“I’m already sitting.”
“You stood up.”
“Terrible habit.”
“Sera,” she says, her voice brisk but undeniable.
There’s the Lady General. The woman who commanded people through the end of a world and still somehow makes my spine straighten. I sit.
Adran folds his arms. “We need controlled access to the source. Guards. Engineers. Zmaj trackers. A team could be assembled within the hour.”
“No,” Kavor says.
Everyone turns.
Adran’s mouth tightens. “You do not command here either.”
“No,” Kavor says again. “But I understand zemlja.”
Virn nods once. “Zmaj do.”
Syin looks unhappy about agreeing, but he does not contradict him. Kavor points to the map I marked in the cavern.
“The zemlja is being positioned under the reservoir. The system may be using it to crack the source open. More bodies means more vibration. More blood means more signatures. More panic means more death.”
I watch him speak, hating how much I want to lean against him. Not because I’m weak. Because I’m tired. Because the room is full of hands reaching for the thing beneath us, and he is the only one still trying not to take.
Rosalind studies the map. “Then we seal access until we understand the network.”
Adran’s gaze sharpens. “Seal access to the only resource that might keep people alive?”
“It might also kill them,” Rosalind says.
“People are already dying.”
The words hit the room. They’re ugly because they’re true.
I feel every eye try not to turn toward the door, toward the hall, toward all the thin bodies waiting for someone powerful to decide whether hope can be measured in cups. I stand again.
Ila curses softly.
“I need to check on Lysa’s children,” I say.
“No,” Rosalind and Kavor say together.
The room goes very quiet. No. No, no, no. Not here. Not in front of everyone. Adran’s gaze flicks between them, then lands on me with surgical precision.
“Interesting,” he says.
Kavor’s stillness becomes lethal. Rosalind’s face closes. I laugh once, and it sounds awful.
“Not interesting,” I say. “Predictable. I just fell through a floor, and people with sense are temporarily pretending I’ll listen.”
Ila snorts, bless her. Adran does not look amused.
“Your arm is reacting to the samples. The system responded to your blood. The Zmaj says the bond was part of the pattern,” Adran says.
“The Zmaj has a name,” Kavor says.
