Her mouth curved, small but real. “Then I’ll try to be worth it.”
I shook my head once. “You already are.”
The doors opened.
We stepped forward together.
Chapter Five
Council of Doubt
Lina
The council chamber wasn’t what I expected.
No throne, no banners, no cold stone dais where people decided fates from a height. Just a wide, low hall carved directly into the rock, its walls veined with dull green minerals that caught the light like embers under ash. A ring of raised platforms surrounded a shallow basin in the center. We stood there, Rygnar beside me, half a step closer than anyone else.
Seven Mesaarkans waited in the circle, most with the same calm menace I’d seen in Veklan the day before. Their scaled skin shimmered in subtle colors—bronze, silver, and muted green. A few humans sat along the outer benches, older and weary-looking, with eyes that had seen too many sides of the war. I wondered which side they thought I was on now.
The hum in the air wasn’t just sound. It felt alive, as if the mountain itself were listening.
Veklan rumbled, “Rygnar of the South Face returns, bringing an outsider from the human enclaves. He claims she was attacked by raiders a few days’ walk from here and rescued. The matter of her presence must be decided.”
That word—matter—landed like I was something heavy they wanted to set down carefully without owning it.
Another councilor leaned forward. “You risked our secrecy,” she said to Rygnar. Her scales were the color of tarnished copper. “If she was tracked—”
“She was not, Councilor Vorn,” Rygnar said, interrupting in that same mild tone. “I disabled her beacon.”
That earned a few slow blinks. Surprise, maybe, but not outrage.
The woman’s slit pupils shifted to me. “Do you understand where you are, human?”
I swallowed. “A place that shouldn’t exist.”
That drew a murmur that might have been laughter.
I pressed on before courage could falter. “I don’t mean disrespect. I mean… I won’t tell anyone. I owe my life to Rygnar, and I pay my debts.”
Veklan watched me like a hawk gauging distance to prey. “Debts can change under fear,” he said. “Fear makes mouths run faster than feet.”
“I know what fear does,” I said quietly. “I’ve been running from it since before the war ended eight years ago. But I didn’t come here by choice, and I won’t make the mistake of destroying the one place that feels… different.”
That last word hung there longer than I intended.
Rygnar’s hand brushed mine—not a grasp, just the ghost of reassurance. Enough to remind me I wasn’t alone.
Veklan’s expression didn’t soften, but his voice did. “Our laws are simple. Any outsider must have a sponsor. You will stay under Rygnar’s protection, work where you can, and answer for your actions. If you endanger the colony, the council will reconsider. Agreed?”
“Yes,” I said.
“And you, Rygnar? You accept full responsibility?”
“I do.”
No hesitation. No visible regret.
Veklan nodded once. “Then it is done.”
