ARI 

“Ari?”

I flinched.

Damerion hesitated. “Any sign of strakirin?”

I shook my head.

He nodded, still studying me, but now a hint of sympathy crept into his eyes. He’d been kind to me on the way here, kinder than he’d been before the canyon. Gentler, in a way, as if he cared about more than just his target or his mission to stop the judges and the Driecarans. As if my pain at the fact Noah was still back there—not dead, because he wouldn’t be dead—might matter to him.

Beneath the battle-hardened commander, I was finally catching glimpses of the person he seemed to be inside.

“The Vetorians will have medical supplies. You can get that rib treated.” He twitched his head toward the Yvarian medic. “Follow him. He’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Thanks.”

He started away, only to pause when I didn’t move. “Your people still need you, Ari. We do as well. We can’t tell whether that thing is coming if you leave.”

I gave a tight nod, unsure what to say. Noah needed me too. I couldn’t help him by staying here, or by going farther away.

Damerion echoed the nod thoughtfully, but he didn’t leave until I swam toward the medic like he’d suggested.

I kept myself from looking back again while I continued toward the flattened tents. I felt like the rope in a complicated game of tug of war. The dehaians needed me. My family needed me. But so did Noah. Maybe he was unconscious. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t feel his presence, and why the distance didn’t hurt. I didn’t know if the Beast could fall unconscious, but that wasn’t the point. He was still out there.

He had to be.

And meanwhile, Logan could be anywhere. He could be circling back here right now, for that matter.

I hugged my arms around my middle. Logan wouldn’t, though. Somehow, I just knew he wouldn’t. He’d head for the shore, for the wizards, and for the judges too. But first, he’d have fun.

My gaze slipped over the wreckage of the city. Fun like this.

And there wasn’t anyone in his path with the power to stop him.

The strakirin stared at me, and I could see their fear, their worry. Leo made a stuttering, hissing sound.

I could tell it was an apology.

“No,” I gritted out. “Don’t… speak like them.”

A heartbeat passed. I knew Baylie was behind me. I could only imagine her expression. And the dehaians too, with their guns.

“S-sorry,” Luna said.

I dragged my gaze up to theirs.

Two pairs of snake-like eyes watched me. “Human eyes,” I snarled. “Change them.”

Luna and Leo flinched like they were scared of me, but then Luna hesitated. For a heartbeat, she didn’t even seem to breathe.

And then the scales faded from her skin and her eyes turned a brown so deep it was almost black.

Human.

She glanced at Leo. His skin and eyes changed too.

“Why are you here?” I demanded.

“For help,” Leo said.

“For you,” Luna added.

I tensed.

“You…” A smile flitted over Luna’s face, and I could feel it. Her joy at speaking more easily again. Her relief at her freedom from the droning hive mind.

My jaw clenching, I threw more energy into the wall separating us, trying to keep her out.

Luna winced. Hurt flickered in her eyes. “You saved us. From it. From him. You saved…” Her gaze didn’t quite make the trip to her brother this time. “They told us we’d be like the enforcers. That it wouldn’t hurt, but it did. We were trapped there, inside our minds, and the things they made us do…”

“You signed on for this.” I tossed the words back.

“We signed on to defend our people from annihilation by dehaians, not—” Luna cut off, struggling for words, but it wasn’t about the language this time, I could tell. It was memory. “Not to kill children. Families.”

I saw the dehaians behind them shift position, their hands flexing and then crushing down on their weapons.

“We couldn’t stop them,” Luna continued. “Not from the inside. The… the thing they made would have killed us. But you…” Her brow twitched down, her expression confused yet knowing. “We needed you. Need you. We can feel that, inside our heads.”

“Why?” I demanded.

She shook her head, giving a small shrug. “We don’t know. It’s just like a space inside, and it’s… you.”

I stared at her. I knew what she was talking about. Maybe, anyway, because I’d said something similar to Noah. That there’d been a space inside me, a place where our connection had been, and that had allowed me to hide from the monster they’d put inside my mind. But…

My body went cold, chills pouring through me.

But that space had been him, not me.

Luna bit her lip. “We got away after the dark place. Others didn’t. We hid from him, but it was so hard to stay out of his…” Again, that glance to her brother. They were communicating, I realized. Still talking to each other with the drone.

I felt sick.

“He dominates the hive, but he doesn’t listen to it. He doesn’t hear it like we do, and he doesn’t care. The judges made him different. Not fully, but… different. He wasn’t erased like we were supposed to be. And he’s powerful. More than us. More than any of us. He… he’s just…”

“Evil,” Leo finished.

I shivered. The word fit.

“He claimed the rest,” Luna continued, “but we got away.”

“How did you find us?” Baylie asked.

Luna wrung her hands together and then froze when the dehaians made cautioning noises, tightening their grips on their guns. “The judges sent out warnings about dehaians. They said to avoid Santa Lucina because it wasn’t safe. We knew you were traveling with dehaians at the canyon, so, you know, we decided to risk it.” Her shoulders twitched in a tiny, helpless shrug. “We got lucky. We saw you come out of the water.”

I stared at her. They got lucky. The dehaians had SUVs. We’d driven on highways, on country roads, all the way up into these mountains. And they’d gotten lucky.

But the strakirin were fast.

“The judges lied to us,” Luna said, her voice choked. “They claimed we’d be defending our people from attacks, not murdering children. Not babies.”

Behind her, the dehaians looked ready to kill the two of them where they stood.

She cleared her throat. “But we heard the rumors, the resistance broadcasts, where they said it wasn’t dehaians at all—”

“It wasn’t.” Baylie’s voice was cold.

Luna nodded quickly. “I know. We didn’t believe the stories, not before. But when the judges sent us down there…” She looked ashamed. “We didn’t mean to start a war. To erase ourselves so that they could start a war.” She turned to the dehaians. “We know our apologies will never be enough, no matter how… how horribly sorry we are. But we are so, so sorry, and that’s why we want to help you.”

“How can you help?” I couldn’t stop shaking. This was insane. Wrong. These monsters—

Except they weren’t monsters. No more than I’d been when I let the judges connect me to the Beast. When I’d doubted what little I’d witnessed of Noah, and believed instead that the Judiciary were right and honorable and honest, because they had to be. Because I was a ruanir, and they’d been our trusted leaders for centuries, and everything I knew proclaimed they were a force for good.

Rather than a bunch of megalomaniacal lunatics hellbent on crushing anyone and anything in their path.

“You’re like us, but different too,” Luna said. “You haven’t… you don’t hear it like us, either, do you?”

Her question was nonsensical. And it sounded rhetorical too. “What?”

“The song.” She tapped her temple, watching me.

Song? Oh. “The drone?”

She blinked, like she couldn’t believe I described it that way. “Y-yes. I guess. It doesn’t sound the same to you as it does to us.”

Clearly not.

“It’s changing,” Luna said. “He’s changing it, and we can hear that, which means we can help you find him.” She looked uncomfortable. “He’s hurting people. We can hear them screaming. He has to be stopped. But we can guide you. Help you find the others, and the judges, and even him.” She stepped forward, trying to take my hands even as her eyes darted warily to the soldiers. I flinched away, and dismay flashed over her face. “You’re not like us, but the strakirin need you, now more than ever. You’re the key, and if you don’t—”

“What does that mean, the key?”

Luna hesitated. “We think it means you can save the world.”