I kept my attention on the scanner, watching the three-dimensional map build itself as we moved deeper. The caves here were extensive, a network of passages that branched and reconnected in patterns that suggested both natural water flow and deliberate excavation. Whoever had expanded these tunnels—the Kythrans, presumably—had done so with clear purpose, creating pathways that connected different sections of the cave system in ways that wouldn’t have occurred naturally.
“There,” I said quietly, pointing to a section of the display. “That passage shows too much regularity to be natural. The walls are almost perfectly parallel, and the floor gradient is consistent over at least fifty meters.”
Vikkat examined where I was pointing, then directed two warriors to investigate. They disappeared down a side passage with their weapons ready and their movements cautious.
We waited in tense silence, and I tried very hard not to think about how much stone was above our heads. How many thousands of tons of rock were being held up by nothing but the planet’s own geological stability. How one earthquake, one structural weakness, could turn this cave into a grave.
“Breathe,” Torven murmured beside me, and I realized I’d been holding my breath again.
“I’m breathing.”
“Not very well.”
I pulled in air and focused on the scanner.Data. Numbers.Readings I could analyze and understand. That was better than thinking about the weight of stone or the harsh glancesfrom some of the D’tran or the very real possibility that we were walking into a trap.
The scouts returned, reporting in rapid D’tran. Vikkat’s expression shifted through several emotions I couldn’t quite read before settling on grim determination.
“Found living quarters,” he said. “Old. Abandoned. But someone lived there once. We continue that direction.”
We moved deeper into the caves, following the passage I’d identified. My scanner was showing more and more signs of artificial construction—passages too regular, chambers too symmetrical, support structures that suggested sophisticated engineering. Someone had definitely been here, had carved out a home in the depths of this planet.
Whether they were still here was the question that made my pulse race every time we rounded a corner.
We were well down the passageway, maybe a hundred meters from our staging area, when the world exploded.
The blast came from ahead of us, a thunderous detonation that sent a shockwave rolling through the tunnel like a physical thing. I had just enough time to protect my scanner before Torven curled around me and took us both to the ground. His body covered mine as debris rained down from the ceiling.
Chunks of rock hit the floor around us. Dust filled the air, making it impossible to see or breathe. My ears rang from the pressure wave, and I couldn’t hear anything except a high-pitched whine that seemed to fill my entire head.
Torven’s weight pressed me into the cave floor, and I could feel his fear and determination mixed together in a cocktail of emotion that was almost overwhelming. He wasterrified something would hit me, terrified I’d be crushed or injured or worse.
“I’m okay,” I tried to say, but I couldn’t hear my own voice over the ringing in my ears.
The falling debris slowed and then stopped, leaving us in choking darkness. The red lights had gone out—shattered or buried, I didn’t know which. I could hear coughing and shouting in D’tran, voices calling out in the dark.
Torven’s weight lifted off me, and I felt his hands running over my body with urgent efficiency, checking for injuries. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t think so.” I pushed myself up to sitting, wincing at various aches that suggested I’d be sore tomorrow. “What happened?”
“Explosion.” His voice was grim. “Trap, maybe. Or defensive measure.”
Around us, portable lights were flickering back to life, casting the tunnel in that eerie red glow again. But the scene they revealed made my stomach drop.
Two of the D’tran scouts—the ones who’d gone ahead to check the passage—were down. Not dead, thankfully. I didn’t think I could take an anxiety attack down here, where I was already stressed to the max. One lay near a pile of rubble with blood on his clothing and a clearly broken leg. He was incredibly stoic considering the pain he had to be in. The other was conscious, but bleeding heavily from a head wound, being tended to by the D’tran female who’d helped me earlier. Everyone else was accounted for. No one had died. But someone could have. And someone stillmay.
“This has not happened before,” Vikkat said, his voicecarrying a note of shock that I’d never heard from him. He stood in the center of the chaos, staring at the collapsed section of tunnel ahead. “Never have sky-stealers used explosives in defense. Never.”
“Maybe they’ve gotten desperate,” I said, coughing on the dust that still filled the air. “Or maybe they think we’re a bigger threat than previous search parties.”
But even as I said it, I could see the D’tran warriors exchanging looks. Suspicious, hostile looks that made my skin prickle with awareness.
“Or maybe,” one of them said—Dorek, I realized—“the star-cousins warned them we were coming. Gave them time to prepare defenses.”
The accusation hung in the air.
“That isnotfactual,” I said, struggling to my feet with Torven’s help. “How would we warn them? We’ve been with you since we left the tower.”
“Your equipment,” another warrior said, gesturing to the scanner still clipped to my belt. “Sends signals through rock. Could send messages too.”
