Soren had told them he was deciding the order.
He got about a day to feel good about it before the thing under the yard came up to test it.
He was helping Maren up off the torn grass when Mona's head came out of the dirt at his heel.
She didn't say "augh."
Mona always said augh.
This time she put her blunt face flat to the ground and went still, both useless eyes wide behind the lenses, and her nose stopped going.
"It's coming back up," Soren said.
He had the pack on the map before the grass moved.
Four lines now, ordered for the first time, and he felt the difference in how they sat.
He'd spent the night putting weight in places and the weight was there when he reached for it.
The ground broke in the same spot it had healed.
A single arm, the way the first probe had been an arm, gray under the dirt and wrong-jointed.
"Yara, center. You're the wall."
