The holding cells were almost empty of guards, much to both of their surprise.
Ryn slowed as they reached the corridor, boots echoing faintly against the damp stone. The alarms outside had faded into distant noise, reduced to a dull hum that barely reached this far in.
Lanterns burned steadily along the walls.
No sign that anything had gone wrong.
"This doesn't make sense," Fritz murmured.
Ryn didn't answer.
He eased open the nearby door to what should have been a guard office, expecting empty desks—
—and nearly caught a blade to the throat.
Mira froze an inch from striking.
Ryn didn't flinch.
Her eyes widened in recognition, relief flickering across her face before she pulled back.
"Sorry," she breathed.
Ryn shut the door behind him without a sound.
"Mira," he said quietly. "Why didn't you—"
"I know," she cut in.
That stopped him.
She turned fully now, eyes steady.
"I couldn't leave them here," she said. "Not like this."
Ryn frowned. "Who?"
Mira didn't answer.
