Chapter 4: The Dark Bargain
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The night in Krakenstad was alive with the kind of silence that pressed against the skin like a heavy, damp blanket. The air was thick with the scent of salt and something older, something that clung to the back of the throat like the memory of a half-forgotten dream. Liz sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing the rough-hewn wood of the nightstand, the grain worn smooth by decades of use. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting long, wavering shadows that danced across the walls like restless spirits.
The wind outside howled through the cracks in the inn’s wooden beams, a low, mournful sound that matched the weight pressing against Liz’s chest. She sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers tracing the rough grain of the nightstand, her mind replaying the day’s events— the sinking ship, the monstrous kraken, the hollow-eyed villagers, and that unsettling magistrate Blackwood.
Jager was already asleep—or trying to be. He lay stiffly on top of the covers, his breath slow and measured, his face turned away from her.