The heavy oak door of the subterranean chamber swung inward before Barnaby could cross the threshold.
Sera Thorne stepped into the cavern first, her iron boots clacking against the granite pavers. Her silver armor was dusted with basalt soot, and the Tier 8 Storm-Pike rested across her shoulder like a casual walking stick.
Behind her came Claire Vance, tucking a golden ledger under her arm, followed by Mina Vance, whose azure skirts fluttered with a faint trace of residual frost.
“You called for us, my son?” Claire asked, pushing her silver-rimmed spectacles up her nose.
Kaelen leaned against the alchemical table, holding a small cedar tray. Resting on the tray were twelve golden spheres, each the size of a pigeon egg, pulsing with five concentric silver cloud-veins.
The fragrance of mountain pine and sun-ripened peaches washed over the three women.
Sera froze in mid-stride. Her gray eyes locked onto the glowing spheres, her pupils dilating as the ambient medicinal mist brushed against her cheeks.
“Are those...” Sera whispered, her voice dropping into stunned silence.
