Page 35

The city sprawled before them, a busy square that was surrounded by a maze of stone buildings and crowded streets. Where would Zexx have gone? The market was directly ahead, a churning sea of bodies and colorful stalls. To their right, the administrative district housed another tower and various government offices as well as the homes of higher-ranking officials. To their left, the winding streets of the merchant quarter led eventually to the main gate.

She turned in a slow circle, panic rising in her throat. "Where do we even start looking?"

Zexx could be anywhere in this labyrinth. He could have wandered in any direction, and with each passing moment, the chances of finding him diminished. The thought of him alone in the city, potentially confronted by those who still harbored hatred for his people, made her chest constrict painfully.

K’Nar studied her face for a moment, then nodded as if coming to a decision. "This way," he said, gesturing toward a narrow street leading away from the main square. "If the ambassador wanted solitude, he would avoid the crowds."

She didn't question how K’Nar might know this, grateful simply to have a direction. They moved quickly, the hood of her cloak keeping her face in shadow as they wove through the throngs of people going about their daily business, oblivious to the chancellor in their midst or the crisis unfolding.

"He can't have gone far," she murmured, more to reassure herself than anything. "He's unfamiliar with the city."

"Which makes him more vulnerable," K’Nar replied grimly. "The outer districts can be... unwelcoming to strangers, especially those who look different."

The implication sent a fresh wave of anxiety through her. She quickened her pace, nearly overtaking K’Nar as they turned down another street, this one quieter and lined with smaller buildings.

"Are you certain this is the right way?" she asked, unable to keep the edge of desperation from her voice.

K’Nar hesitated, then nodded. "If I wanted to escape the tower and find peace, this is the path I would take."

She didn't have a better suggestion, so she followed, trying to quell the rising tide of fear. What if they couldn't find him? What if something had already happened? What if their last interaction remained those terrible, hurtful words she'd thrown at him in anger?

The thought was unbearable. Somewhere in the stone maze of the Crestek city, Zexx was alone and possibly in danger. And it was her fault.

She had to find him. Had to make this right.

Had to tell him that she believed him, that she was sorry, that she—

She cut the thought off abruptly. That she what? Cared for him? Needed him? Loved him?

None of it would matter if they couldn't find him in time.

ChapterTwenty-Eight

He stood motionless in the Crestek alley, every sense alert to the unseen presence watching him from the shadows. The narrow passage smelled of dank puddles and fetid rot, the close buildings trapping odors that made his nostrils flare in disgust. Water dripped somewhere nearby, a steady plink-plink-plink that marked time as he waited for whoever lurked in the darkness to reveal themselves.

He cursed his temper silently. Had he not been so blinded by rage after his confrontation with Linnea, he would never have wandered into this unfamiliar part of the city alone and unarmed. In the Dothvek village, such a mistake would be inconceivable—their tents arranged in patterns as familiar to him as the markings on his own skin, the open sands offering no hiding places for enemies to lurk, save those that dwelled beneath the surface. Here, the maze of stone passages and buildings so tall they cast long shadows even at midday created countless opportunities for ambush.

The weight of being watched pressed heavier with each heartbeat. Whoever they were, they were skilled at concealment—no scuff of a boot or rustle of fabric betrayed their position.

Patience had never been his strongest virtue. "Show yourself," he called, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Only cowards hide in shadows."

He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, adopting the fighting stance that had served him well in thetahaduritual. Even without weapons, he was far from defenseless. The formal Crestek tunic restricted his movement somewhat, but he could still fight if necessary.

“Just as we expected," a voice said from the darkness, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Two figures materialized from recessed doorways on either side of the alley, moving with the practiced stealth of those accustomed to avoiding notice. Both were male Cresteks, their hoods pushed back to reveal faces younger than he'd anticipated. They wore simple clothing, neither the elaborate garments of the elite nor the simpler attire of the lower classes—deliberately unremarkable, the kind of people who could move through crowds without drawing a second glance.

Despite their sudden appearance, his instinctive tension eased slightly. Even though he hadn’t often used his empathic abilities on others since arriving in the city, he sensed no malice from them—only curiosity and a strange mix of hope and caution.

"Who are you?" he demanded, remaining in his defensive stance. "What do you want with me?"

The taller of the two stepped forward, his hands raised to show they were empty. "We are friends," he said, his voice low but clear. "We are members of the resistance."

"The resistance?" He frowned, confused. "The group that fought for peace and reunification between our peoples? That resistance ended when the peace accord was signed."

A bitter smile crossed the shorter male's face. "One resistance ended. Another grows in its place."

He studied them more carefully, noting the way they positioned themselves to keep watch on both directions of the alley. These were not random citizens who had stumbled upon a Dothvek in their midst; he sensed they had been tracking him, waiting for an opportunity to make contact away from prying eyes.