His hand shifts at my waist. No longer cautious, but certain. I feel the choice in it, the same way I felt it when he stood between me and the ship earlier. He’s standing with me against what comes next.
A low chime ripples through the chamber. It’s not an alarm, but a notification.
Travnyk’s head lifts. “External systems are activating.”
My stomach tightens. “Define external,” I say.
“Long-range sensors,” he says. “Communications arrays.”
I freeze.
“No,” I whisper. “That wasn’t?—”
The console brightens again, this time without waiting for my touch. A single line of text resolves at the top of the display. A new subsystem tab opens—something Maddy buried behind “safe-to-transit” conditions.
SIGNAL BEACON — ACTIVE
Tomas groans. “Please tell me that doesn’t mean what I think it means.”
I swallow hard. “Maddy built it to broadcast once it was safe. Once it was moving.”
“To whom?” Rakkh asks.
I don’t answer right away, because in truth I’m only guessing—and even that is a heavy thought.
“I’m guessing—anyone still listening,” I say. “Anyone who remembers the war. Anyone who knows what this ship is.”
Travnyk’s tusks gleam faintly as his jaw tightens.
“Including those who caused the Devastation.”
“Yes.”
The ship continues to hum, not apologetic or defensive—just matter-of-fact. Rakkh exhales through his teeth.
“So this is not the end.”
I turn into him, pressing my forehead briefly to his chest. The contact is small and grounding, but it steadies me more than anything else could.
“No,” I say honestly. “It’s the part where consequences begin.”
His arms come around me fully, not caring that Travnyk is watching, that Tomas is very pointedly pretending not to. His wings curve just enough to create a pocket of space, and for a heartbeat the universe narrows to heat, breath, and the certainty of his presence.
“Then let them come,” he murmurs. “They will not take you from me.”
I look up at him, heart pounding, not with fear, but with something fierce and bright.
“They won’t,” I say. “Because this time, I’m not alone.”
The ship hums in agreement.
And far beyond the hull, beyond even Tajss, something ancient and patient hears the signal. The board has been reset. The next move will not be gentle.
27
LIA
The ship lets us go.
