Not your concern,I reminded myself.She’s a mission. Nothing more.
I noticed the crew had settled into an easy rhythm. Bryx had taught Elle how to properly greet Kevin without getting stung—a delicate dance of humming and hand gestures that she’d fumbled through while the crew laughed. Even that simple moment of levity felt dangerous. She was integrating too well.
“We’re going on patrol,” I announced when she approached the fire for breakfast.
Elle looked up from the bowl Eltrien handed her, confusion clear on her face. “Patrol? The Sage said more training today.”
“Training includes practical application. There are things moving in the forest—constructs. Bone and root fused together, drawn to concentrated Root power.” I checked the knives at my belt. “Which means they’re drawn to you.”
“So I’m bait.” Her voice went flat.
“You’re the lure, yes. But you’re also the weapon.” I met her eyes. “You needed to know you could handle them in the field, not just in a controlled circle with the Sage watching. These things hunt at night. Better to facethem now, on our terms, than have them find camp while everyone’s sleeping.”
“You could have mentioned that before just announcing we’re going on a death walk.”
“Would you have agreed to come if I’d explained the full extent of the danger?”
She hesitated. “No. Probably not.”
“Then discussing it beforehand would have been pointless. I would have brought you regardless—this needed to happen.” I finished checking my weapons and looked at her directly. “We leave in ten minutes. Bring water, not breakfast. You’ll want an empty stomach for this.”
“Just the two of us?”
“The others have tasks. Perimeter checks, supply runs, scout rotations. Someone needs to stay with the Sage.” I paused, considering whether to add more, then decided honesty served better than comfort. “And if this goes badly, better it’s just me who has to deal with the consequences.”
“This seems like a terrible idea.”
“Most of mine are. But they keep us alive, so I keep having them.” I gestured toward her tent. “Ten minutes. Don’t make me come get you.”
She muttered something under her breath that sounded like “no kidding” but stood to prepare.
Ten minutes later, we were walking through the deeper forest. Elle tried to look confident but jumped at every sound. Her marks glowed faintly with her nervousness.
“Stop broadcasting fear,” I said. “Everything in a mile radius can sense it.”
“How do I stop?”
“Remember you’re more dangerous than most of them now.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It’s fact.”
We walked in silence along a path that barely existed. The forest here was ancient, trees so old they’d developed their own ecosystems—moss gardens growing on bark, insects that only lived in specific branches, entireworlds contained in a single trunk.
Elle stared at the canopy with wonder that made her look younger, more vulnerable. Her mouth was slightly open, eyes tracking the way light filtered through leaves in colors that didn’t exist on Earth. She’d stopped walking entirely, too absorbed in the beauty to remember she was supposed to be watching for threats.
Liability, I told myself. She’s going to get herself killed staring at trees.
But I didn’t push her forward. Didn’t snap at her to focus. Just watched her take in the forest with the kind of unguarded awe I’d lost decades ago, if I’d ever had it at all. The marks on her skin were glowing faintly, responding to the life around us, and she didn’t even notice. Didn’t realize she was unconsciously reaching toward the trees, her power already trying to connect.
She was so clearly Jo’s blood. That same wonder, that same instinct to commune rather than conquer. Jo had looked at the Thornwood like it was a miracle, even after everything it had taken from her.
Stop noticing such things, I commanded myself. She’s a mission. A debt. Nothing more.
But then she smiled—just slightly, just for a moment—at something in the canopy, and I felt the connection between our marks pulse. Not painful this time. Just… present. Aware.
She was becoming more attuned to the Root with every passing hour, and I was dying from my failed attempts to force it. The irony would have been funny if it didn’t make me want to destroy something.
