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Real fear gripped him now, cold and sharp as the edge of a sand serpent's tooth. Where was she? And why did every instinct he possessed scream that something was deeply wrong?

He closed his eyes, centering himself as he'd been taught in warrior training, and sent his consciousness outward, searching for the now-familiar pulse of Linnea's mind. If she was in danger, he would sense it—he was certain of that much. Their connection had grown stronger with each passing day, each shared touch, each coupling.

At first, there was nothing—just the dull hum of numerous minds, too distant or too unfamiliar to read clearly. Then, faintly, he caught it: the slightest thread of determination, a steady resolve that could only belong to Linnea. Not fear, not pain, just…purpose.

She wasn't in immediate danger, then. But where was she? And what was she doing?

He couldn't read her mind clearly enough to know her location or to send his own thoughts to her, as he might with a fellow Dothvek. The connection between them was profound but still somehow limited—perhaps by her Crestek lineage that had abandoned empathic powers, perhaps by his own inexperience with this type of bond.

Frustration surged through him as he stormed from her quarters, nearly colliding with a figure rounding the corner at the same moment.

"Ambassador!" K’Nar stumbled back, steadying himself against the wall. "I've been looking for you."

He regarded the Crestek warily, even though he felt sure the adjunct was an ally. "Where is she?"

K’Nar glanced down the corridor, then took his arm with surprising boldness, pulling him back into Linnea’s quarters. "I'm the one on the inside," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The one they told you about in the city."

His eyes widened. He could only be referring to the resistance members he'd encountered in the alley—information no one else could possibly know unless...

Zexx’s hunch had been right. "You're part of the underground movement. You've been working against the traitors in the council all along."

K’Nar nodded, a grim smile briefly crossing his face. "For longer than you might imagine. But there's no time for that now. The chancellor has gone to send a message to the Dothveks."

"What? The oasis village is days away across the desert. She couldn't possibly—"

"Not those Dothveks," K’Nar cut in, his voice tight. "The ones on the bounty hunter ship. The ones with the human mates."

Zexx blinked, momentarily stunned. Of course—the Dothveks who had left the planet with their bounty hunters. The warriors who had found mates among the human and alien females and chosen to travel the stars with them. He had once looked askance at them, believing they had abandoned their ways for foreign pleasures. Now, he understood them all too well—and would be grateful for their presence if they could help protect Linnea.

But even as hope flickered, pragmatism doused it. "They might not be close enough to help," he said. "We can't count on them arriving in time."

"Which is why we need to get to the chancellor immediately," K’Nar agreed. "The communications hub is at the top of the northern tower, and she went alone—against my advice. I created a diversion to give her time, but she insisted on sending the transmission herself.”

"Take me to her," Zexx said, already moving from the room.

Instead of leading him to the ground level exit as he expected, K’Nar guided him down, past the exit and into the foundations of the tower itself. The air grew cooler and damper as they descended, the stone walls slick with moisture that gleamed in the light of the occasional torch.

"The old passageways," K’Nar explained as they entered a narrow tunnel. "Built when the city was first constructed, when the sandstorms raged and before the buildings grew so tall. The web of them extends beneath the city still, but few remember they are here.”

The pair moved quickly through the passage, which eventually connected to another tunnel leading upward. The climb was steep, the light fading to blackness and the air growing thinner as they ascended what felt like hundreds of steps carved directly into the stone.

“For the first time, I miss those infernal ramps,” Zexx grumbled.

“This is a hidden stairwell that runs up the back of the tower. Do not fear. This tower also contains a ramp.”

Zexx smothered a dark laugh as he pressed his hands to the walls to guide himself up in the pitch blackness. If he survived long enough to reach the sands, he swore he would never take the open skies for granted again.

By the time they emerged, pushing a heavy stone door to exit the cramped stairwell, they were both breathing heavily. K’Nar motioned up and they walked the last of the interior ramp until they were at the very top of what he realized must be the northern tower, facing a doorway guarded by two Cresteks in gray robes.

The guards straightened at their approach, their brows furrowing in confusion, likely because they hadn’t heard the pair walking up the ram pfrom the bottom of the tower.

"The ambassador wishes to speak with the chancellor," K’Nar said smoothly. "A matter of diplomatic importance."

"The chancellor insisted on privacy for her transmission," one of the guards replied, his gaze darting suspiciously between them. "She said she was not to be disturbed for any reason."

The other guard was staring at him with undisguised hostility. "What's the Dothvek doing here anyway? I thought he was—”

The first guard cut him off with a sharply cleared throat then glanced uneasily at the door. “Perhaps we should check on the Chancellor.”