the best at hiding.”

  Naomi’s head turned slightly, her expression shifting. “Ooooh, Donna’s out shopping.”

  Elara perked up. “What’s she doing?”

  Naomi scrunched her nose. “She’s buying onions.” A beat. “Lots of onions.”

  Paolo sighed. “That means stew again.”

  Naomi kept watching. “Her colours are kinda yellowy, but when she looks at the butcher’s stall, it turns a little green.” She giggled. “I think she doesn’t like the meat.”

  “She probably doesn’t like the price,” Del muttered.

  Naomi continued scanning the marketplace, her excitement bubbling through. “Oh! That man just tried to take an apple from the stall, but—ha! The stall keeper saw him and now he’s going all purple! He’s scared!”

  Del shook his head. So not only can she see emotions, but she can tell when someone’s about to get a bollocking? That was a bloody useful trick.

  Naomi giggled again, shifting slightly in Elara’s lap. “I’m going to look at what Mummy is doing,” she announced gleefully.

  A pause.

  Then—

  “There she is! What’s she doing with Mr Tyler?”

  Del barely suppressed a laugh. Paolo turned his head sharply, lips pressing together, but the slight shake of his shoulders betrayed his efforts to hold it in.

  Naomi gasped. “Ooooh, she must have got her shirt dirty because Mr Tyler is helping her take it off!”

  Del choked on nothing. Paolo wheezed, and Elara let out the softest sigh of pure, resigned patience.

  “Naomi,” she said smoothly, “I think you should move on.”

  Naomi let out a disappointed little sigh but didn’t argue.

  Paolo was still choking into his fist, his shoulders shaking with the effort of not laughing outright. Del, for his part, could barely keep his face neutral.

  Naomi huffed dramatically. “Fine,” she muttered. “But Mummy’s colours are all pink and wiggly now.”

  Paolo lost it, coughing to cover his laugh.

  Del didn’t even try to hide his grin.

  Elara just sighed again, rubbing her temple.

  Elara waited a moment before guiding her forward. “Now, do you know the way to Vita’s home?”

  The mood in the room shifted. The laughter softened into something quieter, more focused.

  Naomi nodded, her face turning serious, mirroring the expressions of both Paolo and Del.

  “I want you to go that way and think hard about her,” Elara instructed gently. She hesitated for a moment, choosing her next words carefully. “Did you see your silver thread?”

  A small nod.

  Elara gave an approving hum. “Good. As you get to her home and think hard about her, you are looking for another thread. It may be greenish, like mine.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The room fell into a still silence, only the faintest rustle of cloth marking Del shifting forward in his seat. The air around them felt thick, as though charged with something unseen.

  Time stretched, seconds slipping by at an agonising pace.

  Del clenched his fists unconsciously.

  You go, girl. I know you can do this.

  But the thought carried weight.

  Please let her do this.

  Naomi’s small features remained perfectly still, but then—

  “I see her house,” she breathed, a bright smile breaking across her face. “It’s all glowy.”

  Del exhaled slowly. The tension in his chest didn’t quite ease.

  Elara returned Naomi’s smile with one of her own. “It looks like magic, doesn’t it?”

  Naomi gave an eager nod.

  “Can you see her thread?”

  Her brows knitted together slightly, and Del saw the minute shift in her head as if she were physically scanning her surroundings.

  “I think I do,” she said at last. “It’s all sort of a light yellow-green, but it’s all twisted up with black.”

  A pause.

  A small, sharp intake of breath.

  “That black seems bad.” Her voice was smaller now, uncertain. “Angry.”

  Del felt his jaw tighten, his nails digging into his palms where his fists had clenched.

  This can’t be good.

  But it confirms she was taken.

  Elara’s hand squeezed Naomi’s gently, her voice quiet but firm. “You are doing very well, Naomi.”

  The reassurance didn’t break the tension, but it softened it.

  “Remember that you are safe here with us,” she continued. “This is just like a dream.”

  Naomi swallowed. The worry in her face didn’t vanish, but something in her posture shifted—she squared her shoulders, a flicker of determination settling in.

  She gave a little nod.

  And then, with the smallest furrow of her brow, she whispered—

  “I’m going to go find Vita.”

  Del glanced at Paolo.

  Paolo looked back.

  And in that silent exchange, both knew—

  It was exactly as they had feared.

  Del gave him a small, grim nod before turning back to the girl in Elara’s lap.

  And waited.

  Del exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay still. The air in the room felt thick, oppressive with tension.

  “What way is her thread going?” he asked, his voice deliberately low.

  Elara flashed him a look, a silent warning not to interrupt and risk disturbing Naomi’s fragile connection.

  Naomi, however, responded without hesitation, her voice steady.

  “It’s going into the woods. East. Towards the woods that way.”

  Del’s eyes flicked to Paolo, questioning.

  “The only thing out that way is the old quarry,” Paolo murmured, his brow furrowing. “But that hasn’t been used for generations.” A pause. “Beyond that, it’s just wildlands till you get to the Dwarven mountains.”

  A quarry. That triggered a memory, someone had mentioned seeing lights flickering near the old quarry

  ‘‘Is is related?’ Del didn’t like that idea.

  ‘Too many places to hide. Too many places to fall. Too many places to bury things.’

