His gaze shifted briefly toward the ceiling.
Rhen had returned to the nursery after entering the compound, sitting with Norse in the only room where his violence seemed to become quiet.
Cole paced beside the hearth.
“Who is making decisions in Sule’s absence? You? Dax? Rhen is barely interested in anything that does not involve Leena’s memory, and the rest of us are reacting one disaster at a time.”
“We maintain the defenses,” Dax said. “We protect Norse, monitor the city, and assume Sule is pursuing something he considers more urgent than answering us.”
Cole turned sharply.
“He has been gone for nearly three days.”
“He lost Leena.”
“He also has a newborn son.”
Dax’s expression hardened.
“You think I have forgotten?”
Malakai raised both hands before the argument could escalate.
I searched the restricted archives after Mary told me what Sule asked before leaving.
Cole stopped pacing.
“What did he ask?”
He wanted records concerning the Old Laws, soul-binding, and references to something called the Great Exchange.
Dax left the wall.
“The Great Exchange?”
Malakai’s hands moved with deliberate precision.
An old heretic doctrine. The surviving accounts contradict one another.
“About what?” Cole asked.
Malakai hesitated before signing again.
Death. Souls. The possibility of calling back what has already crossed.
Silence settled over the table.
Dax looked toward Sule’s empty chair.
“Reincarnation?”
Perhaps.
Cole gave a humorless laugh.
“Those are stories told to frightened fledglings.”
Malakai’s expression did not change.
