Teorin fell into step behind Jeron as they exited the airport terminal. The parking lot was nearly empty, with only a few scattered cars. Most employees probably took the rail line that fed into the airport. But Jeron didn’t lead him toward the station. Instead, he headed straight for a sleek four-passenger car, moving with the same quiet urgency that told Teorin this wasn’t just a casual ride.

  Apparently, Novem had resources to spare for this. Jeron pulled out the keys and unlocked the doors. Teorin tossed his bags into the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat. Jeron pulled out of the parking spot and headed toward town.

  For a moment, silence filled the car. Teorin wanted to ask where they were going, but there was another conversation that had to happen first, one he’d been dreading. He didn’t want to be the one to start it. He’d had way too much time to think about what had happened with the drive. Every mistake. Every moment he could have changed.

  The airport had been too public for Jeron to ask about the mission, but with the broken comm band, Teorin hadn’t given a full report yet. He’d sent a brief signal from the outpost where he’d slept—nothing specific, just that he was alive and that things had gone wrong. He hadn’t dared to send more over open broadcast lines. Besides, Marcus had been long gone by then.

  Jeron kept his gaze locked on the road, his grip on the wheel tight. His knuckles were white, his usual calm strained. Finally, he spoke. “What in the cascades happened, Teorin?” His voice was controlled, but there was an edge to it. “All we’ve had from you is radio silence. Were you attacked?”

  Teorin grimaced. “Yes.”

  He still wasn’t sure how this conversation would go. Jeron had sent him in unprepared, but Teorin had made mistakes too—like that busted comm band.

  “The drive?” Jeron asked.

  Teorin winced. “I don’t have it.”

  Jeron’s hands tightened on the wheel. “What happened?”

  “Marcus was waiting. He stunned me and took the drive. It’s my fault. I should have seen it coming. But he was way more prepared than I was.”

  “Why didn’t you send something immediately?”

  Teorin pulled the broken comm band from his backpack. “It got caught in a burst.”

  Jeron cursed under his breath. His hands flexed on the wheel, tension radiating off him in waves.

  “I’m sorry,” Teorin said quietly. “I should have been more careful.”

  Jeron nodded, but his face was unreadable. Was he furious? Disappointed? Teorin tensed, bracing for whatever came next. Jeron wasn’t unreasonable, but the drive had clearly been important. There might not be much leeway for failure.

  “Was it just Marcus?” Jeron finally asked.

  “No.” Teorin exhaled slowly. “I was ambushed in Jarangua first. Three people, at least two of them were Heatsingers. One of them was Sasha Niolin. I figured someone would be watching the outpost, but I didn’t expect it to be Marcus.” He hesitated. “It may not have mattered who was there, though. They put a lot of resources into getting that drive. Marcus even had a key to the outpost.”

  Jeron let out a long breath. “Mercy. My apologies, Teorin. I sent you in without proper preparation or warning, apparently. I expected resistance, but nothing like this.”

  He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. “I should have known better. I should have sent backup. That’s on me.” He tapped his fingers lightly on the wheel, his thoughts already moving forward. “Marcus had a key?”

  Teorin felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. “Yeah. I’m not totally sure where he got it. My best guess is that Isi got one from Trevor. Marcus said he didn’t steal it, and while I don’t trust his intentions, he’s usually truthful.”

  “Usually might be a stretch,” Jeron muttered, “but you’re right. If he got the key from Trevor, that’s something we’ll have to worry about in the future.” He drummed his fingers once more. “I expect a full report later, but right now, something else has come up.”

  Right. The reason Teorin was here. Something important enough for Jeron to call in a favor from Delar. “Something else?”

  “You heard about the expedition to Torolt that left a few months ago?”

  Teorin nodded. “Sure. There’s always some expedition or other.” It hadn’t seemed particularly noteworthy at the time.

  “Well, they’ve returned.”

  “And they found something?”

