Page 29 of Sixth
The clearing darkened by a shade that didn’t belong to night. Apex tipped his head and saw the second machine unfold from above the canopy, larger than the first, blunt and quiet. It carriedno lattice. It carried a single red point that fell from the round belly and touched the ground between his boots.
The point lifted and walked a clean line up the center of him, over his ribs and throat, along his mouth. It left him and climbed the air to Emmy. It paused at the hollow above her collar. It moved, small and slow, to the corner of her mouth and rested there.
Apex did not take his eyes off the light. He drew Emmy closer so her pulse stayed with his. Lume made a low sound nobody but them would everhear.
The sound deepened—no longer only Lume’s hum but something larger, vaster, moving through the forest around them. Leaves shimmered with color that wasn’t color, avibration that quivered the air. The ground throbbed once beneath theirfeet.
Lume’s wings flared to full brilliance. “Echo Predator returns,” she whispered, the words trembling. Her speech had improved dramatically, impressing thefoukkout of Apex. “Close. Soon.”
From far beyond the wreck came a resonance like an animal breathing through stone—deep, distorted, pulsing through roots and air alike. Emmy sensed it in her ribs, in the thin skin at her throat. It wasn’t a roar. It was a listening.
Lume spun in frantic circles, then darted toward a glade that shimmered with living light. “Come! Come!”
They ran. The hum followed, louder now, skipping through the forest in waves that bent the air. When they burst into the clearing, avast bloom towered at its center, its petals the color of sunrise glass, open wide and glowing from within. Each petalcurved inward like cupped hands offering sanctuary. The flower breathed, exhaling a mist that smelled faintly of honey andheat.
“In, in, in,” Lume hissed.
Apex caught Emmy’s hand and pulled her into the heart of the bloom. The petals were warm, almost silken, yielding beneath them. Light flowed through them in ripples, changing color with every breath. Gently, the petals began to close. When the last petal folded above them, the outside world vanished. The roar softened to a heartbeat’s echo, then to nothing.
They were enclosed in color and scent, gold and rose and something deeper, like lightning caught in velvet. The air was heavy with perfume, dizzying, sweet enough to steal thought. Emmy’s head swam. Apex’s heartbeat throbbed under her hand, heavy and sure, their pulses matching.
Outside, the forest trembled once, then stilled. The great petals sealed tighter, muffling Lume’s faint chatter.
Emmy exhaled slowly, her voice a whisper against the living hush. “You said soon,” she murmured, eyes half-lidded, the faintest wry smile touching her lips. “Is this soon?”
