Chapter Thirteen
Breakpoint
Lina
Morning came too soon, all gold light and the clean smell of meltwater.
For once, I woke up warm—not from blankets, but from memory. The night before lingered in my body; a quiet echo I hadn’t realized I’d been starving for.
Rygnar’s arm lay heavy across my waist, his breath slow against my shoulder. For a fragile moment, the mountain felt like more than stone and exile.
Then the courier tag came alive.
The pulse was sharp and electric, blooming beneath my collarbone like a brand. I gasped, jerking upright as the disc flared red beneath my shift.
“No,” I whispered. “No—”
Rygnar was awake instantly. His hand closed over mine before I could tear the chain free. “Hold still.”
The tag pulsed again—stronger. Not just active.
Broadcasting.
A thin, piercing tone rose from the disc, barely audible but wrong in a way that made my blood run cold.
“That’s not standard,” I said. “It shouldn’t make a sound.”
Rygnar was already moving. He swung out of bed and crossed to the door in three strides, palm flattening against the control panel.
Too late.
Voices echoed down the corridor. Footsteps. The ventilation system shifted pitch as someone overrode a local channel.
The sound that followed wasn’t loud, but it was unmistakable—a localized signal, narrow and precise, the kind that didn’t call the stars but screamed to anyone listening close enough.
“It’s bouncing off the inner walls,” Rygnar said. “Amplifying through the comm grid.”
My stomach dropped. “They can hear it?”
“Yes.”
The corridor filled with movement. Doors opened. Voices rose.
“Rygnar,” someone called. “What is that?”
He looked at me once—steady, assessing—then reached for his boots. “We can’t contain it here. If it’s broadcasting through the grid, the council will already know.”
“I didn’t—” My fingers trembled around the disc. “You disabled it. I watched you.”
“I know.” His voice stayed calm, but something colder moved beneath it. “Get dressed.”
By the time we stepped into the corridor, the signal echoed faintly through the stone like a heartbeat. Colony members emerged from side passages, drawn toward the sound.
Toward me.
Councilor Kareth Vorn appeared on the upper path, copper scales catching the morning light, her gaze locking on the pulse at my throat.
“You brought a signal inside our walls?”
Rygnar stepped forward, placing himself between us. “It was dormant. I verified—”
“Dormant is not dead,” she snapped. “You’ve put us all at risk.”
I forced my hands to steady. “Let me fix it. Just give me a tool—”
She recoiled. “You expect us to trust—”
“Enough.”
Veklan’s voice carried from the terrace above. He descended slowly, each step deliberate. “We don’t panic until we know what hunts us.”
He stopped in front of me. “How far does that beacon reach?”
“Line-of-sight range,” I said, forcing my thoughts into order. “Twenty kilometers if the receiver’s high. It can’t call orbit anymore—the relays are gone.”
“So, it tells every scavenger and raider within a day’s ride that something worth finding is in this mountain.”
My breath caught. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I believe you,” Veklan said. “But intention does not change consequence.”
He turned to Rygnar. “Disable it again. And make sure it stays dead.”
“I will.”
Councilor Vorn hissed softly. “If they come, her life pays for the risk.”
Rygnar didn’t raise his voice. “If they come, mine does.”
Silence fell.
Veklan held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded once. “See it done.”
Back in the workshop, Rygnar set the tag on his bench. It blinked steadily, each pulse sharp in the quiet.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “You cut the circuits yourself.”
“I cut the primary circuit,” he said. “But this—” he tapped the added trace “—was never part of the original build. A secondary bridge. Hidden well enough to survive a standard disable.”
“You mean it was always there?” I whispered.
Rygnar, nodded. “Probably before you got it.”
“Who would do that?” I asked.
“Someone who planned to activate it remotely,” he said.
“Raiders?”
“Likely.” He glanced up. “Who else handled your gear?”
“No one but—” I stopped. “Mara cleaned my things when I was in the infirmary. But she wouldn’t—”
“She wouldn’t,” he said. “It was probably raiders, and that’s probably how they intercepted your delivery.”
He sliced through the added line. The blinking stopped. “
The silence that followed felt heavier than the noise.
“It’s dead now,” I said.
“Yes. But the signal may already have been received.”
A chill ran through me. “Raiders?”
“Or patrols. Not all human soldiers want peace.”
He sealed the tag inside a small metal box lined with copper mesh. “This will contain any residual signal. We’ll bury it in the lower vents.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “I’m sorry. I never wanted—”
He crossed the space between us in two strides. “Lina.” His voice softened. “You didn’t do this.”
“But I brought it here. I made them doubt you again.”
“They doubt everything,” he said. “That’s how we survived this long.”
I looked up at him, at the steadiness that never seemed to break. “You don’t have to keep defending me.”
“Yes,” he said simply. “I do.”
The words settled deep.
“I don’t want to lose what we have,” I said.
His hand came up, resting lightly against my cheek. “We won’t.”
For a moment, I believed him.
Then Veklan’s voice echoed from the corridor. “Rygnar. Council summons. Now.”
His hand dropped. His gaze shifted, sharpening. “Stay here. Lock the door.”
“What will you tell them?”
“The truth.”
He turned and left.
The door sealed behind him with a faint click.
The workshop felt too quiet. I paced once, twice, the echo of the signal still ringing in my ears.
The fear wasn’t just for me.
It was for all of them.
For him.
Outside, a low rumble rolled through the mountain.
Not thunder.
Something else.
Something was coming.
And for the first time since the convoy ambush, I wasn’t sure the mountain would be enough.