I collapse against the wall, sliding down until the cool plaster hits the back of my skull.
My hands tremble so hard I can barely pull Garma into my arms. He whimpers, confused, then buries his face in my shoulder. I kiss the top of his head, whispering against his skin.
“You can’t… You can’t do that again, little one.”
He sighs, tiny and content, like he didn’t just speak a word that’s going to change the course of everything.
I rock him until he falls asleep, the glow finally leaving his eyes.
But I don’t sleep.
I sit by the window, watching the city lights smear through the drizzle, and stare at the comm unit still blinking softly.
One part of me—the scientist—catalogs the anomaly, starts mapping probable data relays, cross-referencing possible Rhavadaz tech survivors.
The other part—the human part—just holds her child and listens to the silence between pulses, wondering if hope has finally come back to haunt her.
Because if Naull is reaching across the void, if the Meld isn’t dead—then the world I thought I built here in Oxford is already burning from the inside out.
And I can’t hide forever.
CHAPTER 19
NAULL
They told me to wait.
To stay quiet.
Tonot be seen.
I tear the orders in half.
It’s raining when I steal the lander—just like it was the first day I met her. Cold. Relentless. The kind of storm that makes bones ache and blood sing.
The thing barely makes it to the upper atmosphere before systems start shrieking at me. It doesn’t matter. I don’t need finesse. I needdown.
Reentry punches through the clouds like a hammer from the stars. The controls protest, then spark. The lake below grows closer in that terrifying way all gravity does when you’re past the point of no return.
I brace. Grit my teeth. And crash.
The water explodes around me, all pressure and chaos and blessed silence. For a breath, I float—weightless in the dark. Then the impact hits my bones, jarring me back into motion. I kick free, breach the surface.
Sirens already. Drones slice through fog.
They won’t catch me.
Cowley’s voice screams in my earpiece, scrambled and full of static: “You’re off protocol, Naull—damn it,stand down!You’ve compromised everything!”
I rip the comm out. Toss it into the lake.
Let him cover for me—or not. I don’t care.
Because she’s here. Somewhere beneath this gray, waterlogged sky.
I canfeelher.
Every step through the mud, through the ancient stone streets, tightens the line between my ribs. The Meld isn’t active—not fully—but my body knows hers. Always has.