  “Correct.” Jeron jerked his chin toward the backseat. “See for yourself.”

  Teorin reached behind him, grabbing a briefcase and pulling it into his lap. He unsnapped the clasps, revealing hundreds of pages. They looked like scans of a book or manuscript, all in an alien language. Some had intricate drawings of plants, others were dense with writing. A few of the characters looked vaguely familiar. “Trevor had some pages locked away that looked similar. I think it’s the same language. I still have the scans.”

  “Good. We might need them. Marcus didn’t take them?”

  “No. He took the drive and a notebook with the name Jace Rafinin on it, but he left everything else.”

  Jeron’s eyes sharpened. “Jace? That was Isi’s father.”

  “I know. Marcus said he took it for Isi. I didn’t get a chance to read it, but I scanned a few pages before deciding to take the whole thing.”

  Teorin flipped through the documents in front of him, holding up a page with a detailed sketch of a native jongo flower. “Do you have any idea what’s on these? Flower drawings don’t seem particularly promising.”

  Jeron grimaced. “We got a partial translation, words mostly. But it’s important. That’s our task now. We’re headed to the office of Dr. Kara Tanel, one of the best translators of ancient Aralian on the planet.”

  Teorin could already guess what that meant. “You think these pages might be the key to getting off-planet. That they hold something—information, coordinates, anything—that could help.”

  “Yes. Or at the very least, something that leads to it.”

  The drive. Now these pages. Important documents seemed to be cropping up everywhere.

  “I know Trevor disappeared before the expedition returned, but the timing is suspicious. He could read ancient Aralian, right? Could these be connected? Trevor vanishing, then suddenly these pages turn up?”

  Jeron pursed his lips. “I’ve considered it, but I don’t see a direct link. You’re right, though, the timing is convenient. Trevor was our in-house translator for the Novar. Not as skilled as this professor is supposed to be, but good. Maybe taking him out was a precaution. Just in case we found something?”

  His jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “We’ve sent out plenty of expeditions. It makes more sense for something else to have triggered his disappearance. Maybe he found something and didn’t have time to report it. Or maybe,” he exhaled sharply, “it really is all just coincidence. Though that’s hard to believe.”

  Teorin frowned. If Trevor wasn’t missing, would it be Trevor here instead of him? “So why am I here? I’m no translator. For that matter, why are you here? This doesn’t seem like something that requires a Temporal.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Jeron’s ability to de-age artifacts was invaluable, but unless these pages were damaged beyond repair, there wasn’t much for him to contribute to a translation. Which meant he was here for some other reason.

  “Why send us for this?” Teorin pressed. “Talking to a professor doesn’t seem worth dragging me across the continent, especially when you had to call in a favor from Delar.”

  Jeron let out a slow breath. “Principally, we’re here because of an unfortunate personnel choice. One of the men on the expedition has a... drinking problem. The moment they got back to shore, he went straight to the closest bar and, of course, decided to inform the entire establishment of what they’d found.”

  Teorin groaned. “Loose lips sink ships.”

  “Exactly. I would have liked to keep this quiet, but we’re not going to have that luxury. I was hoping nothing would come of it, but after what you just told me about Jarangua, I’m less optimistic. My guess? The da Silvas already have their eye on this.”

  Teorin’s stomach sank. “We aren’t exactly on the fringes of civilization. Would they send mercenaries?”

  Jeron’s expression darkened. “It’s hard to say. If they think they can bribe local officials or slip someone in and out without raising suspicion? Yes, I think they would.”

  Great. Teorin wanted another shot at those Heatsingers, but he’d been hoping for that chance much, much later.

  “I understand why you’re here,” Teorin said carefully. “But why send me?”

  Jeron smiled. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a skilled Pulser. That’s reason enough.”

  Teorin narrowed his eyes. “Come on. If that was all, they’d send a Pulser with more combat experience.”

  Jeron’s hands tightened on the wheel. A flicker of something—hesitation? Frustration?—crossed his face. He’s holding something back.

