"It explains a lot," she murmured. Then it hit her.
A call. A vibration in the bones that had nothing to do with sound, resonating through the gold thread that she was now understanding, connected all Shadowguard, the living and the dead, carrying to them in a voice she recognized she’d known her whole life.We’re all connected. Join us. Fight.
She'd never been called before. The Shadowguard weren’t just a CIA Division. She longed to speak with their direction, Silas Creed. Had he felt everything that had happened, and was it driving him mad? Were they part of a legacy that walked between worlds? But the wave of energy, Flash and Lechuza, the font responding to their union, had opened something in her, too. She was Shadowguard now, whether she'd chosen it or not. They all were.
"The framer," she said, her voice steadier than her hands. "Eva. She’s not natural."
"No, she’s not.” Komodo looked at Tex. “How is Lechuza important to this fight?"
“End-of-the-world important,” Tex confirmed. "Without her, Chaos wins, and we all lose…everything."
“Explain,” Komodo said.
* * *
The bond hummedto life in Fly's chest, a vibration that was intention, Tex's voice carrying across the golden thread like a plucked wire.
Reavers know. Working on containment.
Fly leaned against the moss-slick boulder, the Peruvian cloud forest breathing around him in shades of green and shadow. Twister sat on the ground nearby, his back against a fallen log, head in his hands. Easy paced a three-step track in the leaf litter, his jaw working. In Flash’s haste to get to Lechuza, he’d stranded them here, but he was sure they’d be back.
Acknowledged,Fly sent back, the words forming as golden light behind his eyes.We're working a problem here. Stand by.
He pushed off the boulder. His boots sank into humus that squelched, releasing the smell of rot and renewal.
Twister's head came up, eyes clearing. “Tex will handle it."
"I have no doubt." Fly pulled his canteen, drank, the water metallic and warm. "We focus on our piece."
The air tore open ten meters downslope, a golden seam widening into a corridor that folded light and ozone. Flash stumbled through first, hauling Lechuza by the hand. They were wrecked, leaves in their hair, mud smeared across their skin, her shirt torn at the shoulder. They looked like they'd crawled through war. Through time.
Fly capped his canteen. "What happened?"
Lechuza found a sapling to lean on, her knuckles white against the bark. "We were so close." Her voice was stripped bare. "The font almost opened. We could see the Veil, the threshold, everything. And then..." She looked at Flash, her throat working. "His scar started bleeding, but it wasn’t real. Everything shut down."
Fly's eyes tracked to Flash's side, the same wound that had killed Cisco five centuries ago. The Veil was trying to tell them something.
"We keep at it," Fly said. "We find another angle, another?—"
"There's more." Lechuza's face contorted, tears gathering and spilling without her permission. She looked at Flash, her mouth opening, closing, the words fighting her. "These aren't echoes. These are memories." Her hand found Flash's, their fingers interlacing with a desperation that transcended the present moment. "Our memories. We are Quri and Cisco. We are them now, not descendants."
The silence that followed had weight, texture, the density of history settling into the cloud forest like mist.
Fly absorbed the way they stood together. “That explains that paradox.” The data aligned, and that was hope.
“I don’t think anything going forward is ever going to surprise me again,” Easy growled.
"Okay," Fly said. The word was small, inadequate, but it was a foothold. "At least that's more information than we had before. Let me work the scar. But it will have to wait.”
He looked upslope toward the sanctuary, then down toward where the forest dissolved into cloud. “Why? Do we have another pressing problem?” Lechuza said.
"Yeah," he said, "we need to corridor to the Eyrie. The Reavers know we've been protecting you."
Lechuza stiffened, her spine straightening, the warrior reassembling herself from the wreckage. "And?"
Fly met her eyes and let a smile touch his mouth, his strategist's grin, the Visionary's certainty that there was always a move. "Tex is explaining. We've got to nix this or get them on our side. End of the world takes priority over jurisdiction." He gestured at the tear in reality, still shimmering gold behind them. "We leave now." Lechuza's breath released, Flash's arm settled protectively around her shoulders, and Twister and Easy rose from their positions to assemble.
* * *
