The air reeked of coal smoke and sweat as Clara navigated the crowded docks, her boots clicking against the wooden planks. The harbor bustled with merchants unloading crates of spices and textiles, their shouts blending with the cawing gulls. She clutched the frayed map in her pocket, its edges worn from years of travel. The note she’d found in her brother’s satchel—*Seek the Iron Trail, follow the smoke*—had led her here, to the edge of the known world.
The town of Blackmoor clung to the cliffs like a desperate thing, its buildings haphazardly stacked against the slope. Smoke curled from chimneys, mingling with the brine-heavy wind. Clara’s eyes scanned the faces in the crowd, searching for anyone who might recognize the name *Elias Voss*. Her brother’s face haunted her—sharp cheekbones, a scar along his jawline, the way he’d laughed when they’d played cards in their mother’s kitchen before he’d vanished two years ago.
A shout cut through the din. “Get out of the way, you fool!” A man in a soot-streaked coat shoved past her, nearly toppling a stack of barrels. Clara steadied them, her fingers brushing against the damp wood. The man didn’t stop, but she’d caught a glimpse of his face—thin, pale, and too still. Something about him unsettled her.
She turned down a narrow alley, the sun struggling to pierce the shadows between the buildings. The scent of rust and decay clung to the air. A group of children chased each other around a pile of discarded gears, their laughter sharp and bright. Clara hesitated, then followed the sound. If her brother had been here, he’d have left a mark.
The alley opened into a clearing where a massive ironworks stood, its furnaces belching plumes of black smoke. Workers in soot-covered aprons moved like ghosts, their faces hidden behind scarves. Clara’s pulse quickened. This was it—the Iron Trail. But where was Elias?
A voice behind her made her freeze. “You shouldn’t be here.” The man from the docks stood a few paces away, his expression unreadable. His coat hung open, revealing a belt of tools and a revolver at his hip. “This place isn’t safe for strangers.”
Clara met his gaze, her voice steady. “I’m not a stranger. I’m looking for my brother.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Elias Voss?”
She nodded, her throat tight. “You know him.”
He exhaled sharply, as if weighing a decision. “Come with me.”
They moved through the maze of machinery, the clatter of hammers and hiss of steam filling the air. The man led her to a small office tucked behind a stack of iron bars. A single lamp cast a yellow glow over the room, illuminating a desk cluttered with blueprints and maps.
“Sit,” he said, gesturing to a chair. “I’ll tell you what I know.”
Clara sank into the chair, her hands clenched around the armrests. “What happened to him?”
The man hesitated, then pulled a folded letter from his coat. “He came here looking for work. Said he’d heard the ironworks needed laborers. But he didn’t stay long.”
“Where did he go?”
“That’s the thing,” the man said, unfolding the letter. “He left this behind. I don’t know why, but it’s addressed to you.”
Clara took the letter, her fingers trembling as she unfolded it. The ink was smudged, the words hurried: *Clara, if you’re reading this, I’m gone. The trail leads north, to the mines. They’re not what they seem. Trust no one.*
She looked up, her voice a whisper. “The mines?”
The man nodded. “I tried to warn him. But Elias was stubborn. Like you.”
A sudden clang echoed through the building, followed by shouts. The man’s head snapped toward the door. “We need to go.”
Clara stood, her mind racing. The mines. That was where Elias had gone. And if he’d left this letter, it meant he’d discovered something dangerous.
The man grabbed her arm. “Stay low. Whatever you do, don’t let them see your face.”
They slipped into the alley, the air thick with the scent of smoke and iron. Clara’s heart pounded as they moved through the shadows, the sound of footsteps growing closer behind them. She didn’t know who *they* were, but she could feel their presence like a shadow at her back.
The mines loomed ahead, their entrance a gaping maw in the hillside. Clara hesitated, then pressed forward. Whatever awaited her in the dark, she had no choice but to face it.
