Page 41 of Thexan

It carried trust.

I accepted it.

“They are closing,” I said.

“How long?”

“Less than one cycle.”

“Then we move.”

“Yes.”

She stepped away then, already shifting into motion, gathering what she would need with the same efficient precision she had applied from the beginning. There was no hesitation in it now, no uncertainty—only action.

I watched her for a moment, not just the movement, but the alignment that remained between us, the bond no longer something I compensated for, but something present in every aspect of my awareness.

This was an integration, not a disruption.

I turned toward the door.

“They will not reach the settlement,” I said.

Brynn didn’t look back as she secured the final supply.

“No,” she said. “They won’t.”

This time, it was more than a projection.

It was intent.

Chapter Eleven

Thexan

We did not take the main path.

The most efficient route into the ridge system would be the first one they checked, the one most likely to confirm the direction of travel. Instead, we moved along the higher line where the ground shifted underfoot and the terrain forced precision over speed. It was slower, but it limited approach angles and reduced the advantage of coordinated movement.

Brynn moved ahead when the path narrowed. She understood the terrain in ways I did not and did not hesitate to use that advantage. I adjusted to her pace without comment, maintaining distance that allowed for movement while keeping her within reach.

The air shifted.

It was not sound yet. It was a disturbance—subtle, controlled, but distinct enough that I did not need visual confirmation to identify it. The pattern was deliberate, the movement restrained to avoid detection by those not trained to recognize it.

They were close.

I lifted my hand slightly.

Brynn stopped immediately.

“They’re here,” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Three.”