“Yeah.” He was quiet for a moment. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I couldn’t do this alone.”
“You wouldn’t have to.” She squeezed his hand. “That’s the point, isn’t it? The Precursors didn’t design the Vault to be opened by one person, one species. They wanted cooperation. Unity.”
“The Grorn won’t see it that way.”
“No.” Emma looked up at the stars, at the vast darkness that held so many secrets. “But maybe that’s why they’ll fail. They’re trying to force something that can only be given freely.”
Doren smiled, slow and warm. “When did you become a philosopher?”
“About ten minutes ago, I think.” She grinned back at him. “Keep up.”
They boarded theVagabond, and Emma settled Ari into her crib while Doren started the launch sequence. The baby was already half-asleep, exhausted by whatever had happened in the waystation, her silver skin glowing faintly in the dim cabin light.
“Sleep well, princess,” Emma murmured, brushing a kiss against Ari’s forehead. “We’ve got a long way to go.”
The ship hummed to life around them, lifting off from the ancient moon and heading for the stars.
Somewhere out there, the other Keys were waiting.
And Emma was determined to find them all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The plasma bolt scorched past Doren’s ear close enough to singe fur.
He threw himself sideways, firing blind over his shoulder as he crashed through an ancient doorway. Stone dust exploded from the frame where another shot struck, showering him with debris that smelled of ages past and something sharper—ozone, fear, the acrid tang of Grorn weapon discharge.
“Emma, move!”
She was already moving, Ari clutched tight against her chest as she sprinted down the corridor ahead of him. The baby wasn’t crying—she’d gone silent the moment the shooting started, as if she understood that noise meant danger. That instinctive quiet might be the only thing keeping them alive.
Doren spun, squeezed off three shots at the hulking silhouettes pursuing them, then ran.
The waystation on Veris IV was supposed to be abandoned. That’s what the records had indicated—another dormant Precursor facility, waiting for an Aurelian touch to awaken it.He’d triple-checked the coordinates against both the ancient disk and the information from the first outpost. Everything aligned perfectly.
What the records hadn’t mentioned was the Grorn excavation team already dug in like parasites.
Stupid. He ducked under a collapsed beam, boots skidding on rubble. Should have scanned more thoroughly before landing. Should have?—
Another bolt sizzled past, close enough that he felt the heat through his shirt.
“Left!” Emma shouted from somewhere ahead.
He trusted her—had learned to trust her instincts over the past weeks in ways that still surprised him—and veered left without hesitation. The corridor narrowed, then opened into a chamber filled with equipment that hummed with dormant power. Precursor technology, half-excavated from the walls, surrounded by Grorn drilling apparatus and portable generators.
They’d been here for weeks, maybe months. Methodically stripping the waystation piece by piece.
And now Doren had delivered a Silver Key directly into their hands.
Emma had pressed herself against the far wall, breathing hard, her brown eyes wide but focused. Ari was tucked into the carrying sling they’d rigged from spare fabric—the baby’s silver skin seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light, reacting to the surrounding technology even in her fear.
“How many?” Emma gasped.
“At least six. Maybe more.” Doren moved to her side, checking his blaster’s charge. Half depleted. He had one spare power cell, nothing else. “They’ve got the main entrance blocked. We need another way out.”
“The ship?—”
“Too far. We’d never make it across open ground.” TheVagabondsitting vulnerable on the landing pad a quarter kilometer away, and between them and safety, a killing field of exposed terrain that the Grorn would cover with weapons fire the moment they emerged.
