Rythar doesn’t look at me. He snaps a command in Xythean, sharp enough that the technician visibly startles.
The technician swallows, then speaks to me.
“Rythar wishes me to explain to you. This translator is not neural,” he says quickly. “Not implanted in the brain. It is a subdermal translation patch—standard for off-world visitors. There is no cognitive access. Rythar generously makes thisoption available to you even though you are Starfallen and not a visitor.”
He gestures to the skin just behind his own ear. “I will put it behind your ear. Once in place, you will not notice it, but it is temporary and removable. I highly suggest you agree to this arrangement.”
Rythar looks down at me. “You hear,” he says.
I hesitate, heart racing, weighing his grip, the tech’s fear, the way they’re waiting formyreaction.
Finally, I nod.
Rythar releases me immediately.
The technician moves fast now, eager to be done. He presses the patch to the skin just behind my ear. There’s a brief sting—more surprise than pain—followed by a spreading coolness.
I speak?—
“When does it start to work?”
The words come out smooth, perfectly shaped. My mouth forms the alien syllables even while I think in my own language.
The technician exhales in relief.
Rythar studies my face, intent and searching, like he’s hearing my real voice for the first time.
The technician stows his equipment and departs in a hurry. I test the translator, allowing my irritation to bleed into my tone. “I'm not happy about this.” The words flow smoothly from the device, but my thoughts remain distinctly my own.
Rythar raises an eyebrow. “It is removable. And avoids misunderstanding.”
“Avoids misunderstanding,” I repeat. “Not captivity.”
Rythar looks down at me with burning eyes. “Custody.”
The word lands like a shackle snapping shut. If I’m shackled to him anyway, then I’m getting the truth out of him. I cut straight to the point. “Vorak released the serpent-panther, didn’t he?”
His expression doesn't change, but I catch a twitch in his jaw. A hint of his own anger bubbles under the surface.
“Yes. I will deal with him when I am ready.”
“When you are ready?” I step closer instead of backing away. My shoulder nearly brushes his chest. His skin is still warm from sleep. “He released a weapon into your territory. Into your jungle. And I’m supposed to wait while you decide what mood you’re in?”
His chest muscles flex as his arms move. “I choose when blood is drawn.”
“And in the meantime?” I press.
“You stay with me.”
“That’s convenient. Ex O Drenz said I’ll never leave the Reach now.” My voice is steady. “Because I cured you.”
His focus snaps into something lethal, eyes narrowing. “You still do not understand the danger of leaving?”
“I want to see Sophia,” I continue. “Especially if she’s in thecustodyof a male who releases serpent-panthers. I want to see every woman from New Terra. Today.”
“No lord would bring his Starfallen into another’s biome.” His mouth sets. “And you cannot communicate with them again.”
“Why—” I stop. Twenty women from another planet. Of course we’re kept where these control freaks can’t compare notes.
