Ethan manually piloted the mech, guiding it slowly across the ocean. The waters beneath shimmered calm and unbroken, no ripples of disturbance, no signs that anything had happened here.
With no clues to be found, he pushed the engines harder, angling Shatterstar toward Lyla's last recorded GPS location.
What lay beneath was less an island than a jagged reef rising from the sea, no more than two hundred meters around. Ethan zoomed in on the coordinates, and there it was on the display: Lyla's phone.
His heart sank at the sight.
The area around it bore clear signs of battle. Lyla and Astrid had fought here—and they had been attacked. Whoever their enemies were, they had been powerful. Ethan's eyes caught on a glimmer in the distance: a golden feather lodged in the reef.
A Golden Falcon's feather. Astrid's.
