Chapter 113 Lock you Down
ARYA
We were halfway to Mordecai’s cell before Bardon said what he’d been building up to.
“The void displacement methodology. If the Reclaimed has advanced it to the point of operational use—” He paused. “Arya, we need to consider the possibility that they can access the void deliberately. Not just accidentally or as a containment measure. Deliberately.”
“I know.”
“Which means they may have the ability to navigate it and if they choose to use it as a route rather than a container—”
“Bardon.” I stopped walking. “I know what it means. What I need from you right now is not the problem. It’s whether you think Mordecai will help us understand the specific technique used.”
He looked at me with those old eyes. “I think he’ll help if it serves his interests. Whether his interests and ours are sufficiently aligned—” He spread his hands. “That’s what we need to determine.”
“Then let’s go determine it.”
Mordecai was in the same position as before. I was starting to think the stillness was a choice rather than a characteristic. Something he’d developed in the void and kept as a habit.
“You came back sooner than I expected,” he said.
“Things moved quickly.” I sat. “Tell me about void displacement.”
His eyes moved to Bardon, who sat at the edge of the room with a tablet, ready to record then back to me.
“You found them.” It wasn’t a question.
“We found their materials. They moved their research before we could secure it.”
He was quiet for a moment. I could see him weighing something, not whether to cooperate, I thought. But how much cooperation was tactically optimal.
“Void displacement is significantly more difficult than void containment,” he said finally. “Containment uses the void as a passive recipient. You create an opening, you push something through, you seal it. The object stays there because the void resists exit the same way it resists entry.” He folded his hands. “Displacement requires an active anchor. Something that maintains the connection between the void pocket and real space. Without the anchor, the displaced material simply exists somewhere in the void with no retrieval mechanism.”
“But if you have the anchor—”
“You can go in and come out with what you took in.” He met my eyes. “The anchor is always a living thing. Something with sufficient reality to maintain the connection against the void’s tendency to dissolve it.”
“A person.”
“A person, yes. Or a creature with significant enough life force.” He paused. “For the scale of displacement you’re describing the anchor would need to be extraordinary. Not just powerful. Genuinely singular.”
“What kind of singular?”
He looked at me for a long moment without speaking.
“No,” I said.
“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m giving you the technical parameters.”
“You’re describing me.” I held his gaze. “The anchor they’d need for something that large. Moonborne plus Lycan plus bonded mate of an immortal. You’re telling me I’m what they need.”
“I’m telling you it would be unprecedented. In a way that would require something unprecedented as the anchor.” He inclined his head slightly. “Draw whatever conclusions seem appropriate.”
The cold settled in my chest. Not fear exactly. Something more like the clarity.
“They don’t just want to demonstrate their capability,” I said. “They want to scale it. And they can’t scale it without—”
“Without solving the anchor problem, yes.” Mordecai’s voice was almost gentle. “Which they can’t solve through research alone. Research tells you what you need. It doesn’t provide it.”
“They’re going to come for me.”
“They were always going to come for you.” He spread his hands. “The question is what you intend to do about it.”
\-----
LUCA
I felt the shift in the bond from across the temple.
I was in the middle of a conversation with Lord Drayven about the water rights committee when I excused myself.
Drayven watched me leave with an expression that suggested he was filing away information about how the Lycan King responded to signals from his mate. I noted that he was noting it and decided I didn’t care.
I found her coming up the staircase from Mordecai’s cell, with Bardon three steps behind her.
She looked at me when she reached the top.
“They’re coming for me,” she said before I even reached her. I felt my entire world stopped, somehow my brain registered the rest of the things she was saying. Even though I was far gone, that sentence repeated itself in my brain. “Their endgame requires me specifically.” She said it simply.
I didn’t know how she could be calm at a time like this.
I heard the words and felt them land in my chest and did not, with considerable effort, tear down to Mordecai’s cell and do something inadvisable.
“Tell me everything,” I said instead of the million other things my body wanted to do.
We walked while she talked. The temple corridors in the late morning were moderately populated. We moved through the people passing with Bardon trailing at a respectful distance.
I listened without interrupting, which was one of the things I’d genuinely improved at over the past months. The urge to interrupt was still there. The need to say “absolutely not” and “I’ll destroy them before they get within a hundred miles” and several other things that were true but not helpful in this moment.
“So,” I said, when she finished. “The threat wasn’t about Mordecai’s release.”
“The release was a surface objective. Potentially real but secondary.” She stopped walking. We were in the outer courtyard, near the Moonwell’s above-ground access point. “It is a countdown to something operational. They need time to get into position. To arrange whatever they’re planning to use to get to me.”
“What are their options? Physically.”
“There are a lot of public events in the next two weeks. The election campaign. Three territorial visits I’d committed to. The formal tribunal proceedings for Mordecai.” She looked at the Moonwell cover. “Any of them could be a vector.”
“We’re cancelling everything.”
“We can’t cancel the tribunal. Mordecai’s rights under the new council charter require proceedings to begin within thirty days of imprisonment.” She met my eyes. “We can reduce the territorial visits and tighten the election campaign appearances. But the tribunal needs to happen.”
“And if they don’t make their move in fourteen days? If the countdown is a pressure tactic and the real timeline is longer?”
“Then we’ve bought time to find the operational center.” She looked at me directly. “Luca. I know what you want to do.”
“Do you?” My voice was low. I was using every bit of strength I had to hold back my rage.