Elara nods slowly. "I can do it. I can weave the static."
"And I'll ground it," Asher adds, his mismatched eyes glowing with a steady, silver light. "I'll keep the mortar wet so the static doesn't burn you out, El."
I pull both of them into a fierce, crushing hug, burying my face in their hair. I breathe in the scent of them—ozone, crushed pine, and the sweet, undeniable smell of my children. Be careful, I project to them, the thought thick with maternal terror. Hold the line. We will come home.
We'll hold it, Mama, Asher projects back, his mental voice steady and strong. We're the mortar.
I stand up, wiping a stray tear from my cheek, and look at Kade. The time for goodbyes is over.
"Let's go break a machine," I say.
The UN stealth transport cuts through the night sky at Mach 2, its
