Faint. Intermittent. Like a heartbeat at the bottom of a well, barely audible but definitely present. The direction felt like upstream, back toward the fire and the chaos we'd left behind. Which made sense, actually. Void Gates sealed when you entered and unsealed when the core died. If the core was smart, and the coordinated leopard behavior suggested it was, it would position itself in the most defensible location available.
Like, say, the center of a burning forest full of evolved predators that answered to its will.
Wonderful.
I let the information settle, filing it away for when we could actually act on it. Tomorrow, when the fire had burned itself out and Blair could move without agony painting every step. Tomorrow, when I'd recovered enough mana to swap abilities again without leaving myself vulnerable. Tomorrow, when we had a chance of finding the others and regrouping into something approaching a functional squad.
Tonight was for survival. Nothing more.
