Moriath has one job: get in, get the prize, get out, and clear the debt that has Seska’s hand around his throat. He brings a small crew to a ruined Kandarran lodge half-swallowed by forest, sealed shut, and whispered about the way places are when no one sensible will go near them.

The deeper they push, the more the crew’s brittle loyalties start to show. Old faith, old politics, old war, old crimes; none of it stays buried for long when the walls will not hold still.