Salt Fell's deeper veins did not announce themselves.
They slipped open one breath at a time… narrow seams in the city's body where stone leaned inward, and light didn't know how to linger. Ji Ming led without hesitation, choosing routes that bent oddly, corridors that refused straight lines, stairways that descended only to rise again two turns later.
Courier paths.
Places built for messages that did not want to be read.
Sol followed with the Mirrorborn close at her side. Its steps were quieter now, more measured. The glow beneath its skin had dimmed to something almost human… a warmth rather than a flare.
Ya Zhen brought up the rear, teeth clenched against pain, one hand brushing the walls as she moved. Her fingers traced sigils without marking them, memorizing routes even as she passed.
"Division scouts won't take these paths at first," she murmured. "They hate uncertainty."
"They'll adapt," Ji Ming replied. "They always do."
"Yes," Ya Zhen said dryly. "But they'll complain about it first."
Sol almost smiled.
The air grew denser as they descended, heavy with vaporized salt that stung the back of her throat. Unlike the basin above, this part of Salt Fell felt compressed, the city folding inward on itself. Walls glistened faintly, damp not with water, but with memory of it.
She steadied her breathing.
The Mirrorborn glanced up at her.
"…hurts?" it asked.
"A little," she admitted. "But it's manageable."
It nodded solemnly, as if storing the answer away. Then, without prompting, it shifted closer, its presence subtly dampening the edge of her resonance. The ache eased.
Ji Ming noticed immediately. "You're shielding her."
The Mirrorborn hesitated. "…too loud… before…"
"That's all right," Sol said gently. "You're learning."
"…learning…" it echoed, the word still careful in its mouth.
They moved on.
They reached a narrow junction where three corridors intersected, each marked with faint, nearly invisible etchings. Ji Ming slowed, crouching to examine the stone.
"Here," he said quietly. "They've been through already."
Sol's pulse jumped. "The Inquisitor?"
"No," Ya Zhen answered, kneeling with a grimace beside him. "These are Division markers. Scouting glyphs. Light-touch, no resonance flare. They're being careful."
"How long ago?" Sol asked.
Ya Zhen pressed her fingers to one sigil, eyes narrowing. "Less than an hour."
Ji Ming straightened, shoulders tightening. "They're fanning out."
Sol closed her eyes briefly. The city's quiet pressed close around her, but beneath it she felt something else now… a distant stirring, like a held breath finally being released.
"They know we're still in Salt Fell," she said. "But not where."
Ya Zhen rose unsteadily. "Which means the city is still helping."
As if in answer, the corridor to their left shuddered faintly. A hairline crack split the salt-crusted floor, widening just enough to break any clean reflection.
Ji Ming glanced at it, then at Sol. "It's steering us."
"Yes," she whispered. "But not the way the mountain did."
"How so?" Ya Zhen asked.
"The mountain offered shelter," Sol said. "The city offers confusion."
The Mirrorborn shifted, watching the crack with quiet focus.
"…city… hides…" it said.
Ji Ming nodded once. "Then we follow."
They took the left corridor, winding deeper until the air grew thick enough to taste metallic. Sol's steps slowed as fatigue finally began to creep in… not physical exhaustion, but the deeper weariness that came from holding herself carefully, keeping her resonance from flaring.
Ji Ming felt it through the bond.
"Lean on me," he said quietly, offering his arm.
She hesitated only a heartbeat before taking it. The contact steadied her, warmth spreading in a controlled, familiar way.
Ya Zhen eyed them sidelong. "You realize that if the Division catches even a whisper of that bond—"
"They won't," Sol said. "Not right now."
"How can you be sure?"
She glanced at the Mirrorborn, who walked with head bowed, glow subdued.
"It's keeping us quiet," Sol said softly. "Not invisible. Just… uninteresting."
The Mirrorborn looked up at the word, puzzled.
"…boring…?" it asked.
Ya Zhen snorted. "Oh, sweetheart. If you can make us boring to the Empire, I'll build you a shrine."
The Mirrorborn considered this, then nodded once, satisfied.
Ji Ming shook his head faintly, but there was a hint of fondness in his eyes.
