He doesn't answer right away. His jaw works. He looks at the pool, not at me. "Because if you want to leave, you will find a way to leave."
“Hey,” I say. “I’m not leaving. I don’t want to leave. Do you trust me?”
His eyes fix on mine. One corner of his mouth quirks up. “If I did not trust you, I would not have let you in the heart of my jungle. And I would not let you leave it. I could have hidden you deep in the jungle from your first day here. Never let you see another soul besides me. It would have kept you safe. You never would have gone to Vorak. Or the High Lord.”
“But you didn’t do that,” I say.
“No,” Rythar says.
He stands at the edge of the pool, silent, watching the surface swirl.
“If you can learn to use this, you can see what I see. You can add my network to yours. Try it, Elena.”
“What do I do?”
He shrugs. “The first time, I just sat next to it and did it. It is a gift from the Stone. One I now hope to share with my mate.”
Condensation clings to my hairline and trickles down my neck. I sit cross-legged at the edge of the pool, hands pressed to the stone. The bride mark on my finger throbs in sync with the heartbeat of the chamber.
This was never just about me.
I let my fingers touch the water, and close my eyes. The world tilts sideways, then blurs, then disappears. All that’s left is the sound of my heartbeat and the soft, wet rhythm of the jungle life. The Green Reach. But it’s too big. Rythar is there, holding it for me now. Our minds touch. Then I pull back and reach outward, beyond the Green Reach.
I reach for Sophia first. I picture the old security uniform, the way she’d stand with her arms folded and a look that could stop a general. I imagine the smell of gun oil. The connection snaps into place.
If the connection to the Reach is a warm pool of green, Sophia’s mind is a pinpoint of light. I feel her before I hear her, like a tightness behind my eyes. I brush the tips of her thoughts softly. I don’t know where she is, or if she can take this. She’s tense, having to be braver than any of us want to be, but she’s okay.
Then Maya. Her presence is smaller, more distant, but I catch a flash of her. She’s alive. Jarrett is too close to her.
Who to try next?
Dana. I felt her spark before.
I find her pinprick of light and push towards her. The temperature in the chamber jumps. My ears ring. I push more, reaching, reaching?—
And hit a wall.
I lean in, trying to force the connection, and the wall hits back, flooding my brain with static.
I gasp. My hands spasm, nails digging into the vines. Sweat beads on my forehead, blurring my vision. I hear the echo of Dana’s voice, but it’s scrambled. On the other side of that wall, something waits. Watching.
The High Lord is there. His attention presses on the bond, pinning me like a doll under a heavy rug. I try to pull back, but I’m locked in.
I can’t breathe. My hands shake. My chest hurts.
I don’t notice Rythar until he’s at my side, arms wrapping around me, one hand braced on the back of my neck, the other crushing my fingers in his grip.
“Stop,” he says, voice raw. “You have to stop.”
I try to pull my mind back, but I’m trapped under the mental rug.
He lifts me, cradling me against his chest.
“You’re burning,” he mutters. He strokes my hair, words rumbling into my skull. “You have to let go. Let it go.”
I need to know what happened to Dana.
He rocks me like I’m a child with a fever. My breath comes in gasps, every inhale harder than the last.
