Twenty-six
The rock pressed in around Deva, a crawl-space too tight to turn in. The air was thin and cold. When she breathed in, she tasted dust and dirt, so dry she had to fight the urge to cough. She could smell her own body.
And she felt safe.
Nobody knew where she was, and even if someone did find this tunnel, none of those meatheads could squeeze in.
She closed her eyes. There was no real point having them open anyway, not when the only light came from a thin line, where a crack ran through to Siren’s office.
This was how she knew about Haven, from the time Siren had questioned—interrogated—Bug and Dart, back when they were dropped from the Hermes. This was where she first heard the name Brice. And this was where she’d heard Siren telling Soldier how she wanted rid of ‘that d
