TWO OUTSIDERS, ONE TRAIL

We moved our search to the archive annex the next day, a smaller room tucked behind the main records hall that nobody seemed to use for anything except storing things people had forgotten they owned, which made it perfect for what we were doing.

"Okay," I said, pulling open another crate of ledgers. "Theory one. The unlisted healer was someone the elders deliberately left out because they did something during the Shadow Blight nobody wanted credited."

"Or theory two," Ren said, more carefully, flipping through a stack of his own. "Clerical error. Someone forgot to add a name to a list during chaos. It happens."

"Boring theory."

"Accurate theories are often boring."

"Not as fun though."

He huffed, the closest thing to a laugh he allowed himself when he was concentrating, and went back to scanning his pile while I went back to mine, which lasted about four minutes before I got excited over a name that turned out to be completely irrelevant and knocked an entire shelf of bound ledgers onto the floor trying to grab a second one too fast.

The crash echoed through the small room louder than it had any right to.

"Iris."

"I know."

"This is an archive."

"I know that too."

"Archives are supposed to be quiet."

"Then it's a good thing nobody's around to hear me ruin that." I crouched to gather the mess, and he came over to help, shaking his head the entire time like he couldn't decide whether to be exasperated or fond, landing somewhere in between the way he usually did with me.

We'd been at it maybe two hours when I noticed Zayen standing in the doorway, not saying anything, just watching the two of us hunched over crates with an expression I couldn't quite place. Something careful around his eyes, a little distant, like he was working out a math problem that didn't add up the way he wanted it to.

"You two have been disappearing a lot," he said when I caught him looking.

"We're chasing something," I said. "Come here, I'll show you."

He hesitated, just a beat, just long enough that I noticed it, before he crossed the room and crouched beside us. I didn't make a thing out of it, didn't ask him what that hesitation was about, just handed him a stack of ledgers and put him to work, because the easiest way to fix a feeling like that is to make sure nobody gets left standing outside the circle wondering if they belong in it.

"This is the name," I said, pointing it out for him. "Listed as present at the Shadow Blight site. Not in any official account either of us has read."

Zayen studied it, frowning. "I was there. I don't recognize this name."

"Neither did Ren."

"Ren wasn't there."

"I know. That's actually the whole point. He's not protecting anyone's version of the story, which means he's better at noticing the holes in it than the rest of us." I looked at Zayen, steady. "I want you in on this too. Properly. Not me and Ren figuring things out and telling you after. All three of us, together, no more keeping pieces from each other about the stuff that actually matters."

Something in his face eased at that, subtle but real, like a held breath finally let out. "Alright. Show me what else you've found."

We spent the next hour cross referencing names, and it was Ren who found the next thread, tracing the unlisted healer's name into a separate supply ledger from a different region entirely, dated months after the Shadow Blight, listing a small household relocating north under a name that wasn't quite his family's, but close, close enough that his hand had gone still on the page the second he saw it.

"Ren."

"It's probably nothing," he said quickly, too quickly. "Names overlap. It's a common enough sound."

"You don't believe that."

"I'm trying to."

I watched him stare at that name like it might disappear if he looked away, hope written all over him even while he tried to talk himself out of it, and I didn't push him to claim it as anything more than what it actually was, just circumstantial, a thread and not a rope. But I also wasn't going to pretend I didn't see exactly what it meant to him.

"We'll follow it," I said simply. "Slow, careful, no promises. But we follow it."

He nodded, throat working, and didn't say anything else, which told me more than words would have.

Zayen, watching the exchange, reached over and squeezed Ren's shoulder, brief and solid, the kind of gesture that didn't need explaining between the three of us anymore.

"This is good work," Zayen said, looking between the both of us. "All of it."

"See," I said. "Told you the boring documents pay off eventually."

"You told me nobody questions boring," Ren said. "Different claim."

"Same energy."

We were just starting to pack everything back into the crates, the night having gotten later than any of us had noticed, when a knock came at the archive door, polite but deliberate, the kind of knock that wasn't going to go away if we ignored it.

I exchanged a look with Ren, then with Zayen, and none of us moved fast enough before the door opened.

A man I didn't recognize stood in the frame, official robes pressed and proper, the kind of person whose entire presence announced he had a clipboard somewhere even when he wasn't holding one.

"Luna," he said, bowing slightly, eyes flicking over the open crates and scattered ledgers behind us. "I apologize for the late hour. I'm here on behalf of the records office. It's come to our attention that three years of supply logs were requisitioned under your name and a Lykora's, without an attached reason on file."

"Is that a problem," I asked, keeping my voice light.

"Not a problem, exactly," he said, in the careful tone of someone who absolutely thought it was a problem but wasn't allowed to say so directly. "Just unusual. We're required to log the purpose of any extended archive request. I'm simply here to ask what that purpose might be."

Behind me, I felt Zayen go very still, and Ren's hand brushed mine once, quick, grounding, like he was bracing for whatever I said next.

I smiled, easy, like none of this was strange at all. "Turnips."

The man blinked. "I'm sorry."

"Turnip storage records. I had questions about supply distribution."

He stared at me for a long moment, clearly unsure whether I was joking, while Ren made a small choked sound beside me that he disguised badly as clearing his throat.

"I'll just need that noted formally," the man said finally, pulling out a small ledger of his own. "For the file."

"Of course," I said. "Whatever you need."

He bowed again, scribbled something down, and left, the door clicking shut behind him, and the three of us stood there in silence for exactly two seconds before Ren let out a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan.

"Turnips," he said.

"It worked, didn't it."

"For now," Zayen said, glancing at the closed door, something sharper than amusement settling into his expression. "But someone's keeping track of what we're requesting. Which means someone else already knows we're looking."