The clinic in Leh was a modest building of whitewashed stone, its windows looking out onto the stark Himalayan landscape. Silas sat in a plastic chair beside Clara’s bed, his eyes fixed on the slow rise and fall of her chest. The doctors had cleaned and stitched her wound, administered antibiotics and painkillers, and assured him she would make a full recovery. But the sight of her pale face, the bandages wrapped around her shoulder, sent a cold rage simmering through his veins. The door opened softly, and Marcus Chen stepped inside, his face drawn with exhaustion. “She’s stable. The doctor says she’ll wake in a few hours.” Silas nodded, not taking his eyes off Clara. “Any word from Priya?” “Intermittent. The satellite connection is still spotty, but she managed to get a message through. She’s been digging into the financial transfers Harper documented. She’s found a pattern—payments from a shell company in Cyprus to a numbered account in Zurich. The account is controlled by a holding firm that traces back to one of Viktor Volkov’s known aliases.” “So Viktor is funding someone inside the foundation.” “It looks that way. But Priya hasn’t been able to identify the recipient yet. The money trail goes through too many layers.” Silas finally turned, his eyes meeting Marcus’s. “Harper and Finch are still in custody?” “Yes. Separate locations, as you ordered. Harper’s been cooperative, but her alibi is still unverified. Finch is insisting he was framed, and his keycard logs do show he was in his office at the time of the data breach Priya identified.” “Which means either his keycard was cloned, or he’s lying.” “Or there’s a third party we haven’t considered.” Silas rubbed his temples, the circular scar on his finger a constant reminder of what he had sacrificed. “Keep Priya on it. Tell her to focus on the Zurich account. If we can trace the money to a specific individual, we’ll have our mole.” Marcus nodded and left, closing the door quietly behind him. Silas sat in silence, the hum of the clinic’s equipment the only sound. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the obsidian shard from the Cloisters, the one he had taken before the Arctic expedition. It was cool against his palm, its surface smooth and unblemished. He had almost forgotten he had it, but now it seemed to pulse with a faint warmth, a connection to the watcher’s memory that still lingered in his blood. “You’re still carrying that.” The voice was weak but steady. Silas looked up to find Clara’s eyes open, her gaze fixed on the shard. She tried to sit up, winced, and sank back into the pillows. “Don’t move,” Silas said, leaning forward. “You need to rest.” “I’ve been resting for hours. I’m tired of resting.” She gestured weakly at the shard. “Why do you still have that?” “I don’t know. I kept it as a reminder. Of what we’re fighting against.” “Or what you’re still connected to.” He met her eyes, seeing the understanding there. She knew him better than most, had seen the darkness he carried and had not flinched. “Tenzin mentioned a place. The Seat of the Unseen. A monastery in the Kunlun Mountains where the Bon sages who first bound the watcher are said to dwell. If anyone can sever the watcher’s echo from me, it’s them.” “Then that’s where we go next.” “You’re not going anywhere. You need to recover.” “I’m not letting you face this alone, Silas. We’re in this together.” He wanted to argue, but the determination in her eyes stopped him. She had nearly died for him, had stepped in front of a bolt of dark energy meant for his chest. She had earned the right to choose her own path. “We’ll talk about it when you’re stronger,” he said finally. Clara smiled, a faint, exhausted thing. “That’s not a no.” “No. It’s not.” She closed her eyes, her breathing evening out as sleep reclaimed her. Silas watched her for a long moment, then stood and walked to the window. The sun was setting, painting the peaks in shades of gold and crimson. Somewhere beyond those mountains, the Seat of the Unseen waited. And somewhere else, Cordelia and Viktor were plotting their next move. His phone buzzed. A message from Sarah Cole: *We have a situation. Meet me in the courtyard.* Silas pocketed the shard and left the room, his footsteps echoing in the narrow hallway. The clinic was quiet, the few staff members moving with practiced efficiency. He stepped out into the courtyard, where Sarah stood with two of her team members, their expressions grim. “What is it?” Silas asked. “We picked up a signal on the satellite feed. A vehicle convoy, moving through the Kunlun foothills. At least four vehicles, heavily armored.” “Viktor?” “Has to be. He’s heading toward the same region Tenzin described for the Seat of the Unseen.” Silas’s jaw tightened. “He knows about the monastery.” “It seems so. Cordelia must have told him before she vanished. They’re trying to get there first, to secure whatever knowledge the sages have.” “Then we need to move faster.” “That’s the problem. Clara can’t travel for at least another forty-eight hours. The doctors are firm on that. And even if we leave without her, we’re looking at a week-long trek through some of the most hostile terrain on the planet.” “Then we split the team. Marcus stays with Clara and coordinates from here. You and your best people come with me. Tenzin will guide us.” Sarah studied him, her eyes sharp. “You’re sure about this?” “I’ve never been more sure of anything. If Viktor reaches the Seat of the Unseen before us, he’ll have access to knowledge that could permanently destabilize the thresholds. We can’t let that happen.” “Then we leave at dawn. I’ll have my team ready.” Silas nodded, turning back toward the clinic. Before he could re-enter, Tenzin emerged from the shadows, his staff planted in the ground. The former monk’s face was unreadable, his eyes ancient. “You are planning to journey to the Seat of the Unseen,” Tenzin said. It was not a question. “Yes.” “The path is dangerous. The sages do not suffer fools or the unworthy. If you approach with violence in your heart, they will turn you away.” “I’m not going there to fight. I’m going there to learn.” “And Viktor?” “If he gets in my way, I’ll deal with him.” Tenzin was silent for a long moment. Then he said, “There is another matter you should know. The Seat of the Unseen is not just a monastery. It is a threshold itself—the oldest and most powerful of them all. It was the first point of entry for the watcher into our world, and it was the place where the Bon priests built their prison.” Silas felt a chill run down his spine. “You’re saying the Seat of the Unseen is connected to the watcher.” “It is the watcher’s birthplace in this world. The sages do not merely guard knowledge—they guard a door. If Viktor opens that door, the watcher’s memory will have a direct path back into reality. The Lake of the Moon was a wound. The Seat of the Unseen is the heart.” “Then we can’t let Viktor get there.” “No. But you must also be careful. The door will recognize you, Silas. You carry the watcher’s echo. It will try to use you, to draw you in. You must resist.” Silas met Tenzin’s gaze, feeling the weight of the words settle on his shoulders. “I’ve been resisting the watcher since the day I put on that ring. I’m not about to stop now.” “Good.” Tenzin inclined his head. “I will prepare supplies for the journey. We leave at dawn.” The former monk turned and walked away, his staff tapping a steady rhythm against the stone. Silas watched him go, then looked up at the mountains, at the peaks that hid the Seat of the Unseen. Somewhere out there, Viktor Volkov was moving toward the same destination. Cordelia was waiting in the shadows. And the watcher’s echo pulsed in Silas’s blood, a constant reminder of the bond he could not break. But he would find a way. He had to. He returned to Clara’s room, settling into the chair beside her bed. She was still asleep, her face peaceful in the dim light. He reached out and took her hand, her fingers warm against his. “I’ll come back,” he whispered. “I promise.” He didn’t know if she could hear him. But the words felt like a vow, a thread of hope in the darkness. The war was not over. But Silas Aethelred would not stop fighting. Not until the last threshold was sealed. Not until the watcher was silenced forever. And not until he found a way to honor the sacrifices of those he had lost. The Seat of the Unseen waited. And he would answer its call.