His grin widened, unmistakably amused, like he could read my mind.Don't be ridiculous, Nadine. Still, for a terrifying second, I wondered if he actuallycouldread my thoughts.
"He's… scattered," Dravok said. "Fragments. Warnings layered over memory. Something about a wound remembering. About a hunger that learned patience."
I swallowed.
"That doesn't help," I said lightly. "Could you be more specific?"
He studied me, then continued, "He speaks of theHarrowed One. Of echoes gathering until they learned to want."
My brain latched onto the pattern instantly.
"Oh," I said before I could stop myself. "So that's what he's calling it."
He stiffened. I winced internally.
"Callingwhat?" he asked.
"The entity," I said, gesturing vaguely toward the stars beyond the viewport. "The organizing principle behind the Abyssal behavior. If there is one.Hypothetically."
He stared at me as if I'd just pulled a weapon out of thin air.
"You understand this?" he looked incredulous, like I hadn't proven this earlier.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes—now is not the time, Nadine. "I understandpatterns. Names are just compression algorithms with delusions of grandeur."
That earned me a sharp, startled laugh.
"You really do translate hisnonsense," he sounded more like he was talking to himself.
Still, I gave a small, careful shrug. "I'm… trying."
And there it was, the moment where I should have backed away, where self-preservation should have overridden curiosity. Instead, I heard myself add, "He's not talking to you because you're special. He's talking to you because you're… close. Whatever that means."
The amusement drained from his expression. "You're certain of that?"
"No," I admitted. "But it fits the data better thandestiny."
He watched me for a long moment; something unreadable flickered through the gold-threaded darkness around him.
Then, quietly, "You're not pretending."
I forced a smile. "I don't pretend well."
Which was true. The silence stretched again, thicker now, charged with things neither of us was ready to name. Somewhere deep in my chest, my heart finally slowed, but my mind raced faster than ever. Crazy or not… dangerous or not… whatever Dravok was experiencing, it wasn't random. That terrified me far more than the idea of voices in the dark. Something in his expression changed—resolved.
I saw the determination settle behind his eyes like a decision made against his own wishes. "You have to come with me." He sounded more resigned than inviting.
I blinked. "What?"
He frowned, clearly displeased with the conclusion even as he accepted it. "You're not safe here. Not if you continue pulling meaning out of Nythor's fragments."
"No," I said immediately. "No. I'm here to study the black hole."
"The Dark Abyss," he corrected automatically.
"The black hole," I shot back. "And I'm not leaving."
Even as the words left my mouth, the temptation already settled deep inside my soul, and unfortunately, my mind was on board, because he was an Arkhevari. According to him, he'd spent years in the Black Abyss. I could probably learn more from him in days than I could in months aboard this ship.