They reached a wider passage where the ceiling arched high enough for broken beams to crisscross overhead. Old lantern hooks jutted from the walls, empty and corroded. In the center, a dry canal cut through the stone floor, its edges worn smooth by centuries of water that no longer flowed.
Sol slowed.
Something tugged at her awareness… not the sharp pull of the Mirror, but a gentler insistence. She knelt by the canal's edge, pressing her palm to the stone.
The city answered.
Not with words.
With feeling.
A ripple passed through the canal bed, like a memory surfacing. For a moment, Sol saw it as it once was… water gliding through the channel, lantern light trembling across its surface, voices layered and alive.
Her breath caught.
Ji Ming's hand tightened on her shoulder. "What is it?"
"The city remembers this place," she said quietly. "It wants us to stop."
Ya Zhen frowned. "That's not comforting."
"No," Sol agreed. "But it might be useful."
She closed her eyes, letting her qi sink downward, gentle and unassertive. She didn't command. She didn't ask.
She listened.
The stone warmed beneath her palm.
A subtle shift ran through the passage as salt crystals loosened and fell, roughening surfaces, breaking angles. The canal bed dulled, its smoothness clouded.
Ji Ming felt it immediately. "Reflections are degrading."
"Yes," Sol said. "The city is blurring itself."
Ya Zhen's lips curved in a sharp smile. "Good. Let them try to map that."
Behind them, far off, a faint pulse echoed through the stone… resonance probing, searching.
The Division was close.
The Mirrorborn stiffened.
"…hungry… light…" it whispered, uneasy.
Sol rose quickly, cupping its shoulder. "You're doing well. Stay with us."
It nodded, though its glow flickered faintly. "…stay…"
They moved again, faster now, following the canal until it vanished into a collapsed wall. Ji Ming vaulted the debris with practiced ease, then turned to help Sol across. Ya Zhen followed, teeth bared against pain but refusing assistance.
As Sol landed, a sharp resonance spike flared behind them.
Ji Ming swore under his breath. "They've locked onto us."
A voice echoed down the corridor… not the Inquisitor's, but colder in its uniformity.
"…Division unit deployed…"
"…containment perimeter forming…"
Ya Zhen hissed. "Multiple voices. They brought a net."
Sol's heart hammered. "We can't outrun that."
"No," Ji Ming said. "But we can disappear long enough."
The Mirrorborn suddenly pulled at Sol's sleeve, urgency brightening its dim light.
"…there… deep…" it said, pointing toward a narrow fissure in the wall, barely wide enough for a person to slip through.
Sol stared. "That's not a path."
"…was…" the Mirrorborn insisted. "…before… water…"
Ya Zhen's eyes widened. "An old overflow channel."
Ji Ming didn't hesitate. "Go. Now."
Sol squeezed through first, stone scraping her shoulders. The fissure widened slightly as she passed, the city yielding just enough. Ji Ming followed, then Ya Zhen, then finally the Mirrorborn, whose glow dimmed almost to nothing as it slipped inside.
The passage sealed behind them with a soft, grinding sigh.
Darkness fell.
Not oppressive… but thick, insulating.
They stood in it, breathing hard.
Outside, the Division's resonance net swept past, searching, failing to find purchase.
Minutes stretched.
Finally, Ya Zhen exhaled shakily. "I think… they lost us."
Ji Ming didn't relax yet. "For now."
Sol leaned back against the stone, heart still racing. "The city hid us."
"Yes," Ya Zhen said quietly. "And that means something."
The Mirrorborn sagged, light barely visible now.
"…tired…" it murmured.
Sol slid down beside it, gathering it carefully into her arms. "Rest. You've done enough."
It leaned into her, glow settling into a faint, steady pulse.
Ji Ming watched them, something thoughtful in his expression.
"They'll come again," he said softly. "With more force."
Sol met his gaze. "Then we keep moving. And learning."
Ya Zhen let out a low laugh. "The Empire's worst nightmare… a city that refuses to cooperate, a mirror that learns mercy, and two cultivators who won't stop choosing each other."
Sol closed her eyes, breathing in the quiet.
Somewhere above them, Salt Fell shifted, rearranging its bones.
And somewhere far beyond the city, the Empire began to understand that what it hunted was no longer running blindly.
It was adapting.