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He heard the mercenary exhale a muted breath of relief, carrying with it the tension that had mounted in his shoulders.

He felt the presence of the figure that stood in the doorway before his eyes resolved on the image. The familiar comforting feeling that he’d only recently come to understand, thanks to the brief instruction from Da’agryn, flooded over the room. The gift of mindsight was unnecessary to confirm that person standing in the open door was a phrenic.

The figure in the doorway surprised him. Though he had no expectations of who was approaching, he was thrown off by the youthful beauty of the woman who’d arrived. Time felt as if it had frozen momentarily. Her shoulder-length brown hair and cloak flared out to her side, a continuation of her rapid entry into the room. The loose fabric of her clothing pulled taut against her body, accentuating her athletic features. An exquisite set of tattoos covered the entirety of her right arm.

The immaculately planned disorganization of designs that started at her shoulder gained form and focus as it flowed down her arm. Past her elbow the design rapidly coalesced into a series of lines that twisted around her forearm until they met in a single point above her palm. Where the swirling lines met, the tattoo seemed to explode outward in a circular scatter of leaves and vines that wrapped outward up her arm.

Her almond-shaped eyes were a striking dark green. Ryl could clearly ready the worry written in their depths. The color gave him pause; they were the same green as the Erlyn. The sight triggered an unexpected feeling as memories of The Stocks and his fellow tributes flashed before his eyes.

“Kaep, what’s wrong?” Andr quizzed.

Ryl assumed Andr had seen the same look in her eye as he had.

She paused before responding, and the world around her seemed to return to its normal speed. Her hair settled gently over her shoulders; her eyes brightened as she marked the surprised looks on both their faces.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said.

Her melodious voice danced in his ears as her lips worked into a small smile. The sound of commotion rang from outside. The noise of multiple sets of footsteps approaching with haste rang through the air.

“It's always a pleasure to see you,” Andr waxed sarcastically. “I called for the mender, not the troops. Mender Brasley threatened me on multiple occasions should I fail to fetch him if the boy wakes.”

Ryl felt the swell of unbridled emotion from the approaching phrenics.

“You can tell them to stand down,” Ryl interjected with a confident smile.

Kaep tilted her head to the side, squinting her eyes. With a subtle nod of her head she took a step back, turning her head to the side without removing them from her sight.

“Deyalou. Vox. All is well,” she ordered. “He’s awake. Tell the others to stand down.”

It was a moment before Ryl heard the unseen pair outside the door retreat in the direction they'd come; their footsteps given away by their quiet padding on the floor of the hallway.

The woman stepped confidently back into the room, approaching Ryl's bed, stopping a meter from he and Andr.

“It was not your call that brought us running, mercenary,” she said.

Ryl caught the hint of distrust that rang through her voice. Her inflection of the word mercenary was notably different. If Andr had picked up on the change he paid it no mind.

“It was his,” she said.

Her pointed stare moved off of Andr and her eyes locked onto Ryl’s as they met. He blinked to quickly break off the disorienting stare.

“What call?” Ryl asked inquisitively. “I just woke a few moments ago.”

Kaep regarded him curiously for a short time before opening her mouth to speak. She moved a step closer to the bed, kneeling down, bringing herself to eye level.

“I'm sorry for the confusion, Ryl,” she apologized. He saw the realization dawn in her eyes as she stopped mid-sentence.

“And I’m sorry for the delay in our introduction,” she said with a smile, holding out her hand. “My name’s Kaep.”

He eagerly extended his hand, temporarily forgetting the pain that lingered throughout his body. The top of her hand was soft though her palm was rough with calluses. Her grip was like iron. An unexpected, tingling feeling began in his palm as his hand touched hers. Ryl broke off the handshake, flexing his hand repeatedly. The tingling diminished rapidly. Had the sickness caused more havoc in his body than he’d expected? The squeeze of her hand on his had imparted the sensation of his hand being asleep, yet somehow the pins and needles were energizing. He thought he registered a hint of confusion flash across her face.

“I forget that you have yet to be awakened to the true power that flows through your veins,” Kaep intoned. “You called to us a moment ago. It felt desperate, pleading, agonizing. All came as soon as we heard it. As soon as we felt it.”

It was now Ryl's turn to be confused. He regarded the woman kneeling beside him with a perplexed look.

“I'm afraid it will be a hard lesson for all of us to learn, but a lesson we will learn together,” Kaep commiserated. “Your journey to find the phrenics is complete. Your true adventure begins now.”

Chapter 25

The gravity of her statement had yet to sink in when the ponderous quiet of the small room was abruptly interrupted by the strident entrance of a jovial man. Close at his heels followed a second younger individual. The telltale white robes and apron tied around his ample waist easily identified the man’s station. He was a mender. Both he and the other who’d arrived in his wake were panting heavily as they struggled to catch their breath.

“I see our young friend is finally awake,” the mender wheezed between gasps. “By the way you scared young Ticco here and the pace at which the phrenic raced through the city, I’d thought the

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