Mina hung the linen dishcloth over the wooden pump, turning toward Kaelen with wide, serious eyes.
“The Sky-Bridge?” Mina asked, wiping a stray drop of water from her wrist. “Is it time?”
“The Ghost Market was an underground ditch,” Kaelen said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe. “The Sky-Bridge is where the real silver changes hands. But before we pack our teapots, you need another layer of ice in your dantian.”
He reached into his robe and set three small porcelain flasks onto the scrubbed pine table.
Beside them, he dropped two heavy canvas sacks that landed with a dense, crystalline clatter.
Mina stepped closer, her breath catching as she unstoppered the first flask.
A sharp, winter chill poured from the neck of the bottle, coating the rim with fine white rime. Inside lay three spherical pills, translucent as glacial ice and wrapped in nine swirling bands of violet cloud-veins.
Tier 4 Cloud-Veined Supreme Frost-Lotus Pills.
