He does not need to say where. My brothers move before the last echo of his thought fades.
Haroth snatches his spear from the rack. Zan falls in behind him, checking his blade with a quick, practiced swipe of his thumb. Kelvan already has his weapon in hand, jaw tight.
I step forward.
Kol did not name me. My duty is here. He told me earlier to guard the perimeter, watch the entrances, keep predators from slipping past us into the hollow of the clan.
But I let the worst predator of all into our midst.
I did not smell the poison until it was already in their hands.
Shame burns low in my gut, an icy fire that refuses to go out. But I will not stay behind.
I found the poison. I will hunt its source.
“I go too,” I project toward Kol, my thought hard as bone.
His gaze cuts to me. He sees the tension in my jaw, the way my claws are flexing. He feels the way my need to fix this beats against the confines of my chest.
His head tilts once.
Permission.
Haroth, Xan, Kelvan, and I turn toward the deep tunnel as one, feet striking stone in a heavy, unified rhythm. The air near the passage mouth is cooler, carrying a faint dampness that tells of water trapped in stone.
We do not look back.
We are almost in the darkness when I hear it.
Footsteps. Soft. Too light to belong to any of my brothers. Slapping quickly against the rock.
I turn.
Mih-kay-lah is running toward us.
My dra-kir jerks at the sight of her, a painful thud in my chest.
She is breathing hard, chest rising and falling. Strands of her head-fur have come loose, sticking to her damp cheeks. In her arms, she clutches a woven basket, hugging it close.
Haroth and Zan slow, following my line of sight.
“Mih-kay-lah?” I rumble.
She has never come toward me like this. Not head-on. Not with purpose.
For a moment, my mind blanks.
Then she stops in front of me and sets her feet.
She touches her chest with one hand, then jabs that hand toward the dark tunnel. Then back to herself.
“I’m coming,” she says aloud.
Even without Jus-teen, the meaning is clear.
“Noh,” I snarl. The word scrapes my throat raw. I switch to Drakav words next. “Dangerous. Wet. Dark.”
She ignores the warning entirely.
