Captain Aldric Thornwood crouched at the edge of Holdin's cabin before sunrise, scanning the trees for any blue glint. He had one goal that mattered: keep the village safe and name the right successor before the swarm grew worse. He had been watching Matthew Ashford for weeks now, though he had not said so yet. Near the cabin wall sat the small jar he had left out two nights ago. Blue powder had gathered at the bottom, and tiny feather marks pressed against the glass. The swarm had come back. They wanted something here. Aldric climbed the ladder of the screened shed he had built for watching. From the slatted walls he could see the whole clearing. He set the woven copper cage on the rail, baited with a strip of honeycomb, and waited. Matthew came up the ladder behind him, quiet as always. Aldric glanced down at the younger man's hands on the rung. They shook, just a little. Good. "You see that powder on the jar?" Aldric asked. Matthew nodded. "Sugar draws them. Honey draws them more. They are nesting in the hollow oaks past the ridge." A blue shape darted from the trees and struck the copper cage. Then another. Within a breath the small trap was full, wings beating against the beads. Matthew lunged forward and clamped the lid shut. Aldric watched his hands the whole time. Steady enough. Honest enough. "We burn the hollows at dusk," Aldric said. He turned to Matthew. "And when this is done, you take the captain's seat. I have decided." Matthew did not smile. He only nodded once. The swarm's nest was known now. But the burning had not yet begun, and the rest of the hive was still out there in the dark trees, waiting.

After the cage was sealed, Aldric followed Matthew down the ridge toward the hollow he claimed to have scouted. Something in the younger man's pace was off. Too quick. Too eager to lead. The cave sat behind a wall of thick green bushes, leaves pressed tight against the stone. Aldric frowned. Dry brush like that, packed against a cave they meant to smoke out, would catch fire in a heartbeat. Matthew had not mentioned it. A captain should have. Aldric stepped sideways to study the ground. Crushed berries marked the dirt in a scattered line, red and blue smeared under small boot prints. The trail did not lead to the cave. It bent the other way, toward a low wooden hatch half buried in the slope. He walked to it. A heavy padlock hung from the iron loop, its shackle worn smooth by hands that opened it often. Not rusted shut. Used. Whatever sat below had been visited, and recently. "Captain." Matthew's voice came from behind him, steady as ever. "The cave is this way. We are losing light." Aldric did not turn at once. He looked at the lock, then at the berry trail, then at the man he had named his successor that very morning. He stepped back from the hatch and followed Matthew toward the bushes. He said nothing about the cellar. But he had seen it. And now he knew his successor was keeping a door closed against him.

Back in the main living quarters, Aldric set his pack on the table and turned the day over in his mind. The main hive still festered in the forest. If it swarmed before he untangled Matthew's lie, the village would burn. He needed a plan before dawn. A paper pinned near the door caught his eye. A warning poster, crude and loud, claiming the fairy had moved to another village. The ink was fresh. The words bent wrong, like a hand rushing to be believed. Aldric pulled it down and held it to the lamp. "Matthew." His voice was flat. "Where did this come from?" Matthew looked up from the iron stove, calm as still water. "A traveler must have pinned it. They pass through." One sentence. Then he turned back to the kettle. Aldric watched his hands. Steady. Too steady. Aldric crossed to Matthew's coat on the chair. He lifted it. Something heavy shifted in the inner pocket. He drew out a small leather pouch and spilled it open on the wood. River stones tumbled free, each carved with notches and dates — paths, years, a map of a life walked through these woods long before Matthew claimed to be new to them. Aldric set the stones in a row. The lie had a shape now. The hive could wait until morning. The cellar could not.