His stomach growled loudly.
Aries pulled a slightly squashed packet from his pocket. “Here.” He tossed it into the air.
Collin tore it open eagerly and divided the tough brown bread between them. Aries devoured his in seconds. Lekyi only nibbled at his.
As they ate, Lekyi nudged a rock with his good foot, startling a small newt that scurried into the muddy water.
“What were you two even doing out here?” Lekyi snapped, a flash of frustration cutting through his hoarseness. “Did you not see the yellow markers?”
Aries pulled the crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and flipped it idly between two fingers. “You mean this thing?”
Lekyi’s glare could’ve scorched the creek dry.
Collin raised his hands. “It’s not like we thought, ‘You know what sounds fun today? Wandering through a hidden minefield.’"
“I have to say,” Aries added, “the hospitality could use work.”
Lekyi groaned faintly and let his head drop back. “I wasn’t trying to blow up the forest. The chief steward asked me to improve the black powder—find more uses. Make it safer to handle.”
Collin turned the handkerchief over in his hands. Except for Montigo’s seal embroidered in gold thread, it looked like any old rag. “More uses? Like what? Creative tree removal?”
Lekyi didn’t rise to the jab. His gaze had drifted, following a few dry leaves as they coasted along the surface of the stream. “I haven’t made it safe enough yet.”
“You will,” Aries said. “You always do.”
Collin nodded quietly. No one questioned Lekyi’s genius—it had been evident since they were children. While the rest of them were still figuring out how to hold a compass, Lekyi was sketching new navigation tools from memory and correcting the teacher. He’d won the Scholar’s Prize while most of them were still memorizing multiplication tables.
But Collin had seen what that brilliance cost him—the sleepless nights, the crushing expectations, the way success never bought him peace.
Lekyi let out a bitter laugh. “Captain Sol will be furious if I die now. He made itveryclear—this has to work. If something happens, tell them I was already dead when you found me. That you tried, but it was too late.” He winced and drew a shaky breath. “And whatever happens—don’t say anything about the tests. It’s classified. Only the top stewards know. I thought I’d come far enough out to stay unnoticed... guess not.”
“You’re not dying today,” Collin said, steady and certain. “You’re just mildly scorched.”
Aries offered a wry grin. “And don’t worry—your secret’s safe with us. I’m already in enough trouble just trying to court Montigo’s exiled daughter, but at least my doomed relationships don’t explode on impact.”
Lekyi almost smiled.
For a brief, beautiful moment, the weight lifted from Collin’s chest.
Lekyi’s color had improved, and it was time to push on. They carefully laid him back on the stretcher, and Collin and Aries took turns teasing him about his new life of leisure.
The miles stretched long and endless. Trees thinned and soon gave. The moment they stepped into a clearing, the sun hit them like a hammer. Collin squinted against the glare as the dampness in his shirt vanished in seconds, replaced by the raw sting of heat on his skin. His neck and forearms prickledunder the blaze, already close to burning. Whatever jokes had kept them moving earlier had long since dried up. Now, all that remained was the steady crunch of boots and the rhythmic thud of his own heartbeat in his ears. There was no room left for chatter—just the uphill drag of one foot after the other, each step wrestled from sheer will.
By the time they finally stumbled into Chroma’s square, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows—and Collin was ready to collapse. Every part of him ached, heavy and overheated, like his body was one wrong breath away from breaking.
Doctor Fol reassured them again and again that Lekyi would be in good hands. River, pale with worry, promised not to leave his side—not even for a moment.
Collin and Aries were dismissed quickly—their own scrapes and bruises declared too minor to fuss over. But they weren’t off the hook. They still had to report to the village steward. After a tense, breathless explanation, the steward only scowled and muttered, then waved them off without punishment.
When their crooked garden gate came into view, Aries let out a yelp and Collin broke into a run as though he’d been away for years. The weed-choked yard and sagging eaves had never looked so sweet.
Collin hauled up a heavy bucket of fresh water from the well and set it by his feet. He tugged his grimy shirt over his head, eager to wash off the salt and grit clinging to his skin. The relief of cold water splashing over his body danced through his thoughts.
Before he could untangle his arms from the sleeves, a crash and a sharp yell rang out from inside the house.
He yanked his shirt off, bolted for the front door—and tripped over the full bucket in his haste. He sprawled to the ground, skinning his elbows and knees. His shirt still tangled around his arms. He thrashed free and sprinted inside, panic driving him, expecting to find Aries gravely injured.
Instead, he found Aries sitting on the dining room floor, surrounded by the shattered remains of a large flour jar. His head was bowed, his thick, freshly washed hair falling over his hands.
