Page 77 of The Warlord's Secret Heir

Hell, it’s probably a hallucination wrapped in a myth wrapped in a death sentence.

But it’s all I’ve got.

I find Kyldak near the fire pit, hammering armor plating onto one of the long-range crawlers. Sweat slicks his golden-scaled back. His cybernetic eye tracks me as I approach, sharp and unreadable.

I don’t waste time.

“I need to get to the Black Glass.”

He freezes.

Turns.

“You wantwhat?”

I toss the tablet onto the crate beside him. “Coordinates. Ruins. Precursor site.”

He stares. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“Probably. Still going.”

“That’s a no-go zone.”

“I’m aware.”

“They say the sand there melts armor. That the ground sings and people go mad.”

“I’m notpeople,” I snap.

His jaw tics.

“You’re serious,” he says finally.

“Deadly.”

He lifts the tablet, thumb brushing the edge. “You believe there’s tech out there?”

“I know it. And I think it might be a wormhole gate. Functional. Maybe enough to punch me off this rock.”

His eyes narrow. “So that’s it. You want off. You got what you needed and now you’re running.”

I flinch. “It’s not like that.”

He tosses the tablet back. “Feels like it.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why are youreallyhere, Jaela?”

My breath catches.

“Let me worry about that.”

“No.” He steps closer. “You drag me back from the edge. Take from me. Lie to me. Again. And now you’re asking me to walk into death sands for what—a hunch?”

My spine stiffens. “I didn’t lie.”

He laughs—cold and sharp. “Everything about you is a lie right now.”