Lyra pressed her fingertips to the stone tablet, tracing the symbols one more time. The blood had stopped, but her head still throbbed. She needed to understand what the vision had given her before it faded completely. The pattern she'd seen — three symbols that curved into each other, repeating across the surface — meant something. She was certain now. This wasn't random. Someone had carved a message her people were meant to decode. She turned toward the door. The shimmering veil she'd hung there yesterday still rippled in place, undisturbed. No one had come. No one knew yet. But the visions were getting stronger, and that meant she was close. Too close to stop now, even if the next one split her skull open. She grabbed the staff and wiped the last streak of blood from the crystal. The rose quartz felt warm against her palm. Lyra moved back to the stone and positioned the lamp directly overhead. The moss along the edges had grown thicker since she'd brought the tablet here. She brushed it aside with one hand, revealing more symbols underneath. Her breath caught. There were more carvings than she'd realized. Lines connecting one set of symbols to another. Not just a text. A map. Or instructions. Something that required order. She sat down hard on the floor, staff across her knees. Her hands trembled as she pulled out a writing cloth and began sketching the pattern she'd seen during the vision. The symbols flowed from memory this time, not guesswork. She could hold them now. Whatever the visions were doing to her, they were working. She was finally reading the text. And there would be no going back.