Her mouth twitches. “That one may require murder.”
“No.”
“Useful no or moral no?”
“Both.”
“Unfortunate.”
I rewrap the wound more tightly, adding a strip from my kit. My hands shake once. She sees, but she says nothing. Mercy withteeth. When I finish, I offer water. She drinks without argument. That frightens me.
Then she says, “Do not look proud. I am too tired to fight a skin of water.”
Better. I help her stand. This time, when I lift her into my arms, she does not pretend she can walk.
“I can still order people while carried,” she says.
“I believe that.”
“Good.”
The passage above us cracks. Fresh air spills through. Voices. Close.
Virn’s voice. Then Ila’s. A shout from Penr. The scrape of stone being moved. They are trying to open the lower access.
The old rhythm pulses beneath us. Once. Pause. Again. The network is not done. The zemlja below us turns. Not away. Toward.
“We move now,” I say.
Sera’s hand rests against my chest, over the absence. The proof is not there. For a moment, grief flashes through her face. I understand. The proof is safe. But it is no longer with us. Another separation. Another trust.
“They have it,” I say.
“Virn better still have all his fingers.”
“He will.”
“Because he is careful?”
“Because Rosalind will remove them if he is not careful.”
A small laugh escapes her. It is weak. It is everything.
I carry her up the passage as the tunnel narrows and climbs. Stone breaks under my claws. Heat grows. Human voices sharpen.
Above us, the City waits. With hunger. With politics. With hands ready to take what we found and call it survival.
Below us, the old system watches.
Behind us, the zemlja moves.
In my arms, Sera breathes. Alive. Not mine. Not yet. Not because fear demands it. Not because the bond reaches. Not because the world is breaking.
When she is mine, it will be because she stands whole enough to choose it and because I am strong enough to receive that choice without closing my hand around it.
The passage opens. Light spills down. Not blue. Torchlight. City light.
Virn’s silhouette appears above, wings spread over the gap. Ila shouts Sera’s name. Penr sobs something I cannot understand. Sera lifts her head from my shoulder. Duty returns to her eyes before the dust clears.