  Teorin didn’t press. Not yet. He just waited, fiddling with the knob on the window crank, watching the trees flash past. He knew Jeron. If he stayed silent long enough, the answer would come.

  Sure enough, after a long pause, Jeron sighed. “Do you remember the last expedition your father went on?”

  Teorin’s chest tightened. “I remember that he never came back.”

  Jeron grimaced. “Yes. But do you know why he went?”

  Teorin stared at him. “I was nine when he disappeared.” His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. “But Mom always said he thought he’d figured it out. He was going to find the cache. He was going to come home, and we’d finally be able to rejoin the rest of the galaxy.”

  Jeron nodded. “Yes. I remember the day he left. He was so sure this would be it. That this time, he’d find the answer.” His voice was calm, but there was something heavier beneath it. “It didn’t turn out like we expected. But they did find something.”

  Teorin tensed. They found something? How had he never heard this?

  Jeron kept his gaze on the road. “They made a discovery, and they sent one of their team members, Cassius, back on a scouting ship to report. He brought us documents, things we had never seen before. Completely new finds. But when Cassius returned... your father’s team was gone.”

  Teorin felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.

  Jeron pressed on, unfazed. “We’ve spent years trying to decipher your father’s notes and the documents Cassius brought back. Your father’s team was onto something, Teorin. They were close. His notes led us directly to this expedition. The led us to uncover this document.”

  He nodded toward the briefcase in Teorin’s lap. “That’s why I requested this assignment. And why I pulled some strings to have you assigned with me.”

  Teorin’s grip tightened on his knee. “I never asked for that.”

  “I know.” Jeron’s voice was steady. “But I thought that at least one of Geran’s sons should be there when we find out if all his work will finally lead us off this godforsaken planet.”

  Teorin’s jaw clenched. “And you never told me this before?”

  Jeron didn’t look at him. His focus remained on the road. “Novem classified the information.”

  “Classified?” Teorin’s voice was rising. “I know I’m not officially part of the Novar yet, but you don’t think his family deserved to know?”

  Jeron’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I told your mother. Not everything, but what I could.”

  Teorin scoffed. “Why? Why not tell us?”

  Jeron exhaled through his nose. “Did you watch the video I sent with Delar?”

  Teorin hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah. It was…” How was he supposed to describe it? Disturbing? Sinister? He exhaled slowly. “Ominous.”

  “Exactly.” Jeron’s knuckles went white against the steering wheel. “Let’s just say that knowing too much seems to be a dangerous lifestyle choice.”

  Teorin stared out the window. A lifestyle choice I just unknowingly made. Was he going to have to start watching over his shoulder every second? His father. Trevor. And if he remembered right, Isi’s parents had died in a plane wreck. Could that have been related?

  People did disappear. People did die.

  “Who do you think is behind all of this?” Teorin asked quietly. “Someone in the Clans?”

  Jeron shook his head. “Maybe, but even Clan members who know too much have vanished or turned up dead. The Enigma—that’s our codename for them—has reach, influence. The Clans may be difficult at times, but they still want to get off this planet.”

  Jeron let out a humorless laugh. “Of course, that gives them an excuse to be nosy. It wouldn’t be all the Clans, but it could be an individual, a family. Cascades, it could be someone completely outside the Clans. Whoever they are, they’re good at covering their tracks.”

  Teorin swallowed hard. “And you’re telling me this now?”

  Jeron nodded toward the glove compartment. “Yes. I did say that after that last mission, you’d be an official Novar operative. Your ID card is in there.”

  “You also said the mission was a test,” Teorin said. “And I seem to have failed spectacularly.”

  Jeron didn’t hesitate. “You lost the drive.” A pause. “But you recovered plenty of other documents, things that might help us figure out what Trevor was up to before he vanished. Besides…”

  Jeron’s gaze flicked toward him, and for the first time, Teorin saw something like regret. “I sent you in unprepared. You don’t get to take all the blame.”

