Page 27

“Or destroy it, and this planet with it.”

Ravik’s voice held the gravity of generations of protectors. The golden lifelines visible along his neck seemed alive with his heightened emotion. “My clan has defended against this specific threat for centuries.”

A small vent in the upper corner of our cell cycled on, bringing in a fresh draft of air that carried the mineral scent of the deeper ruins. I shivered slightly as the cooler air touched my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms where the silver markings traced complex patterns.

I paced our small cell, three steps each way, mind working through possibilities. The floor grating transmitted the distanthum of Hammond’s drilling operation. Each step sent small vibrations up through my feet, the ancient structure beneath us protesting the violation.

“We need to stop him,” I said, my eyes finding the weakened section of wall plating we’d been secretly working on during our weeks of captivity. “And we need to get out of here to do it.”

Ravik followed my gaze, giving a nearly imperceptible nod. His hand moved to the hidden cache where we’d stored the crude tools we’d fashioned from broken equipment during our work details—a twisted piece of metal, a sharpened fragment of crystalline material that could cut through the deteriorating sections of the old base.

“The next tremor sequence could provide the cover we need,” he said, his voice barely audible. He inclined his head toward the wall, where a hairline crack had been spreading for days, coinciding with Hammond’s increasingly aggressive drilling patterns. “The structural integrity is weakening precisely where we need it to.”

I knelt beside the pallet that concealed our work, running my fingers along the edge of the floor plate we’d loosened. “The security systems are taxed during the drilling cycles. Fewer functional sensors, guards distracted by equipment malfunctions.”

Ravik moved to kneel beside me, his larger frame radiating warmth in our chilled cell. “The ventilation maintenance shafts beyond this section haven’t been properly secured. They lead toward the old emergency exit tunnels my clan mapped generations ago.”

His proximity sent a cascade of sensations through my markings—not the painful burning from our early days together, but a pleasant resonance, like components designed to work in harmony. I wondered if his lifelines felt a similar response.

“If we time it with the next major drilling phase,” I whispered, leaning closer so our shoulders almost touched, “we might make it past the perimeter before they realize we’re gone.”

Ravik nodded, his golden eyes reflecting the dim emergency lighting. “We have one advantage Hammond does not understand—my clan has monitored these ruins for generations. I know paths and weak points he has not discovered.”

He drew another symbol on the floor between us—different from the earlier ones. The charcoal dust contrasted against his blue fingertip. “This is the Shadow Canyon trail marker. If we become separated, follow these signs. They will lead you to safety.”

The symbol looked like a stylized mountain range with a lightning bolt through its center—simple enough to recognize quickly, yet distinctive. I committed it to memory, tracing it mentally against the pattern of my markings.

“How far to the Eastern Settlement from here?” I asked, calculating our odds. We’d need water, would face environmental hazards, predators.

“Five days, perhaps six, accounting for Hammond’s search parties and natural barriers.” His tail moved in a thoughtful pattern against the floor. “There is a Shadow Canyon outpost three days east that could provide shelter and supplies.”

We spent the next hour refining the plan, speaking in whispers, heads bent close together. The soft sounds of our breathing mingled in the small space between us. Occasionally, when our ideas aligned perfectly, I felt a pleasant warmth, as if recognizing the synchronicity of our thoughts.

We went over the guard rotations, the drilling schedule, the layout of the ventilation system based on our observations during work details. Each detail needed to be perfect; we would only get one chance. Ravik’s memory for spatial relationships impressed me—he could recall the exact positioning of everyguard station, camera, and drone patrol we’d encountered during our forced labor.

For moments at a time, I would forget we were captives—forget he wasn’t human—as our minds worked together with surprising effectiveness. There was something intensely satisfying about planning with someone whose intellect matched your own, whose strengths complemented your weaknesses.

The distant sound of the guard patrol returning brought our planning session to an end. The rhythmic thud of boots on metal grating grew louder, accompanied by the electronic whine of the security drones that always accompanied them. Ravik’s ears—slightly pointed at the tips and more mobile than human ones—twitched at the sound before I could even hear it.

As Ravik erased the last of our markings from the floor, his tail briefly touched my ankle—the contact brief but deliberate, an acknowledgment of our partnership. The smooth scales were warm against my skin, sending a small shiver up my leg. Whatever strange connection had formed between us through proximity and shared danger, it made us stronger together.

We moved to our respective sleeping pallets, assuming the positions of disinterested prisoners just as the guards passed. As I lay facing the wall, I could feel Ravik’s presence across the small cell—the subtle heat he generated, the measured rhythm of his breathing, the occasional soft sound of his tail moving against the floor.

Tomorrow, we would make our move.

I only hoped the bond forming between me and him would be enough to stop Hammond before he unleashed something that could destroy us all.

RAVIK

Beneath my feet, I detected the subtle vibrations of energy being siphoned from systems dormant for centuries—wrong, dangerous, a desecration that made my clan markings burn with ancestral outrage.

Particles hung suspended in the air, illuminated by the artificial lighting like tiny stars in a confined universe. The contrasting temperatures—cold air from the ventilation system meeting the heat generated by Hammond’s equipment—created visible currents in the dusty air.

Beside me, Zara kept her head down, pretending to struggle with a heavy crate of conduit fittings. Her slight frame appeared frail compared to the Nyxari females I knew, but I had learned not to misjudge her strength or her determination. The weeks of captivity had hardened her in ways that spoke to my warrior’s sensibilities—mental fortitude forged through adversity.

Her scent—human sweat mixed with the metallic note unique to marked ones—had become familiar, almost reassuring in its consistency. I could detect subtle changes in that scent now; the slight increase in the metallic element told me her markings were active, responding to the ancient technology surrounding us.

Around us, Hammond’s guards stood at irregular intervals, weapons ready, eyes constantly scanning for signs of rebellion. Their breath clouded in the cool air of the excavation chamber, creating brief ghosts that dissipated into the artificial atmosphere. Drones patrolled overhead, their mechanical buzz competing with the ominous hum of the drilling equipment.