Balodi Prison was infamous across human society in the Endless Sea. Built in the Royal Capital, it had always been meant for one class of inmate: political prisoners.
Right now, both Red Falcon and Mr. Warner were held inside.
The Stranger in the Shadows had given Morningstar a mission in the capital—investigate the Nightmare Coins. Morningstar’s instinct was that the coins and the royal court were connected. And since the Crown Prince had personally moved against Red Falcon, Red Falcon was the best pressure point they were going to get.
So whether for duty or for friendship, she was going to see him.
The prison rose as a black compound behind high walls. Wards—visible and unseen—wrapped the place like iron wire.
They were questioned. Delayed. Questioned again. Morningstar greased palms as needed.
At last, after a long walk through lightless corridors and the quiet sacrifice of two more gold coins, they were granted a private conversation.
Red Falcon peered through the iron bars, torchlight flickering across his gaunt face. His eyes widened.
“You…? By the God of Holy Judgment—Morningstar?”
Morningstar leaned in. “Keep your voice down. Can you talk?”
“I can,” Red Falcon said, then swallowed. “But I still don’t understand why I’m here.”
Ethan felt it too, through the subtle link of minds: Red Falcon genuinely didn’t know what he’d done.
“It could be the Crown Prince using you to warn the Earth Ring,” Red Falcon said, forcing logic onto chaos. “The Earth Ring obeyed the old king. The old king is gone. The Crown Prince needs his own people.”
Morningstar asked about changes in the Golden Sea Beast Palace—anything strange.
Red Falcon rubbed his forehead. “I can’t be sure. After the old king died, everything shifted. I’ve heard rumors the Crown Prince barely appears anymore. He refuses most audiences and rules through a tight circle of ministers.”
“But the night I was arrested, I did see him. He invited me to the Hall of Nobles… and it was a trap. He ordered my arrest on the spot.”
Red Falcon’s voice went tight. “The worst part? I felt it. He wanted me dead. Not politically removed—dead.”
“We have no history. No feud. I’ve never given him cause.” He laughed once, hollow. “And yet he looked at me like I was prey.”
He stared at the damp stone behind Ethan as if it might answer for him. “Then something changed. He didn’t kill me. He just put me here. No charges. No trial. Nothing.”
Morningstar’s jaw clenched. “I’ll get you out.”
Red Falcon’s smile was bitter. “It’s nearly impossible. Unless you can get your Stranger in the Shadows to show up in person.”
Morningstar shot back, “And why don’t you pray to your God of Holy Judgment?”
“I did. Didn’t help,” Red Falcon said, and the weariness turned sharp. “These Seven Gods… when it matters, they vanish. Hell, maybe they never show up at all.”
Morningstar’s expression darkened. Her faith was steadier than ever these days. “Don’t say that.”
Ethan waited until the tension eased, then asked what he cared about most. “Red Falcon—do you know where Amm is?”
Red Falcon blinked. “Mr. Klaus, you know Amm?”
He shook his head. “Amm’s been gone for a while. I don’t know where he went. If the Crown Prince is purging the old king’s people, Amm could have been taken too.”
Footsteps echoed in the corridor. The visiting window was closing.
Morningstar pressed closer, urgent. “We’re about to be escorted out. Is there anything you need me to do?”
“Yes.” Red Falcon stepped to the bars. His voice dropped to a rasp. “Find my aunt and uncle. Get them out of the capital—fast. They live outside the city, North Valley Town, Granary Street, Number 18. I won’t have them caught in this.”
Morningstar didn’t hesitate. “Done. I’ll go now.”
They left Balodi behind and stepped into pale sunlight. Morningstar hired a carriage immediately.
On the ride, she told Ethan the pieces of Red Falcon’s life she knew: a commoner orphaned young, raised by his aunt and uncle, later awakened as an extraordinary transcendent and climbed into the Earth Ring. He sent money, wrote letters, tried to repay the only family he had.
Ethan listened, quiet. In this era, everyone carried a private disaster in their ribs.
They reached North Valley Town’s Granary Street, got down, and started counting doorplates.
Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve…
They walked the street twice.
There was no Number 18.