  Teorin pulled an envelope out of the glove box. He opened it, and sure enough, out slid an ID card with Teorin’s name and the title Novar operative.

  The Novar. Jeron was a member. His father had been a member. Now Teorin was.

  “Alright then, I am tired of being in the dark, so brief me.”

  Jeron nodded grimly. “Like you saw in the video, the circumstances around the first burst didn’t sit right with Captain Rafinin,” Jeron said. “Too many coincidences. He thought the whole disaster was engineered, so before he died, he helped found Novem: with one public arm and one secret one. Officially sanctioned, but not technically part of the government. He wanted insulation from corruption.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Well, there is quite a bit more in the official training video, but we don’t have time for any of that now. We’re almost there.”

  “So, if we tell this professor, aren’t we putting her in danger?”

  Jeron nodded, his face even more serious than before. “Yes, unfortunately, but we have to do something. We need whatever information this document has, and we need it sooner rather than later. There isn’t any safe path now. Having the document is dangerous. Having the information is dangerous. Not having the information may destroy our chances of getting off the planet without outside help.”

  “If it’s so dangerous, why don’t we just go to the government? Hand it over to someone else?”

  “Frankly? Because I’m not entirely sure who in the government I can trust.”

  “What if we just release it? Go public and put it up on the net? Whoever this mystery group or person is, they can’t make everyone disappear, right?”

  Jeron shook his head. “That would work if the only thing that we were worried about was the disappearances. That’s a concern, but you’re forgetting why people are disappearing. The document is dangerous because it might contain important information. My real hope is that it might contain some kind of map to the cache of statherium.”

  “Have you ever seen it?” Teorin whispered. “The cache?”

  Their confidence in the cache’s existence came from the Temporals. They could see through time, sometimes, but it was difficult to control.

  Jeron sighed. “Once. I saw it once. Underground. That’s all I learned.” He grimaced. “Time seeing is… difficult.”

  Jeron continued, “Regardless, we are getting off topic. If we just release the document to the public, then everyone has that information, including the Enigma. If they solve the puzzle before us, what’s to stop them from reaching Torolt or wherever first? They could destroy whatever information or resources are there. They don’t need to make people disappear, just the things we’re looking for. The result is the same.”

  That was a good point. It made Teorin uneasy. Who would even want to do something like that and why?

  They pulled into a parking lot that appeared to be connected to the university. They parked and sat in silence for a few seconds before Teorin said, “Do we have any chance of succeeding here? Getting off planet seems like an insurmountable goal sometimes, but doing that while some unknown, powerful group tries to prevent us from doing so? It’s just…”

  “Overwhelming?” Jeron prompted.

  Teorin nodded.

  “Believe me, I know what you mean, but we don’t know what we don’t know. Maybe they aren’t as powerful as we assume. Either way, we have to keep moving forward.”

  “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to say it’s hopeless. It’s just a lot to take in.”

  Jeron nodded. “We should go but keep an eye out. After your experience in Jarangua, I suspect this could be more difficult than I assumed. Speed is going to be our friend here.”

  Teorin carefully stacked the pages back into the briefcase.

  Jeron started to open the door but then paused. “One more thing, I don’t expect it to, but if something goes wrong, I want you to get the professor and the pages out. I can deal with anyone that shows up. If we get separated, rendezvous at the university tower as soon as you can. It’s tall enough that if you can get on the roof, you should at least have an escape route, and it is open to the public until late.”

  Teorin hoped this would be a simple meeting, followed by a quick trip to Novem headquarters. He had been chased enough in the last few days, but he had the feeling that he might not be able to rest for a good while. “Understood. Let’s just hope that things go smoothly.”

  Jeron nodded, and they both climbed out of the car.

  Teorin clenched his jaw. This wasn’t just another mission. It was bigger than anything he’d faced before.

  And he wasn’t sure he was ready.