Chapter 11

JARAD MET ME at the nearest unmoving form; our eyes locked in an instant of terrible certainty. Nonetheless, I put my hand on Crisac di Friesnen’s leg and reached.

Finding nothing. His body was an empty husk. “Gone.”

Jarad checked Inva di Lorimar then Kyr di Mendolar, shaking his head. I went to Cela di Teerac and Prega di Su’dlaat with the same awful result.

Their minds had been pulled into the M’hir. Which meant for the five bodies at our feet, there were five more we couldn’t see: those who’d died first, taking their mates with them. The link between Joined pairs was permanent and a sentence of death. “Their Chosen died,” I said.

Or did I whisper?

“Their—you mean my grandmother?” Jacqui asked, then went terribly still.

Tle di Parth covered her mouth with her hands. They weren’t together. Each had stayed home. How could they die all at once?

Jarad’s face matched the stone around us. “It was planned. They were killed. Murdered!”

Degal di Sawnda’at stared at me, his eyes round. “Signy’s at a play. She’s asking what’s wrong. What’s happened. What do I tell her? Speaker, what do we do?”

Signy hadn’t been home. “Go to her,” I told him as realization struck, part of me startled by the flat calm of my voice.

Degal hadn’t died because his Chosen hadn’t been home.

Jarad’d brought us here believing this room safe. It wouldn’t be enough against Assemblers.

Because they knew where to find us. We’d been—

I refused to think it, refused to think Bowman might have done this, might have taken credits in return for lives. I refused to think of anything or anyone, even Morgan, but my next breath and now.

“Jarad.” I gestured to the bodies. It was our way, to send the remnants into the M’hir.

And I needed my Power.

Our homes are traps! My warning coursed outward, fueled by desperation, welling into a shout no Clan would miss. The Watchers joined me with their own. FLEE!

Even as I feared I was too late.