The signal came through the bond at five forty-seven.
Not words — the bond never used words. The specific quality of Darius's frequency shifting from the high alert that had been running since noon to something different. The managed precision giving way to the other thing. The thing underneath.
Relief.
The enormous, involuntary relief of someone whose worst fear had not materialized.
*Come down,* the bond said. In the wordless language. In the specific warmth of a man who had just closed a gate behind someone and was standing at the river window.
I was already standing.
Kira was already packing.
Maren — who had been in her chair the entire time with her walking stick across her knees and the specific stillness of someone who is holding the full weight of something and is not going
