HAVEN ✓

Twelve

"Pompous and wicked," Sol smirks. "Did I ever need such a reason to leave?"

I'm embarrassed that I wasn't able to defend myself nor Sol against Lucinda's remarks. I just stood there and let her look at me that way before Sol intervened. What if Sol's not around next time I'm confronted by a strange Outlander? And what if the assault didn't stop at nasty looks? It's obvious I'm not from this village, I'm sure she could tell by my clothing alone. What's to stop the next person from attacking me? I am in a village ran by a kidnapper, after all.

We march on, but I can't leave one thought behind—why were Lucinda and her daughter so jarred at Sol's return?

The streets begin to narrow as we approach a large cluster of buildings. The mud bricks that built these units are a much darker brown, making the buildings seem older, more weathered than the surrounding homes. It's as if all of Keir started here.

Goosebumps rise along my arms, despite the heat of the evening. This must be the Summus' quarters.

Sol stops in front of the central building, the tallest and most intimidating, and looks to me. The hint of worry in her gaze betrays the non-emotion on her face. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself, and nods to me. I return the gesture, ready to face Markee's kidnapper. I don't think about what I might have to do to get her back. If I do, my façade of confidence might crumble.

Sucking in a deep breath, Sol pushes open the wide double door. I will my stone-heavy feet to move, to stand beside Sol. Whatever she is sacrificing by bringing me here, I am grateful for it. We're in this together.

The creaking of the hinges are simultaneous with the turn of heads in our direction. The room blurs as my focus zeroes in on the dozens of Outlanders rubbernecking to witness our entrance, their faces a variety of expressions. Some eyebrows raise in curiosity, others gape in surprise. But all of them double take when their eyes land on me.

Suddenly, I don't feel so great.

The door slamming shut behind us echoes through the room full of stares, heightening my unease. I wipe my clammy hands on my shorts, but it doesn't help my nerves. Sol is the first one to break the silence.

"Old friends," she begins, walking toward the center of the room. There are conference tables on either side of her, a handful of Outlanders sitting at each. Oil lamps line the walls, bright light filling the room even as the sun sets. This must be some kind of meeting chamber, a strategist's habitat. At the front of the room is a dais upon which an empty throne sits. Sol notices this just as I do.

"I must see Summus Aspen," Sol continues. "Where is he?"

"You show up here for the first time in years, and we don't even get a hello?" a voice calls from the table on the left. It belongs to a middle-aged man, a humored smirk on his face. I chance a look at his companions and they all seem to be shocked into silence, but not displeased at Sol's presence. His chair creaks as he stands up, beaming at her, and the tension in the room dissolves. The man embraces Sol and dozens of voices fill the room, joyous at Sol's return and questioning what brings her back.

Sol's smile eases my anxiety, but I'm still hesitant to approach the crowd. These may be Sol's friends, but they're still the people responsible for capturing Markee, and possibly holding her prisoner. Just the thought of it chills my bones, and it is enough to hinder my trust in these strangers.

Sol senses my apprehension, and strides over to me, putting her arm around my shoulder in a show of companionship.

"This is Sophie. She is from the walled city of Herald, and she is here with me," Sol says, her tone offering no argument. She then explains how she came to find me and asks if the rumors were true, if the Summus on the search for someone. And was that someone Markee?

"Yes," the man who spoke earlier says. "Ryne arrived with a girl yesterday." He exchanges a look with one of his fellows. "This girl followed them?"

Quelling the urge to scream for Markee, I swallow. I can't always let Sol speak for me. I must find my own voice.

"I did," I confirm. "And I want her back."

The man regards me with a soft grin. "Sorry Princess, no can do," he volunteers. "Summus' orders."

I'm getting real tired of that nickname.

"We must speak with him," Sol insists, but the man shakes his head.

"He's still interrogating her," his voice drops to a humbled whisper. "We may have found a way to subdue the Skinwalkers."

Skinwalkers? Did I hear that right? This is the first I've heard of such a thing. There's no way Markee would know anything about the Outlander's enemies.

"I will set up a conference with him for you tomorrow at first light," the man offers. "It is the best I can do."

I turn to Sol, hoping she will protest that we have to speak with him now. I have to see Markee this instant. But her eyes seem to be focused on something far away, and I know that right now, I cannot win.

Sol says her goodbyes and we depart, leaving the old building in the dark. She is notably silent as we walk down the narrow streets, and something about the silence this time bothers me.

"Where are we going?" I ask, mostly to fill the lull. Sol seems to snap out of her blind focus, and I'm once again stunned by her next revelation.

"We are going to meet my sons."