Page 27

F irst light found us moving carefully down the ridge toward the clearing where we hoped to intercept the patrol. The rock face was slick with morning dew, treacherous under our exhausted feet. Ravik leaned heavily against me, his condition worse after the fitful night’s rest.

His skin burned against mine with a fever that had intensified during the night, and the golden lifelines beneath his skin shifted erratically. We were running out of time.

“You remember the signal?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. His breath came in short, shallow pants that betrayed the effort it took him to remain upright.

I nodded, visualizing the distinctive pattern he’d taught me during the night—a combination of energy modulation and light frequency that would identify us to the Eastern Nyxari. “Three short bursts, pause, one long.”

“They will approach with caution,” he warned, wincing as his foot slipped on a loose stone. I tightened my grip around his waist, feeling the heat of his fever through the torn fabric of his garment. “Eastern Nyxari will not expect to find one of the Shadow Canyon clan in these territories.”

The implications hung unspoken between us. Ravik would be viewed with suspicion not only because of his clan’s isolationist reputation but because of his close bond with me—a marked human.

Whatever prejudices he had overcome, others of his kind might still harbor them.

We reached the clearing as the twin suns crested the distant mountains, casting double shadows across the open ground.

Morning mist clung to the low vegetation, creating an ethereal landscape of veiled shapes and diffused light.

The beauty of this alien world still struck me at unexpected moments, even after everything we’d endured.

“There,” Ravik murmured, indicating a flicker of movement at the western edge of the clearing. His tail twitched slightly, the motion almost imperceptible but enough to signal his awareness. “They are maintaining cover at the treeline.”

I eased him down to sit against a boulder, its surface cool and rough beneath my palms. His weight shifted reluctantly from me, as though his body protested the separation. I could feel his pain spike as he settled against the stone through our bond.

“I’ll signal from there,” I said, pointing to a flat rock formation near the center of the clearing. Morning light bounced off its crystalline surface, creating prisms of color. “You rest.”

His golden eyes held mine, concern evident in their depths. The fever had given them an unnatural brightness that would have been beautiful if it weren’t so worrying. “Be careful. They may not understand what they see.”

I touched his face briefly, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. The contact sent a wave of shared sensation through our bond—his pain, his fear for me, his determination.

“I’ll make them understand.”

Moving into the open felt like exposing myself to sniper fire after days of hiding, but I forced myself forward, scanning the tree line for movement as I crossed the dew-wet grass.

My boots left dark impressions behind me, marking my path to the stone formation.

The rock was surprisingly warm beneath my palms as I climbed onto its flat surface, positioning myself for maximum visibility.

I concentrated on the signal Ravik had taught me, channeling energy through my silver markings in the pattern: three short bursts of light, followed by a pause, then one long pulse.

The effort sent tendrils of heat through my veins, not painful but intense, like channeling electricity through my nervous system. I could feel the energy building, flowing, releasing in the pattern I visualized.

Silence fell across the clearing after my signal. The usual sounds of the forest—the chittering of small, six-limbed creatures, the rustle of wind through alien vegetation—seemed to pause, as if the world itself were holding its breath. I repeated the signal, putting more power behind it.

The effort sent a spike of pain through my temples, but I maintained the pattern, feeling sweat bead on my forehead with the exertion.

Movement at the forest edge caught my attention.

Three Nyxari warriors emerged from the undergrowth, tall and imposing, their movements betraying a predatory grace that no human could match.

They weren’t from Ravik’s clan—their skin tones ranged from deep emerald to midnight blue, and they wore the distinctive armor of the Eastern Settlement, organic-looking plates that seemed to flow with their movements rather than restrict them.

The leader stepped forward, studying me with clear suspicion.

His tail shifted in a pattern that communicated wariness to his companions—a quick side-to-side motion ending in a slight upward curve that Ravik had once explained signaled caution.

The warriors flanked their leader, weapons held ready—long, curved blades that appeared to be made of a metal-crystal composite, catching the light with an iridescent gleam.

“I am Zara Graydon,” I called out, keeping my hands visible, palms showing the silver markings that had spread across them. “I’ve escaped from Hammond’s compound with a wounded warrior. We need your help.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed, their golden color more amber-toned than Ravik’s pure metallic shade. His lifelines moved subtly beneath his emerald skin. “Where is this warrior?”

I turned slightly, indicating the boulder where Ravik sat slumped. From this distance, his blue skin was clearly visible against the gray stone, marking him immediately as different from these warriors. “There. He’s severely injured. He taught me your signal.”

The warriors conferred briefly, their voices too low for me to hear, though their tails moved in patterns that seemed to communicate as much as their words. Finally, the leader approached, his movements fluid but cautious, his companions flanking him with weapons still ready.

The vibration of their steps on the ground triggered a sympathetic response in my markings, a subtle resonance I hadn’t experienced with humans.

“I am Nirako, second to Hunt Leader Lazrin,” he said, his deep voice carrying easily across the clearing.

The translation stone around his neck pulsed faintly as he spoke, converting his native language to one I could understand.

“You claim to be from Hammond’s camp, yet you bear the silver markings. How do we know this is not a trap?”

“Because we risked everything to escape,” I replied, fighting to keep my voice steady as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me.

The stone beneath me seemed to tilt slightly, and I widened my stance to maintain balance.

“Hammond has been experimenting on your people using crystal shards from the ruins. Ravik was his prisoner.”

