Chapter 11: The Hollow Court's Price

The white flower pulsed in Yan's hand like a second heartbeat, its petals glowing faintly in the gathering dark. He could feel the Hollow Folk watching him from the treeline, their empty eyes fixed on his hand, on the bloom, on the merest whisper of its light. The leader had not moved from his spot, but the air around him had shifted, settling into something older and more patient than stone.