Page 85 of Zenith Tower

I had no plan beyond closing the distance the Tower had put between us. The rain-dark line drew tight under my skin, warm enough to hurt. Across the passage, Hale’s breath caught. His unfinished line brightened to the color it had been before Marrow brought down the silver leads.

Kieran set his cup on the floor and caught my arm.

Green-gold light broke through his sleeve.

Power shifted beneath my completed bonds. Kieran’s pulse struck inside my own, quickened by the sudden movement of his healed Mark. Caspian’s line pressed cold and steady at my wrist. The reach toward Hale deepened until all three lines burned together.

The water-light along the walls sharpened every color in the passage.

Marrow stepped through the lower door behind Hale.

He looked first at the copper light crossing the distance between Hale and me. Then his attention moved to Kieran’s wrist.

“Release her,” he said.

Kieran let go of my arm.

The green-gold light remained.

Marrow came up the stair. “Your Mark has not responded like that during review.”

“Maybe it doesn’t like you,” Kieran said.

“It responded when she reached for Hale.”

“I noticed.”

“Marrow,” Hale said from below.

Marrow ignored him. He spoke to the steward at the junction. “Take Marsh to the lower processing wing.”

The steward hesitated. “Now?”

“Now.”

Two more stewards came through the lower door.

I let the reach toward Hale go. The copper light receded, but the line stayed painfully warm.

“You have read Kieran’s Mark every morning,” I said. “You know it is stable.”

“Every reading was taken with you beside him. Tonight it changed when your attention was on someone else.”

“So ask him what he felt.”

“I will.” Marrow looked at Kieran. “Downstairs.”

Kieran glanced at the stewards moving toward him. Fear flashed through our bond before he pressed it down.

“The Council ordered a full examination of the altered Mark,” Marrow said. “This response makes the order immediate.”

Caspian stepped between Kieran and the nearest steward. “How long?”

“There is no fixed term.”

Caspian’s anger reached me through our bond before his face changed. It arrived cold enough to steady mine.

“He hasn’t refused,” I said.