Chapter 30 · No Safe Border

"Move!" Kael's voice cut through the crack of gunfire.

Cyrus didn't think. He threw himself flat as the bullet punched through canvas and someone in the lead wagon screamed. Not a kid. One of the other drivers.

Blood dripped from Kael's neck where his override had torn through her command chain mark ten minutes ago. She swayed on her feet, face white, but her blade was already out.

"They're flanking left!" The kid who'd stolen Cyrus's knife two days ago hung off the wagon side, pointing.

Three soldiers. Gray field armor. Moving through brush like they'd done this a thousand times.

Kael's old squad.

"Kael, don't—"

She vaulted off the wagon before he finished.

Hit the ground running. The tattoos on her arms flared under her torn sleeves, glowing hot, and Cyrus's stomach dropped because he knew what that meant.

She was burning ink. Burning memories.

The first soldier didn't see her coming. Her blade went in under his jaw. He dropped without a sound.

The other two opened fire.

Kael twisted wrong—too fast, her body doing things bodies weren't supposed to do. Bullets grazed her shoulder. Blood sprayed. She didn't slow.