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“The VPST can open unauthorized portals,” Rathyn says. “I have been using them for months.”

Sabik gives him a look. “Unauthorized portals still ping the radar, Commander. The Vyastil council may not be aware of exactly where the portals open, but they still possess the technology to close them at will. Half a dozen times now, Vorthex collection teams have been trapped on Earth and were forced to go through negotiations to return home. And those negotiations have ended in them being forced to leave their humans behind.”

My breath comes out in a rush. “If this matter was discussed by the council, they left me out of it.”

“Yes. I suspected as much,” Sabik says. “Which means that while your plans might be unknown, they must suspect you will attempt to make a move against them. And it means they plan to use your vulnerable spots against you.”

My vulnerable spots.

My Luca.

“The Vorthex have agreed to lend us military aid,” Zeial says, “with the agreement that when the king, queen, and council have been overthrown, they have free rein to take humans as needed.”

I stiffen. They have a system, of course, to protect the humans they send home after. But from what I have heard over the many years, the humans still leave forever changed.

“I am willing to discuss it. And I am willing to find a way to provide, but we need to be able to find a way that allows humans to agree. As they have done with us,” I say.

Zeial scoffs. “You mean through coercion. Curing diseases and illness and providing clean water with Tarek technology to get their governments to make service to the Vyastil mandatory.”

My ears flick in shame. “We wish for reform also.”

“I believe they will agree to compromise being put on the table,” Zeial says eventually. He pulls out a tablet and holds it out. “The Vorthex have laid out their terms, and the Tarek have laid out ours. Add your terms and sign, and then we will provide a way for communication when you are ready to move against the Vyastilian forces.”

This is becoming real. Rathyn touches my arm, and I look over at him.

“Dhoryn is still working on recruiting the Outerlanders. Are you sure signing this is wise without more Vyastil behind us?”

“I’m not sure we have much of a choice now,” I tell Rathyn. The heat is growing worse in my stomach, but I swallow it down. I have a little more time before it overwhelms me.

“You will have the force of two militaries behind you,” Zeial reminds me. “And if it helps, we have several Vyastil contacts that have been quietly making plans to align with the Tarek.”

My eyes widen. “Who?”

Zeial shakes his head. “We will bring that to the table the next time we meet. For now, we allow this moment to be our beginning.”

I take the tablet and read over it carefully before adding in my requirements. A discussion before any agreements between Eretharians and humans are made. And they must allow the Vyastil to decide who will lead our people once the king, queen, and council have been displaced.

I do not think my demands will be enough to shatter this fragile treaty between us, and I am feeling more and more like we can win this. Now we have two militaries on our side, and there’s no telling which other Vyastil will be willing to align with us.

But if the only weapon the council currently has is one that can shut down the portals, it is not enough to triumph. It will only be a matter of how many die before they fall.

“I want as little bloodshed as possible,” I say, handing the tablet back.

Zeial studies me for a long moment. “You will make a good leader, Eissa.”

“Me? No,” I laugh. “No, I⁠—”

“I would pledge my loyalty to you,” Rathyn says very quietly.

I shake my head. “I do not want that responsibility. I have been chained to duty and desk for too long. Now that I have my VySytheh, I just want…” I hesitate, searching for a word, and it comes to my fingertips before my lips. ‘Freedom.’

They stare at me, and it is clear they don’t know what I’ve signed, but it doesn’t matter. I take a breath to explain when I’m doubled over in burning pain, and that’s when Zeial’s companion moves forward.

“He is in a rut,” the Tarek says.

“Not yet,” I gasp. The rolling, cramping heat subsides after a moment, and I look up at Sabik. “Do you have any more suppressant with you?”

Sabik shakes his head. “I am sorry. Harvest season has been over for quite some time. I gave you all I had. Was this unexpected or planned?”