Drenz frowns faintly. “Muted?”
“Yes.” I press a hand to my chest, as though I could show him what lives there now. “Like the connection I have with him is being interfered with. What if something is wrong with him?”
He taps his comm-band, jaw tightening. His fingers move quickly, pulling up tactical feeds I cannot see. “I have been receiving reports from the Warlord and from the units with him,” he says. “They are advancing. They are intact.”
“Put him on.”
Drenz’s brow furrows. He adjusts the band again. “The direct line is not responding.”
Ice slides down my spine.
“But you just said?—”
“I am receiving updates relayed through secondary units,” he says evenly. “Signal distortion is common in the outer canopy during intrusions.”
“That means something is wrong, Drenz.”
He eyes me warily. “It’s a common method of causing confusion,” he says reluctantly.
I squeeze my fists so tight that my nails dig into my palms. "Drenz." I step close enough that he has to look down at me. "Take me to him."
"No."
"Something is wrong."
"The Warlord cannot be defeated in his biome." He says it the way someone recites a prayer they've said too many times. "I will relay your message. Eat. Rest." The look on his face says he will stand in this doorway until one of us dies of old age.
I close the door and pace. Count breaths. Watch the light crawl across the far wall. The food grows cold. I lie on the bed and reach for Rythar through the bond. Nothing. Reach for Sophia. Nothing.
I exhaust myself with mental effort and doze.
The alarms rip me out of sleep. I rush to the door.
Drenz is already there. "Command center," he says. "Now. With me."
CHAPTER 27
A PACIFICATION MEASURE
ELENA – RYTHAR’S FORTRESS IN THE GREEN REACH
The fortress isat maximum alert. The alarms are pulsing, red lights around every doorway, and warriors are everywhere. Despite my occasional stumble as I take in what’s happening, Drenz’s boots strike the corridor stones with metronome certainty. He walks fast, but he slows when I slow, careful to keep me close.
I’m terrified enough to run, but my limbs are sluggish. It’s an aftereffect of straining for the connection to Sophia and Rythar.
Drenz made it clear that we wouldn’t speak until we reach the command center. Inside, half a dozen officers occupy their stations, but the center chair is empty until Drenz takes it. The warriors accept Drenz’s orders, but Rythar’s absence goes right to my heart.
The door hisses open. Three males step in, escorted by three of Rythar’s warriors. Their uniforms are a deep gray, collars stiff, and their movements are not combat military. I know the uniforms from the data feeds Rythar let me watch. The faces are new. I get a good look at them as they scan the room. I know they see me because they skillfully avoid looking directly at me. One carries a hard case, another a handheld tablet, and the lastcarries nothing. All keep their hands visible, their movements slow.
Drenz doesn’t bow or make introductions. He acknowledges them with the bare minimum of Xytheos civility. “You arrive unannounced.”
“Precedent allows intervention in a systemwide threat,” says the lead. His voice is flat, precise. “The Green Reach has a vulnerability.”
Drenz’s face is a study in tension. “You were expected to coordinate with the Warlord, not bypass protocol.”
“We received his message. We are following emergency protocols.” The man flicks his gaze to me. “The preservation of a Starfallen female requires it.”
He sets his case on the table, opens it, and projects a topographic map of Xytheos. Red marks blossom across the Green Reach. Drenz’s jaw tightens. I scan the image. The red marks aren’t enemy positions—they’re civilian settlements.
