Dawn broke cold over Pit Town as Dusk Solace left Grimoire Black for the last time this month. His bone staff tapped against cobblestone with each step. The wide-brimmed hat kept shadows across his glowing blue eye. Two days of hard walking stretched ahead, but the lead on the Revolving Omnibus Portent was solid. Real descriptions. Real details. The kind that came from someone who'd actually seen Zealous Eldritch's cursed tome. He adjusted his pack and headed for the town's edge, leaving the skeletal library and its ghost-filled halls behind. Three blocks from the gate, a black tent caught his attention. The Scryers Club stood in the open square, its fabric walls moving without wind. Shadow-clerics ran the stand, their faces hidden behind grey veils. Dusk approached and studied the board covered in parchment scraps. Warnings, bounties, and riddles covered the surface. His eye stopped on a water-stained note in the corner. "Eldritch's book seen heading north. Three witnesses. Payment required for names." His gloved hand traced the words. This was why he came to Pit Town every month. The shadow-clerics collected secrets that no library would touch. He pulled a silver coin from his coat and placed it on the counter. A veiled figure nodded and handed him a sealed envelope. North it was. Before leaving, Dusk set down three artifacts he'd collected last week. The shadow-cleric gestured to a platform scale mounted on the counter. The Fae Finger Scale sat there, built from a Crypt Troll's skull, decorated with gold and moonstone. Pixie wing dust covered the bone surface. Dusk placed each item on the scale and watched the skull's jaw move. The first two artifacts showed no reaction. The third made the jaw snap shut. Magic. Dark magic. The cleric pointed north again and drew a circle on Dusk's map. The Revolving Omnibus Portent was close now. Closer than it had been in three years of searching. Dusk wrapped the artifacts, pocketed the map, and walked toward the town gate. Every clue brought him nearer to Zealous Eldritch's forbidden tome. The gate guards stepped aside without a word. They knew him by now. Once a month he left. Once a month he returned. His glowing eye marked him as something other than human, and they didn't question it. Dusk stepped through the archway and onto the dirt road beyond. The hunt continued. Three years of following dead ends and false leads had taught him patience. But this time felt different. The witnesses were real. The artifacts confirmed it. Somewhere north, in a place he'd never searched before, the Revolving Omnibus Portent waited. He gripped his bone staff tighter and walked into the morning light.