The rain had stopped, but the ground was still steaming. The sky was leaden gray, the clouds hanging low, as if the city were breathing underwater. Rhea led them across a field that had once been a railway station—rusty tracks, overgrown, with poppies and grass between them. The wind carried the smell of cold iron.
"Is it far?" Lina asked.
"Just to the edge of the frequency zone," said Rhea. "After that, he can't hear us anymore."
"He always hears me," Lina whispered.
Alaric walked beside her, his gaze fixed on the ground. "Then we'll take you where even your echo falls silent."
Rhea paused briefly. "If only it were that simple."
"What do you mean?" Lina asked.
Rhea turned around. Her eyes looked tired but clear. "The boundary doesn't erase signals. It amplifies them—before it breaks them. If we're unlucky, he'll hear you louder before he loses you."
Lina fell silent. In her chest, something pulsed irregularly, like a radio signal unable to find a receiver.
---
