Page 131 of The Alien in the Archive

I nod, squaring my shoulders. I feel the weight of the cuffs as they snap around my wrists, but I don’t let it drag me down. I walk between them, back straight, head high, as they lead me out of the cell and into the blinding light of the hallway.

The air feels sharper out here, colder. Our footsteps echo against the floor as we walk, and I force myself to focus on the rhythm of each step. One, two. One, two. A steady drumbeat to drown out the noise in my head.

The walls blur past me—familiar corridors I oncewandered as a shadow, unseen and unnoticed. Now, every step feels like a spectacle. I can sense the whispers, the curiosity that follows me.

I don’t care. Let them look.

I need to be seen if I’m to atone.

As the Tribunal chamber doors open, the sound hits me all at once—a wall of voices, murmurs, shuffling movements. I squint against the sudden brightness, my senses sharpening as I take it all in.

The chamber is vast, impossibly so, the ceiling arching high above like the inside of a cathedral. The Tribunal sits at the far end, their seats arranged in a half-circle beneath the banners of the Pact species. A representative from each Pact species is there: Skoll, Merati, Nyeri’i, Mlok, Jotunbei, and Human. These are scholars, not generals or politicians, and I hope that works in my favor—especially since the Skoll representative is Davina Ferhalda.

Unfortunately, the Nyeri’i representative is Kaelion Rhyss.

I walk forward, flanked by the guards, their footsteps a measured rhythm alongside mine. The murmurs hush as I approach.

And then I see her.

Page.

She’s sitting in a section near the Tribunal, Riley and Thalara on either side of her. Her back is straight, her hands folded in her lap, but I know her well enough to spot the tension in her shoulders. She’s holding herself together by force of will alone.

Still, she smiles at me, nodding as if this is all going according to plan.

For the first time in hours—maybe longer—I breathe.

The bond doesn’t reconnect. I still can’t hear her, not with the cuffs interfering with our connection. But it doesn’tmatter. She’s here. She’s fighting for me, and that’s enough to keep me going.

I stop in the center of the room, the guards falling back. The Merati security administrator rises from his seat, pale robes gleaming in the bright light.

“Thorne Valtheris,” he says, his voice echoing through the chamber, “you stand before M’mir’s Tribunal as a fugitive. Do you understand the charges brought against you?”

“Yes,” I reply, my voice steady.

“And do you admit to them?”

“I do.”

The murmurs rise again, loud and curious, before Davina’s voice cuts through it, clear and sharp.

“If I may, Administrator Kyral,” she says, stepping forward. “Before judgment is passed, I would like to present evidence on behalf of the accused.”

I watch her, and then I watch Page. Her eyes meet mine across the distance, silver-grey and steady as steel, and in that moment, I know one thing with certainty.

We’ll make it through this.

51

PAGE

The chamber where they’re holding the Thorne’s tribunal is drafty and echoing—a symposium room, usually, but now it feels more like a criminal trial. Every whispered voice, every shifting movement bounces off the high dome above, amplifying the pressure until it feels like I can’t breathe.

And everyone else’s thoughts…they’re deafening.

My one saving grace in all this is that Lyn seems to have decided not to tell Dr. Rhyss—or anyone—about my powers. If she had, I would be in a whole lot more trouble, and we planned for those consequences…but she didn’t.

So now, I have to sit here and listen to all these chattering minds.

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