“We need to know more than enough.”
“Sera.”
One word. Low. Not command exactly. Worse. Concern wearing command’s armor. I lift my eyes.
“Do not start,” I say, keeping my voice level and even.
“I have not started.”
“You’re preparing to start.”
“Yes.”
“At least lie,” I say.
“No.”
“Infuriating.”
“Yes.”
I pull the map free with more force than necessary, because the map deserves some blame for existing. I unfold the corner showing the western rim, the third expected sign, the quiet place.
The quiet place sits east of our line like a thought I should not think. The third sign is near it. The one we agreed not to approach until we understood why the first failed. And right now we understand nothing.
Nothing except no glow, black veins, and a rhythm that belongs to something that should not exist in old tunnels. My stomach twists. Food sounds impossible, and that is how I know I need it.
Kavor crouches across from me, careful with his wings under the low stone. He should look ridiculous folded into shade too small for him, but he doesn’t. He looks carved for impossible places. Dark scales. Controlled claws. Eyes tracking my hands, not my face, as if the truth might be hiding in what I do before I decide what to say.
I reach into the food wrap. Dried meat. Seed mash. Two hard root strips. One strip of something pale that might have been edible before Tajss taught it humility. I sort automatically.
Larger piece to Kavor. Smaller to me. Root strip split unevenly. Seed mash divided in a way that looks fair, as long as no onestares too long. Water after, not before, because water before food tricks the stomach into thinking it has been promised kindness.
Kavor says nothing, but I feel him watching, so I keep my hands steady.
One portion. Another. Calculated. Clean. Efficient. There. Done. I push the larger share toward him. He looks at it. Then at mine. Then at me.
“No.”
The word is quiet. I smile without warmth.
“You haven’t heard what I’m offering.”
“I have seen enough,” he says.
“You’re larger.”
“Yes.”
“You carry more water.”
“Yes.”
“You’re stronger if something comes out of one of those tunnels to eat us.”
“Yes.”
I shove his portion closer. “Then your body is the better investment.”