  Elara’s voice remained calm, guiding Naomi. “Does it follow a path at all?”

  Naomi’s expression shifted slightly, as if considering. Then, a small, almost triumphant smile.

  “Yes, it follows it.”

  Elara gave her a reassuring nod. “Alright, Naomi. I want you to follow Vita’s thread, but do it carefully and slowly. Tell us anything you see that’s odd, but try not to lose sight of it.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, her voice firmer now, but there was a slight tremor beneath the resolve.

  The tension in the room was suffocating.

  Del’s hands curled into fists, resting on his thighs. His body was rigid, every muscle held taut like a coiled spring. This was torture. They were relying on the words of a child to paint them a picture of something they couldn’t see, couldn’t react to, couldn’t fight.

  It was a helpless, useless feeling, and Del hated it.

  ‘It’s like listening to a badly directed radio play.’

  He grumbled internally, jaw clenched.

  ‘Too many breaks in dialogue and no sound effects.’

  A slow exhale. His fingers twitched with the urge to do something—to act—but there was nowhere to go, nothing to chase.

  All they could do was wait.

  And hope.

  Seconds stretched like hours. The air felt thick, charged with something unseen, like a storm waiting to break. Each heartbeat echoed loud in the silence.

  Then—

  “There are rocks ahead,” Naomi murmured suddenly, her words slicing through the stillness like a blade. “And a hole in the ground.”

  Del straightened, instinct prickling at the back of his neck.

  “That must be the quarry,” Elara told her, her voice steady, though Del caught the faint shift in her posture, the flicker of concern just beneath the surface.

  “Can you see anything there?”

  Naomi’s small head moved slightly, scanning. A moment’s hesitation. Then, a tiny shake.

  “Not from here… but the thread goes into the hole.” A pause. “It goes down. Down to the bottom.”

  A deep breath.

  “This place feels bad.”

  The words sent a slow chill creeping up Del’s spine. Of course it did.

  Elara’s fingers squeezed Naomi’s gently, an anchor against the weight of what she was seeing. “You don’t have to go further if you don’t want to.”

  Naomi’s lips pressed into a firm line. A small but deliberate shake of her head.

  “No,” she said, her voice small but unyielding. “I have to find Vita.”

  Del swallowed hard, his throat tight. She was braver than most grown men he knew.

  Naomi’s breath hitched slightly. “I’m at the bottom,” she continued, her fingers curling in Elara’s hand. Though her body remained still, Del could feel it—the way she must be standing there, small and fragile at the base of something vast, something hollow.

  “There’s a tunnel. I’m going to look.”

  Elara’s voice was quiet, but rich with warmth. “You are being very brave.”

  Naomi didn’t respond right away.

  The silence between her breaths stretched.

  “It’s dark in here.” A slight pause. “But… I can still see.”

  A flicker of confusion passed over her face.

  “I can’t normally see in the dark.”

  “That’s because you’re in the astral,” Elara explained. “It has its own sort of light, or so I’ve been told.”

  Naomi nodded slightly, absorbing that. Then—

  “I can still see her thread,” she murmured, but her tone had changed. The words slowed, like she was seeing something she didn’t quite understand. “There are a lot of other blue threads here, too.”

  A small, sharp intake of breath.

  “But the black one is bigger.”

  A hesitation.

  “Stronger.”

  A gulp.

  “Meaner.”

  Del’s breath stalled.

  A strange pressure crept into his chest, curling low in his ribs.

  ‘Not good. Not good at all.’

  Even without seeing her, he could feel the moment Naomi gathered up her courage, steeling herself before pressing forward.

  A slow exhale.

  “I can see lights up ahead.”

  A pause.

  “Like torches.”

  A flicker of hope stirred in Del’s chest. If there were lights, there were people.

  But then Naomi’s expression changed.

  The tiny shift in her breathing. The way her fingers tensed, just slightly, against Elara’s.

  “Someone is crying.”

  Barely above a whisper.

  Her grip tightened.

  “I can hear someone crying.”

  Del’s stomach knotted. A deep, curling unease settled over him.

  Paolo’s fingers twitched where they rested on his knee.

  Elara stroked Naomi’s hand, her voice low, calm. “You’re doing so well, Naomi.”

  But Naomi’s grip didn’t loosen.

  If anything, it tightened.

  “I’m going to go see.”

  Silence.

  The kind of silence that hurt.

  The kind that pressed against your ribs, tight and suffocating.

  The kind that felt like something was waiting.

  Watching.

  They all waited, breath held, frozen in place.

  A child, wandering the dark, searching for answers only she could se

  Then—

  A strangled gasp.

  Naomi’s tiny body jolted.

  A scream ripped from her throat, sharp and raw, slicing through the thick air like a blade.

  She bolted upright, her small frame twisting as if trying to escape something unseen, and in the same breath, she spun round and threw herself into Elara’s arms, gripping her in a desperate, terrified hug.

  Her entire body trembled violently.

  Her breath came in sharp, ragged sobs.

  The words that tumbled from her lips sent an ice-cold shudder through Del’s spine.

  “The Night Man… He saw me!”

  Then—

  Her body slumped.

  She went limp against Elara, her breath shuddering once before fading into the eerie stillness of unconsciousness.