We destroyed his laboratory during our escape, but Hammond survived. He’ll rebuild.

“We have information your council needs.”

Nirako’s gaze traveled over my extensive markings, which were far more developed than when I’d first awakened with them after the crash.

Where they had once been faint silver lines beneath the skin of my arms, they now formed intricate patterns across my entire body, visible even through clothing when activated.

“These patterns... they are more developed than those I have seen on other human females.”

“They changed during our escape. I can interface with the ancient technology now—it’s how we got out.

” I didn’t mention the cost—the searing headaches, the moments of sensory overload when too much data flooded through the connection.

“When I interfaced with Hammond’s crystals, something. .. awakened.”

A flicker of recognition passed over Nirako’s face. “Like the Sound-Seer. The one called Jen.”

Hope surged through me at the familiar name. “Yes! Jen’s at the Eastern Settlement? We’re trying to reach it.”

Nirako signaled to his companions, a complex gesture involving both hands and a tail movement I couldn’t interpret. The warriors lowered their weapons slightly, though their posture remained alert. “Show us this warrior.”

I led them to Ravik, feeling the weight of their stares between my shoulder blades as we crossed the clearing.

The dew had begun to burn off in the morning heat, steam rising from the vegetation to create a shimmering haze.

Ravik had managed to straighten himself despite his obvious pain, one hand braced against the boulder for support.

His tail was positioned in what I’ve come to recognize as a formal greeting posture, though it trembled with the effort.

The patrol’s reaction was immediate. All three warriors stopped short, their eyes widening at the sight of Ravik’s blue skin and distinctive clan markings. Their tails went rigid with surprise, then moved in rapid patterns I couldn’t follow.

“Shadow Canyon,” Nirako breathed, the words carrying a weight I could feel even without understanding their full significance. “I thought your kind never left the western territories.”

“Circumstances... have changed,” Ravik replied, his voice stronger than it had been all morning, pride clearly driving him to show strength before his fellow warriors.

His lifelines briefly strengthened despite his weakened condition.

“Hammond captured me while I patrolled the border of our sacred grounds. He seeks the Nexus key.”

The words meant nothing to me, but they clearly impacted the patrol. Nirako’s tail went rigid with alarm, and his companions exchanged glances of clear concern.

“The human knows of this?” he demanded, his posture shifting to higher alert.

“He has fragments of knowledge, corrupted by his paranoia,” Ravik said, his breathing becoming more labored with the effort of speaking formally. “But his experiments draw closer to success. He must be stopped before he destabilizes more of the environmental systems.”

Nirako approached, studying Ravik’s wounds with a warrior’s experienced eye.

His expression shifted from suspicion to grim assessment as he took in the extent of the damage—the deep lacerations from the guardian automaton, the energy weapon burns, the signs of infection spreading through the tissue.

“You need immediate medical attention,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “The settlement is two days’ journey, but we have a communication relay at our patrol camp. We can call for transport.”

Relief washed over me so intensely that my legs nearly gave out. I steadied myself against the boulder, feeling the rough surface scrape my palm. Through our bond, I felt Ravik’s answering wave of emotion—gratitude, hope, and lingering worry about what awaited us at the settlement.

Nirako turned to me, his expression guarded but no longer openly suspicious. “Your connection to this warrior... it appears to be a bond. Is this correct?”

I glanced at Ravik, unsure how to answer, but he spoke before I could formulate a response.

“We are bonded,” he stated simply, his golden eyes meeting Nirako’s without wavering despite the fever that burned through him. “It was... unexpected. But it is true.”

The patrol warriors exchanged looks I couldn’t interpret, a silent communication passing between them.

Finally, Nirako nodded, his tail making a fluid motion that seemed to indicate acceptance, if not understanding.

“The Council will want to hear of this. It is... unprecedented for one of the Shadow Canyon clan.”

Two warriors constructed a stretcher from branches and their cloaks while Nirako made a call on a device that resembled the communication crystals I’d seen in Hammond’s lab, but more elegant, better integrated with organic components.

The crystal glowed with internal light as he spoke into it, his words too quiet for me to hear.

When they carefully moved Ravik onto the stretcher, I felt his pain spike through our bond, sharp and bright like shattered glass. I moved to his side instinctively, taking his hand. The contact soothed both of us.

The patrol noticed, their expressions ranging from curiosity to discomfort at this visible manifestation of our connection.

“The transport will meet us by nightfall,” Nirako said, returning to where we waited. “We should move immediately. These territories are still dangerous.”

As the warriors lifted Ravik’s stretcher, I walked alongside, maintaining contact with him. His fingers curled around mine, his grip weaker than before but determined. Through our bond flowed mutual relief, but also apprehension about what awaited us at the Eastern Settlement.

Ravik would be an anomaly among his own kind, just as I was among mine. Both of us existed now in an unprecedented middle ground—no longer fully part of our original peoples, but something new. But at least we would face whatever came next together, away from Hammond’s shadow.

The thought sent a chill through me despite the warmth of the day. Hammond had survived. He would rebuild.

And he wouldn’t stop hunting us—not after what we’d taken from him, not after what we knew. His obsession with the markings, with controlling the ancient technology, would only have intensified after our escape.

But for now, rescue was at hand. Ravik would receive the medical care he desperately needed. We would find safety, if only temporarily.

The next challenge would come soon enough. For now, I focused on the path ahead, on the steady presence of Ravik through our bond, and on putting one foot in front of the other.

One step at a time.