"Are you sure this is the place?" Cassian asked again, staring out at the ruins. He had asked her when he first crossed the boundary, but he needed to hear it twice, because none of this made any sense.
"Yes. This is the place."
There was nothing here. The settlement was abandoned, ancient, and completely stripped of life. Broken buildings and moss covered rocks lay scattered across the mud like snapped bone.It didn't look like somewhere people lived—it looked like somewhere a civilization had died.
"Tell me—when you were here before, did it look like this?"
"Oh, yes. Absolutely," Materdea said smoothly. "Buildings smashed into splinters across the dirt. It's a custom lesson I designed just for you: a reminder never to believe in your own judgements, seeing as you're not very bright."
"Right. So no." Cassian rubbed his forehead. "When were you here last?"
"Why does it matter?"
"In case you haven't noticed, there is no one here. No one. I need to know if the Archon did this, and if he did, whether he left a trap behind for whoever came looking."
Materdea went quiet for a long second before answering.
"Some years ago."
Cassian froze.
The silence stretched between them. His jaw dropped, his mind stalling out as he tried to process what she'd just said.
"Some years ago?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't think that was important information? You didn't think it was possible that a place might change just a bit over a few years?"
"I didn't expect this to happen," she said defensively.
"Wow. Incredible."
He stood alone in the clearing, feeling his blood begin to boil as the reality of his situation crashed down on him. He had traded safety and a warm bed at Garrett's X just to stand in a field of rotted wood. He couldn't go back; he'd only bought enough rations to get here. He was completely, utterly stranded, and he had walked here on his own two feet.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Again, it wasn't important." Materdea's voice shifted, dropping its usual mocking edge. She sounded irritated now, annoyed that he was still pushing.
"Oh, Cassian, before you set out, you should know the last time I checked on Oakhaven was years ago, but no big deal."Cassian mocked her tone savagely. " You see how that sounds? It is a very important detail!"
"What difference would it have made if you knew then or now?"
"So you did know before we left," Cassian caught on instantly.
"And who said I did?," she snapped back, trying to backtrack.
"You didn't know? You had no idea what happened here. How is that even possible? You can pull me back from the grasps of death, but you can't keep track of one measly sanctuary?"
She didn't answer.
"What aren't you telling me?" he pressed, his voice sharp. "You have to speak up, Dea. Because if you don't, they're going to find me, kill me, and you won't get a single shred of that bargain you care so much about."
A low, heavy sigh echoed in his head.
"I was trapped"
Cassian blinked. "You were what?"
"For reasons that do not concern you right now, I was trapped for some time. I was blind to the affairs of Oakhaven."
He wanted to demand what could possibly trap an entity like her, but the finality in her voice told him he'd reached the absolute limit of what she was willing to share. Pushing further would get him nowhere.
"So what now?" Cassian asked, looking around the empty field. "The people who were supposed to teach me are gone. I have no way to learn how to use this mark, and the clock is ticking. It's only a matter of time before the Archon's men track me down."
"Search the area for now. That's all we can do."
Cassian hated the idea. He could see the whole clearing just fine from where he stood, and there wasn't a single thing worth looking at. But he shifted his grip on the bag and took a step forward anyway. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go.
Rustle.
The sound came from the dense brush right behind him.
In a single movement, Cassian yanked the heavy machete from the bag, dropping into an awkward, defensive stance toward the noise. Whatever was in those bushes, he was ready to strike the second it cleared the leaves.
The branches parted.
A head popped out from the foliage. The face was haggard, unwashed, and framed by wild, matted hair. It dragged itself across the floor, like an animal—but beneath the dirt, it was unmistakably human.