The building rose ahead of me, its high ceilings and wooden beams visible through the open doorways. It reminded me of my Sola’s atzan, the central gathering place where my people came together to share meals and conversation and community. Not as large, of course. The atzan could hold thousands when needed. But the feeling was similar. That sense of belonging to something bigger than yourself.
I was looking forward to breakfast. Looking forward to the flavors of D’tran cooking and the warmth of the hall and, if I was honest, the possibility of seeing Iris. Perhaps she would join me this morning. Perhaps last night had opened a door that she would choose to walk through.
A figure appeared in my path, moving fast. Human. One of the guards who had come with the diplomatic team.
“You,” he said, slightly out of breath. “Baleck. Have you seen Iris?”
I stopped, confusion flickering through me. “Not since last night. Why?”
“She’s missing.” The guard, whose name was Anker, lowered his voice. His expression was tight with worry. “We can’t find her anywhere.”
The words didn’t make sense at first. Missing. Iris. The two concepts refused to connect in my mind. She was the most capable person I’d ever met. The idea that she could simply vanish was absurd.
“Slow down,” I said, holding up a hand. “What do you mean, missing?”
“She didn’t report for morning check-in. When we went to her quarters, she wasn’t there. Her bed hadn’t been slept in. Her room…” He swallowed. “It looks like there was a struggle.”
Everything shifted. “I did not?—”
Anker held up a hand. “No one thinks you did.” He didn’t blink. “No offense, Baleck. You’re a fit Destran warrior, but Iris is probably the most lethal person on this planet right now. If you tried to harm her, you wouldn’t be on your feet right now.”
I nodded, relieved I wouldn’t have to waste time defending myself. It would have taken time away from finding Iris. However, the contentment I’d felt moments ago evaporated. It had been replaced by something cold and sharp that settled in my chest like a blade. I was already moving before I’d consciously decided to, my feet carrying me toward the guest quarters at a pace just short of running.
Anker followed, struggling to keep up.
Sophie Diaz met me at the entrance, her silver-streaked hair disheveled and her expression grim. Beside her stood Vash, the Destran diplomat, his skin shifting through anxious patterns of gray and muted yellow.
“Baleck.” Sophie’s voice was clipped, professional, but I could hear the fear underneath. “You and Iris were seen together after yesterday’s rainstorm. Where did she go after that?”
“I walked her back to her quarters,” I said, keeping my voice steady despite the storm building inside me. “I left her at her door. She went inside. I returned to my own room in the village.”
“You didn’t see anything unusual? Anyone watching? Following?”
“No. The streets were quiet. We passed a few people, but nothing seemed out of place.”
Sophie’s jaw tightened. “Her room is a mess. Furniture overturned. Bedding scattered. Signs of a fight.” She fixed me with a hard stare. “You’re certain you left her at her door?”
“Yes.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “She was fine when I left.”
“Then something happened after you walked away.”
I pushed past her into the building, needing to see for myself. The corridor was short, leading to several doors that opened onto private quarters. Iris’s was at the end, its door standing open.
The room beyond was chaos.
The small table had been knocked over, its contents scattered across the floor. The sleeping pallet was askew, blankets tangled and torn. A chair lay on its side near the window, which stood open to the morning air.
No blood. That was the first thing I looked for, and its absence allowed me to breathe again. But the signs of struggle were undeniable. Whatever had happened here, Iris hadn’t gone quietly.
Fear surged through me, cold and overwhelming. I wanted to scream, to tear the room apart looking for clues, to run into the streets and demand answers from anyone who might have them. The protective instinct I’d felt the night before returned with vicious intensity, clawing at my insides.
I forced it down. Forced my face to remain calm,willedmy colors to stay steady. Panic would help no one.
“We need to search the village,” I said, turning to face Sophie.
“We already have.” Sophie held up a small device, its screen glowing with data. “Iris has a tracking chip embedded in her neck. We scanned the entire village. She’s not here.”
I stared at her, a chill running through me that had nothing to do with fear for Iris. “A tracking chip?”
