He sees it. Understands.
“Can you move?” he asks.
I evaluate. Damage. Blood loss. Motor function.
“Yes.”
He nods. Acceptance.
“Stay with us.”
Not command. Directive.
I look at him. I look at her. I look back. The space remains. Choice remains.
Mine.
I step forward. Into formation. Beside her. His gaze holds mine a moment longer. Something unspoken passes. Not resolved. Not forgiven. Acknowledged. Enough.
“For now,” he says.
Correct. For now is sufficient. We move.
The team shifts around us, creating structure, direction, purpose as we pull away from the opening, from the tunnel, from the thing still trying to follow.
The desert stretches ahead. Open. Exposed. Alive.
For the first time I can remember, I am moving through it without direction imposed. Without command. Without control. Only choice.
Mine.
I am not alone.
26
LEENA
Idon’t know what just happened. The scarred Zmaj, Drazan, knows Kaelreth. Something passed between them that I do not understand in the slightest.
I thought, for more than a moment, they were going to kill each other. I’ve learned to read Kael well enough, in the limited time we’ve been together, to recognize his reactions. Especially toward violence, and there was no mistaking that was where it was going. Then something changed.
There’s no time to find out now. That blasted thing is still coming for us. Relentless as the heat of Tajss’ suns. We have no choice but to keep moving, but Kael is still wounded.
He’s upright, but barely. His steps are uneven, his breath rough, and every time he moves I see it in the way his body drags, in the tremor he’s trying so hard to hide.
The rescue team fans out ahead of us in disciplined formation. They’re efficient, controlled, weapons up, but no longer trained on him. Watching for more of those things.
They don’t know what just happened in his head. Not like I do. How deadly this entire situation could have become.
Despite his struggle to keep moving, his attention shifts between me and Drazan. I know, though, he’s aware of everything.
I tighten my grip on the arm he has slung over my shoulders, encouraging him to lean on me more. He lets me without fighting it. Just… letting me.
“You with me?” I ask quietly, just for him.
His breath catches, then evens out.
“Yes.” A beat. Then, “Always.”
