Chapter 61: To Shake The Surface

The jet hummed quietly as it sliced through the clouds, heading back to Feilun.

Kane stared out the window, arms crossed tightly against his chest, watching the endless blue stretch beneath them.

His reflection in the glass showed a fox spirit with tired eyes and a tight jaw.

Across the aisle, Cyrus tapped at his laptop, occasionally glancing up when he thought Kane wasn’t looking.

The clicking of keys filled the silence between them. Three hours and not a single word exchanged.

Kane shifted in his seat, and a flicker of emotional static pulsed through their karmic bond. Cyrus’s fingers paused mid-keystroke. He felt it too.

Cyrus closed his laptop with a soft click. He studied Kane’s rigid profile against the window, opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it.

Instead, he reached for a glass of water, avoiding Kane’s gaze.

With a sigh, Kane reached into his bag and pulled out the small gift Bob had handed him before they left the ship.

"Might as well," he muttered, tearing open the wrapping.

Inside sat what appeared to be a typical cruise ship souvenir—a small snow globe with a miniature Silver Mermaid floating in blue-tinted liquid.

Beneath it lay a folded note on Holloway Global Ventures stationery.

Kane unfolded the letter, angling it away from Cyrus’s line of sight.

Kane,

Sometimes the most valuable things are hidden in plain sight. Dad always said I had a talent for overlooking what matters. Funny how what we’re drawn to reveals who we truly are.

If you’re ever in Athens again, look me up. I’ll show you the real treasures—the ones not locked in my father’s collection.

Until then, shake things up a bit.

— Robert Holloway

Kane turned the snow globe in his hand, frowning at Bob’s cryptic words. He gave it a gentle shake, watching the glitter swirl around the tiny ship.

Kane’s eyes narrowed as he studied the snow globe again. Something wasn’t right.

The miniature Silver Mermaid inside didn’t match the actual ship’s proportions.

The tiny figurehead was different—not a mermaid at all, but something else entirely.

"Wait a second," Kane muttered, tilting the globe toward the cabin light.

The figurehead was a chalice.

He reread Bob’s note. Sometimes the most valuable things are hidden in plain sight.

"Cyrus," Kane said, breaking their hours-long silence. "Look at this."

Cyrus reluctantly moved to the seat beside Kane, their shoulders brushing as he examined the snow globe.

"The glitter," Cyrus said, pointing to the suspended particles. "They’re not random."

Kane shook it again, watching as the particles settled into a distinct pattern—a cathedral spire.

"St. Aveline’s," they said simultaneously.

Kane pulled out his phone, searching quickly.

"It’s in Feilun. Downtown district."

Cyrus’s eyes met Kane’s for the first time since they’d left the ship. "The oldest cathedral in the city."

"And look at the base," Kane said, turning the globe upside down to reveal an inscription: Where vessels empty, truth remains.

The karmic bond between them hummed with renewed energy.

"He knew," Kane whispered. "Bob knew where the real chalice was all along."

Cyrus took the snow globe from Kane’s hands, examining it more closely. His expression shifted from skepticism to genuine surprise.

"He’s either very clever... or he’s always known more than he let on."

"Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s passed me secrets to get my attention." Kane said with a forced lightness.

The words hung in the cabin air, sharper than intended. Kane wasn’t sure if he’d been genuinely helped or skillfully manipulated.

"You really think he’s smarter than his father?" Kane asked, watching Cyrus’s face for any reaction.

Cyrus set the snow globe down carefully between them.

"I think we underestimated him." He paused, his gaze meeting Kane’s. "And maybe I underestimated you too."

Kane’s ears perked up at the admission. Coming from Cyrus, it was practically a declaration.

"That’s... surprisingly not painful for you to say," Kane said, his defenses still up but wavering.

The jet hit a pocket of turbulence. The snow globe rolled toward the edge of the armrest, and they both reached for it simultaneously.

Their fingers brushed, and Cyrus’s hand lingered, his thumb grazing the edge of Kane’s wrist.

For a fleeting moment, neither of them moved.

The contact point between their hands felt charged, as if the karmic bond had concentrated itself into that single touch.

Kane withdrew first, clearing his throat. "So, St. Aveline’s Cathedral. Think we’ll find the real chalice there?"

"It’s worth investigating," Cyrus replied, his voice oddly soft.

He leaned back in his seat but remained beside Kane rather than returning to his original position.

The tension between them had shifted, not dissolved but transformed into something less brittle.

Kane tucked Bob’s note into his pocket, wondering what other secrets the Holloway heir might be keeping.

"When we land," Cyrus said, "we should go directly to the cathedral."

Kane nodded.

"Do you think the Bureau should know about this?" Kane asked, watching Cyrus’s reflection in the window.

"Not yet," Cyrus replied. "Let’s confirm what we’re dealing with first."

Hours passed as the jet continued its journey back to Feilun.

The sky outside darkened from azure to deep indigo, stars appearing like scattered diamonds against the velvet backdrop.

Kane’s head nodded forward, then jerked back up as he fought against his exhaustion.

His third attempt to stay awake failed, and he drifted off, his breathing becoming slow and even.

Cyrus glanced up from his tablet, watching Kane’s chest rise and fall, his face peaceful in a way it never was while awake.

Something in Cyrus’s expression softened. He set his tablet aside and stood, moving quietly through the cabin.

He found a cashmere blanket in one of the overhead compartments and returned to Kane’s side.

With unexpected gentleness, Cyrus unfolded the blanket and draped it over Kane’s sleeping form.

His fingers lingered for a moment, adjusting the fabric around Kane’s shoulders.

A memory flickered through Cyrus’s mind—the motel room, the storm, Kane’s warmth against him. He pushed the thought away.

Kane shifted in his sleep, murmuring something unintelligible. His tail twitched beneath the blanket.

Cyrus returned to his seat, but his eyes remained on Kane long after he’d picked up his tablet again.