Chapter 26 #2
The wall glitched again. The hospital flashed up, vanished, then came back hard enough that Daven’s attention caught on it before the tower could drag the room elsewhere. The same dark road cut through the feed beneath it. Kylix flickered out of one angle and reappeared in another.
“There,” Yure snapped. “The hospital again.”
Helianth moved toward the wall. “They’re doing it again.”
Yure swore and dragged two more windows open as the room crowded the screens, everyone following the tower where Concordant wanted them looking.
But Daven stayed locked on the hospital.
Glass pressed into his palm before he realized how hard he was gripping the bottle.
It wasn’t about the tower anymore, or the buyer.
No, this was about Ryneth.
Whatever mattered had already shifted somewhere else.
“Vandor,” he barked, already moving. “With me. Now.”
Vandor shoved off the wall immediately, not asking questions.
Moargan looked up sharply. “Daven—”
But Daven was already moving, Vandor at his back, and by the time anyone in the room seemed ready to argue, Ryneth had gone after him into the hallway, fingers locking around his wrist so fast the bond between them flared hot enough to hurt.
“Daven.” His voice broke on the name. “What’s wrong? I can feel you.”
Daven turned and caught his face in both hands. Then he kissed him hard enough to hurt, like he was trying to memorize the taste of him before the world could take him.
Ryneth gasped against his mouth, startled for half a second before he gave in and grabbed fistfuls of Daven’s shirt, dragging him closer like he already knew this wasn’t just a kiss. The bond surged between them so violently that static cracked once against Daven’s chest.
For one breathless second, the hallway, the shouting in the kitchen, the storm outside, all of it disappeared under the force of it.
Daven pulled back only far enough to press his forehead against Ryneth’s, both of them breathing hard.
He didn’t have time to explain, and even if he did, he still wouldn’t have taken Ryneth with him.
The thought of leaving him behind felt wrong enough to scrape, but the thought of dragging him toward whatever Concordant wanted was worse.
“I need to grab something from home,” he said, too fast to sound convincing. “I’ll be right back.”
Ryneth stared at him, chest rising too fast. “Then let me come with you.”
“No.” Daven caught his wrist and pressed it back against his own chest, forcing him to feel how hard the bond was beating there. “Stay here. With the others. I’ll be right back.”
Ryneth caught at his shirt again, panic flashing raw across his face.
Daven kissed him again, shorter this time but somehow worse, all teeth and urgency, too fierce to be goodbye and too fast to be anything else. “I’ll be right back.”
This time, he didn’t wait for Ryneth to stop him.
* * *
The rain was heavier by the time they reached the district. Thin needles of water slid down the cracked hospital facade. The streetlights flickered under the storm, leaving half the block in shadow.
Daven stepped out of the vehicle and scanned the street. “Nothing here.”
Nothing visible, anyway. That didn’t mean a damn thing. He could still feel the echo of that voice under his skin, the black mask flashing in the screens, the sick certainty that had dragged him out of Moargan’s kitchen before he’d had time to think.
Using his flashlight, he checked the deserted road. The old emergency entrance loomed across from them. One of the node markers blinked on his wrist display.
“They routed something through here,” Vandor called.
“Then let’s check it out.”
They crossed the road. Wind dragged leaves across the pavement. Thunder rolled somewhere above the city.
Rain soaked through Daven’s jacket, but he didn’t care.
He turned slowly in the middle of the street, scanning the dark buildings, the abandoned parking lot, the broken ambulance bay.
A loose sign creaked somewhere on the side of the hospital.
Vandor swept his flashlight slowly across the rooftops but said nothing.
Passing the building, they headed toward the open ground where Daven and Ryneth had seen the Concordant craft descend earlier.
The clearing was empty.
“Where the fuck are you?” he muttered, sweeping the beam across the shifting shadows.
His multi-slate dinged, and Daven glanced down. Even through the rain and cold, something in his chest tightened the second he saw the name on the screen.
Ryneth.
The message was brief.
Please tell me where you are.
Daven stared at the words, still able to taste him, still feeling that desperate kiss like it hadn’t ended. The bond pulled hard under his ribs. For one stupid second, he wanted to turn around, get back in the vehicle, and go straight home.
But the wrongness in the district hadn’t eased. If anything, it had sharpened. Like whatever had pulled him here was still waiting.
He thought of what to reply when he heard Vandor approach behind him.
“You chose a good night to be a hero.”
“Shut up.” Kicking a loose piece of concrete across the pavement, he watched it skid into the curb.
“The others might keep up their ‘patient’ act, but not me. And what about you, huh?” He turned over his shoulder and took in the other guy, who stood like a fucking statue as usual.
“Why did you let him walk out there alone?”
“Kylix is not by himself,” Vandor corrected.
“Yes, he is. Guards are nothing in comparison to how his own family can protect him.”
Rain came harder, running down his hair into his eyes.
“Kylix standing out there like a statue while they hide in their tower,” Daven continued, pacing now, restless. “My uncle letting them sit on Helion like honored guests while Attica runs through the streets.”
Vandor’s gaze moved slowly along the hospital roofline.
Thunder cracked again as the storm rolled closer.
Daven paced toward the edge of the lot, then turned back again. “They’re playing with us. Hiding their tracks, promising us bullshit. So what’s their game, then? What the fuck are we missing?”
Next to him, Vandor shrugged. “When you believe you are superior, you make other people wait.”
“When you believe you are superior,” Daven spat. “Then why are we not showing them we’re not?”
“Kylix knows all this,” was all Vandor said. “You know he does.”
Daven inhaled through his nose in an attempt to get himself back under control. Think. “Where do you think Attica has been hiding?”
Vandor snorted. “If we knew that, we wouldn’t be standing here.”
