She steps forward, voice lowering for me alone.
“Your Al’fa has agreed. The Surface Zmaj have no objections. The humans trust her. She stands between all three peoples without threatening any of them. A rare position.” Her gaze softens. “And because she is rare… she must not die.”
I bow my head. “I will guard her with my life.”
“I know, Rakkh.” Her hand rests briefly on my shoulder, comfort and command intertwined. “But she will resist your protection. Humans are surprisingly stubborn.”
A low rumble escapes me. “I am patient.”
“For her, you must be.”
Footsteps approach. An Urr’ki—Travnyk—and Tomas, one of the human scouts. The Queen nods to them, then looks past me.
“She will sense us soon,” the Queen murmurs.
As if on cue, she does. Lia stops, every muscle tensing, her hand drifting toward her knife. Slowly, she turns. The Queen steps from the shadows first. I follow.
Lia’s eyes widen. Fear, yes, but something else flickers there. Something hotter. Quick. A spark that hits the center of my chest with startling precision.
My breath catches. I step closer without meaning to.
“Lia,” the Urr’ki Queen says, nodding to her.
Lia straightens like she has swallowed fire. Her eyes dart between us nervously.
“I—I was just leaving. Calista and Jolie said?—”
“Yes.” The Queen smiles softly. “I am aware. They are rarely wrong.” She gestures to me. “And because your life matters to all three peoples… you will not go alone.”
Lia’s gaze jumps to mine. Holds. Heat coils low in my spine; my hearts beat faster.
“I did not ask—” she begins.
“No,” the Queen says gently, but firmly. “This is not a request. I am assigning Rakkh to your protection.”
I hear her pulse spike. My hands clench reflexively as Travnyk steps forward.
“I will accompany you too. A sickness that strikes Urr’ki and Zmaj both must be understood.”
“And I will come too,” Tomas says, fist pressed to his chest in awkward human salute. “Extra hands.”
The Queen nods, approving. Then her eyes find Lia again.
“Follow the dying plants. Track the corruption. Return with the truth.” Her voice softens. “Come back alive.”
Lia’s throat works around a hard swallow. Then she looks at me. Really looks.
Something inside me shifts—slow and seismic, like the stir of a sandstorm deep underground. A recognition that should not be possible. Her chin lifts, a fragile defiance glinting in moonlight.
“Fine,” she says, mouth tightening. “Then… we go now.”
The Queen hides her smile poorly. I do not look away from Lia. Something tugs in my chest, gripping my heart so that I cannot look away.
“May Tajss guide you,” the Queen whispers.
Lia turns and steps out onto the dunes. I follow, and the others fall in behind us. We quickly leave the valley behind and enter the desert proper. It is not long before we crest a rise of sand and the wind shifts, carrying a scent that sets my senses on alert. It is feral, patient, and hungry.
It feels as if something watches us from the next dune. I study the desert, staring, expecting to see something—anything—but there is nothing. Only shadows and shifting sands.
