Chapter 7 Serpent's Bite

Chapter 7 – Serpent's Bite

Night in Greywood wasn't quiet.

The city breathed after dark. Whispers and screams, deals made in alleys, violence traded like currency. The shadows didn't sleep-they watched, listened, waited.

And tonight, they watched Isaac Marshall walk through them like he belonged.

He wore a black hoodie, blood still crusted on his sleeves. The card with the serpent glowed faintly in his pocket, a compass drawn in blood and fury. Every time it pulsed, he turned. It wasn't leading him to revenge just yet.

First, it was leading him to answers.

The place it guided him to looked like nothing special-just a crumbling parking garage on the edge of Thorn Market. Tag-covered concrete. Flickering overhead light. Puddles reflecting red and gold graffiti.

But the moment he stepped inside, he felt it.

Power.

Old. Thin. Twisting like smoke through the air.

Someone was hiding it well-but not from him.

He followed the scent.

Down the levels. Past a dead generator. Around a rusted van that hadn't moved in years.

And then-

A voice.

"Thought you'd be taller."

Isaac stopped cold.

A man stepped out from behind a pillar. Bald. Scar across his neck. Metal rings in both ears, eyes like mismatched marbles-one brown, one blue. His coat was lined with runes, the kind that shimmered when he moved.

"You're Marshall's boy," the man said.

Isaac's jaw clenched. "And you are?"

"Name's Riker. I knew your father. Knew what he was. And now I see it in you."

"You're the second person to say that in two days," Isaac said. "Getting tired of the mystery."

Riker grinned, but it didn't touch his eyes. "Good. That'll keep you angry. And angry keeps you alive."

Isaac stepped closer. "I'm not here for philosophy. I'm here because someone came into my place, stabbed my best friend, and left her to die. You know who?"

"Not yet," Riker said. "But I know who will."

He pointed at a door hidden behind stacked tires.

"Her name's Sura. She runs info for the Black Vein. Nothing moves in Greywood without passing her ears."

Isaac moved to the door, but Riker caught his arm.

"She won't talk for free," he said. "And she doesn't like Serpent-blood."

Isaac's eyes flashed gold for a split second. "I'm not asking."

The room beyond the door was cold. Incense. Chalk lines. Runes on the walls. Candles burning black flames.

And in the center, a woman sat in a suspended chair, her feet not touching the floor.

Dark robes. Gold-threaded veil. A dozen needles piercing her arms like jewelry. She opened her mouth before he could speak.

"Isaac Marshall."

He froze. "You know me?"

"I know everything that bleeds in this city. Sit."

He didn't.

She chuckled. "Your blood hums, boy. You burned gold recently. Let me guess-the Archivist gave you a taste?"

Isaac said nothing.

She smiled. "He moves fast. Desperate times."

"I want names," Isaac said. "Who sent the blade into my apartment?"

"That depends. Do you want the name of the hand that held it... or the one that ordered it?"

Isaac's voice was low. "Both."

Sura leaned forward, her veil shimmering.

"Then you'll owe me."

"I already owe someone," he growled. "Not in the mood to keep a tab running."

Sura reached into the shadows and pulled out a thin stone tablet etched in red. She ran a finger across it, murmured something under her breath.

A shape bloomed across the stone.

A symbol.

A sigil of a cracked moon and two blades.

Isaac didn't recognize it-but the blood in his veins did.

It flared.

Violent. Hot. Hungry.

"The one who sent the blade," Sura whispered, "belongs to the Lunecarve Guild. Assassins. Magi-trained. Not freelancers-contracted. Someone paid them to hurt you. Or to warn you."

Isaac's hands curled into fists. "Who paid them?"

"I don't know."

"You just said you know everything."

Sura's veil tilted. "I know a lot. But the Lunecarve don't write names-they trade in favors and silence. If you want the client, you'll need to go to them directly."

"Where?"

Sura leaned back into the shadows. "Their nest is beneath the Crescent Terminal. Third rail. Old subway line. You'll know it when the rats stop following you."

Isaac turned to leave, but Sura spoke again.

"One more thing, boy."

He stopped.

"Your father made enemies on all sides. But the one who hated him most... was once his closest brother. If you want revenge-look for the serpent that wears a man's skin."

As Isaac stepped back into the night, the air felt charged.

His veins hummed. His senses sharpened. He was walking deeper into the world now-where names were weapons and silence could kill. The Lunecarve would have answers. And he would carve the truth from them if he had to.

The fire in his chest wasn't fading.

It was growing.

Maya bled for his secret.

Someone was going to bleed for that.