“Come on. We’ve scouted the entire planet. Yure and the entire tech team have been searching for them since Bekn escaped from prison. They couldn’t have just disappeared.”
He looked up at the dark sky where the planets glimmered faintly through the rain.
“Bekn was located on the space shuttle that brought Ryneth to Helion.” Crouching down, Vandor started searching the ground.
“Don’t mention that. Those motherfuckers still need to pay for putting him in a cage.”
“Why don’t you think without your dick for once?”
Daven bristled. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or fight the other man. “You’re getting bold, aren’t you?”
Vandor stopped searching the ground and let out a heavy sigh before looking up at him. “I don’t mean to. It’s just—sometimes you Dariux men are difficult to work with.”
“Oh, and why’s that? Because we’ve been toyed with like a bunch of idiots? You don’t drag an Imperial prince and the entire Luminary to your tower for a negotiation, then leave them standing outside in the rain for an hour unless you’re—”
He cut himself off.
Unless you’re what?
“Fuck.” Vandor crouched near the curb and held out a hand. “Give me some light.”
Daven swung the beam of his flashlight toward him and stepped closer, his stomach tightening as something dark gleamed in Vandor’s hand, rain sliding over its curved surface.
“What’s that?”
Vandor turned it slowly in the light. “A mask.”
The shape was unmistakable, smooth black plating and narrow eye slits in the same design the Concordant envoys had worn when they stepped out of their ship.
Daven went still. “Concordant.”
Vandor didn’t answer at once. His thumb caught on the inside edge of the mask and stilled, and for one brief second a thin line of gold flashed along the inner rim before his hand closed over it. Whatever crossed his face vanished just as fast. Then he dropped the mask back to the pavement.
Daven frowned. “What?”
Vandor crouched lower and reached toward the curb instead. “This.” He held up a thin cable that had been cut clean through, rainwater dripping from the severed end. “There’s a cut line here.”
Daven dragged a hand through his wet hair as he looked from the hospital to the rain-dark sky above it. “Of course they did. Send those assholes across the city while everyone else stares at broken cameras. Brilliant. They wanted someone here. Or they wanted someone away from somewhere else.”
Vandor didn’t reply, but his eyes lifted toward the hospital roof. If Daven had to guess, the guard actually looked spooked.
Daven followed his gaze for a moment, then scoffed. “What?”
Vandor shook his head slightly. “Nothing.”
Daven exhaled hard and turned away again. “I swear, if this turns out to be some planted signal, I’m going to—”
He broke off.
His multi-slate flickered, then the signal vanished.
Daven stared at the blank screen and let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Rain ran down his face as he looked back at the hospital, the empty road, the dead signal in his hand. “I know something about that loop was wrong.”
Vandor glanced at him. “What?”
Daven dragged a hand through his wet hair, jaw tight. “Nothing. I just…” He looked up at the hospital roof again, the storm pressing harder over the district. “What the fuck did they want us to see?”
Vandor slipped the scanner into his pocket but didn’t look at him. His eyes stayed on the sky. “They wanted someone here tonight.”
Daven scoffed and kicked the curb. “Yeah? Well, congratulations to them. Helion’s finest investigative unit has arrived.”
Vandor didn’t smile. His eyes were still on the sky.
Daven followed his gaze. “What?”
Vandor hesitated. “You remember the drawing Cyprian showed Ryneth?”
Daven stared at him. “What the hell does that have to do with anything right now?”
Vandor didn’t answer immediately. Rain ran down his hair, down his jaw. “I just had to think of it.”
Daven shook his head. “We’re standing in the middle of a storm chasing Concordant and you’re thinking about drawings?”
Vandor looked at him. There was something about that long look that made Daven’s irritation falter. Something that made unease crawl up his spine.
“There was nothing on the other side of the Ward,” Daven muttered.
“What?”
“I said there was nothing there. Ryneth guarded that wall for years.”
The memory surfaced whether he wanted it to or not.
He scoffed, angry with whoever had decided for Ryneth to stand there like a fool protecting an illusion. He could still taste Ryneth on his mouth, still feel the way he’d clung to him in the hallway like he already knew something was wrong.
And now he couldn’t stop thinking about that damn drawing.
Why had it stayed in his mind?
“Cyprian portrayed the guards,” he muttered. “The wall. And that empty stretch on the other side. And Ryneth—he said he saw those words…”
And above it—
Nereth Solan.
“Nereth Solan,” he whispered.
“Good Light. Look!”
Lightning split the sky so hard the hospital windows flashed white, and for one violent second a single room lit up near the upper floor. Thunder rolled across the district.
When the light steadied again, someone was standing there.
Daven’s breath caught so sharply it hurt.
The silhouette at the window was royal consort Norma Zephyranth. Or it looked enough like her to make Daven’s blood turn cold. Standing where she should never have been, her pale shape motionless behind the rain-streaked glass as if the storm had only just decided to let them see her.
For one suspended second, Daven simply stared. The last time those words had been spoken, the queen had stirred in her sleep. Now she was standing at the window, looking out.
Was she trying to show them something?
The cut cable. The hospital looping through the screens. The dead feed the second they arrived. None of it had pulled them here by accident.
His gaze moved past the woman at the window, past the hospital roof and the sheets of rain, climbing higher into the storm-dark sky.
Thunder rolled across Helion.
For a moment it felt as if something shifted inside the storm itself, the clouds rolling slower above the towers.
Vandor followed his gaze, both of them falling silent. Even the storm seemed to hold its breath.
Daven looked back at the deserted road, then slowly lifted his gaze again, following the dark wall of cloud hanging over the skyline until the truth hit him hard enough to turn his stomach.
“…Shit.”
They hadn’t come here for the hospital.
They were standing directly beneath whatever Concordant had hidden above them.