The sentinel’s eyes softened by a fraction. “The council will not be pleased.”
“They rarely are.”
He gave a low rumble of acknowledgment and stepped aside, signaling to others near the lower terraces. Word would spread quickly—Rygnar returning from the surface with a human. By midday the entire colony would know.
Lina watched the exchange. “They don’t like me already, do they?”
“They may,” I said. “Once they see what I see.”
She didn’t press. She only nodded and kept walking.
When we reached the lower terraces, a small group gathered to meet us—five Mesaarkans and two humans. Their faces held amix of welcome and worry. At the center stood Veklan, the oldest among us, his crest faded to dull copper, his eyes still sharp.
“Rygnar,” he said. “You were gone too long.”
“There were raiders near Gretchen,” I replied. “I found her on the road. She would have died.”
Veklan’s gaze shifted to Lina. “Then she owes you her life,” he said, his tone unreadable. “And we owe you our secrecy. This makes us uneasy.”
“She will not endanger us.”
“That is for the council to decide.”
Lina stepped forward before I could stop her.
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” she said, voice steady. “I didn’t ask to come, but I won’t betray anyone who’s helped me. You have my word.”
Her bravery startled them—and me.
Veklan studied her for a moment, then inclined his head. “We’ll see if your word weighs more than fear.”
He turned back to me. “You know the rules. She stays in your quarters. You answer for her.”
“I accept.”
The others dispersed, murmuring. Lina exhaled.
“I’m not sure if that went well.”
“It could have gone worse,” I said.
We crossed the final terrace to my dwelling—a narrow arch cut into the stone with a door of composite metal disguised as weathered wood. Inside, the space was small but warm, lit by bioluminescent strips that ran like veins along the ceiling. The air smelled faintly of resin and herbs.
Lina paused at the threshold. “This is… incredible.”
“It’s home,” I said. “For now.”
She turned slowly, taking it in—the tools, the neat stacks of mineral cores, and the bench with its med supplies. Then hereyes found the sleeping alcove built into the wall. Color touched her cheeks, and she looked away.
“You really don’t waste space.”
“Efficiency is safer,” I said. It sounded colder than I intended, so I added, “You may rest in the alcove. I’ll take the outer pallet.”
She looked at me quickly. “You don’t have to go outside.”
“I wasn’t planning to.” I slid the spare pallet from its niche near the door and set it on the floor, then drew the partition halfway across the room. Not enough to close us off from one another. Just enough to give privacy. “We can share the space without crowding each other.”
Relief crossed her face. Not fear easing, exactly, but tension releasing.
