The Whispercoil's massive head lowered, bringing those needle teeth closer to his face, and Eneji did the only thing he could think of.
He grabbed the creature's snout with both hands.
Stupid? Absolutely. Suicidal? Probably. But the moment his palms made contact with those iridescent scales, his scar erupted with golden fire.
The Whispercoil's psychic scream tore through his skull like broken glass, but underneath the pain was something else. Connection. He could feel the creature's thoughts, alien and hungry, but also... confused. Lost.
What are you? it whispered into his mind, and for the first time its mental voice carried uncertainty instead of predatory confidence.
"I don't know," Eneji said through gritted teeth, his hands burning where they touched the creature's scales. "But I'm not food."
The Starweave flowing through him wasn't the gentle healing energy he'd used on Mira. This was something raw and violent, like trying to channel lightning through his veins. But it was working. The Whispercoil's coils loosened, its massive body thrashing as it tried to pull away from his touch.
That's when the screaming in the distance got louder.
And closer.
Much closer.
Something crashed through the marsh behind them, sending up sprays of stagnant water. Whatever it was, it was big. And fast. And making a sound like a steam engine having a nervous breakdown.
The Whispercoil's head snapped up, its silver eyes widening. Hunters, it hissed. The brass men come.
"Covenant patrol," Lira breathed. "They followed us."
The creature's attention shifted from Eneji to the approaching sounds, and he felt its alien mind calculating distances, escape routes, survival chances. Then, without warning, it released them.
"Go," the Whispercoil said, its voice no longer the seductive whisper from before. Now it sounded almost... urgent. "The star-scar burns too bright. They will find you."
It sank beneath the water's surface, leaving only ripples and the lingering taste of copper thoughts in Eneji's mind.
"Move," he said, hauling Mira up in his arms. "Now."
They splashed through the marsh as quietly as they could manage, which wasn't very quiet at all. Behind them, the mechanical screaming grew louder. Steam hissed. Brass clanked against brass.
"There!" Lira pointed ahead through the mist. "The outpost."
It squatted on the only solid ground for miles, a fortress of scrap metal and industrial machinery. Brass walls topped with razor wire, guard towers with sweeping searchlights, and at the center a squat keep with furnace-bright windows.
Where they were holding Thane.
The sounds of pursuit were getting closer. Whatever Covenant patrol was following them, they'd be here in minutes.
"We need to get inside," Eneji said. "Fast."
"Inside?" Lira stared at him. "That's a fortress. Full of guards. With weapons."
"It's also the last place they'll look for us." He hoped. "And if we're going to rescue Thane anyway..."
A searchlight swept over them, and they both dropped flat in the marsh grass. The beam passed inches over their heads, illuminating the reeds around them in harsh white light.
"Fuck this," Lira muttered. "Lead the way."
They crawled through the mud on their bellies, Mira somehow managing to stay asleep through the whole thing. The kid had either developed nerves of steel or just accepted that her life was completely insane now.
The outpost's perimeter was a muddy expanse ringed by those brass walls, littered with rusted gears and broken machinery. Probably debris from the watchtower's construction, left to rust in the perpetual damp. The Starfall Rift cast everything in shifting colors, purples and golds that made the scattered metal gleam like treasure.
A guard walked the perimeter, his brass armor plates reflecting the Rift's otherworldly light. Young guy, maybe eighteen, with the soft face of someone who'd never seen real combat. His left leg dragged as he walked, crude bandages visible through a gap in his armor.
Injured. Recent, from the look of it.
"Stay here," Eneji whispered to Lira, passing Mira to her. "Keep her quiet."
"What are you doing?"
"Something stupid."
He slipped through the scattered debris, using chunks of rusted machinery for cover. The injured guard was limping along the wall, probably trying to work off the stiffness. Easy target.
Too easy.
Eneji's hand closed over the guard's mouth just as the young man started to turn. They went down together in a tangle of limbs and clanking armor.
"Don't make a sound," Eneji hissed. "I'm not going to hurt you."
The guard's eyes were wide with terror. He nodded frantically.
"Good. What's your name?"
"Marcus," came the muffled reply when Eneji pulled his hand away. "Marcus Kaine. Listen, I don't want trouble. I just joined up last month."
"Your leg. What happened?"
Marcus winced. "Marsh trap. Yesterday. Fucking thing nearly took my leg off. Medic did what he could, but..." He gestured helplessly at the bloodstained bandages. "It's not healing right."
Eneji could smell the infection starting to set in. The kid was in real pain, trying to do his job despite an injury that probably should have had him in a medical tent instead of walking patrol.
His scar began to warm.
The smart thing would be to knock Marcus unconscious and find another way inside. Using his power here, this close to a Covenant stronghold, would be like lighting a signal fire. They'd know exactly what he was.
But the kid was hurt. And young. And scared in a way that reminded Eneji of himself not so long ago.
"This is going to feel strange," he said, placing his hand over the bandaged wound. "Try not to scream."
The power that flowed out of him was unlike anything he'd experienced before. Not the gentle warmth he'd used on Mira, not even the violent surge that had faced down the Whispercoil. This was pure creation, absolute restoration, life itself flowing through his fingers like molten gold.
He felt Marcus's injury in perfect detail. The torn muscle, the severed blood vessels, the fragments of rusted metal still embedded in the flesh. And with surgical precision, he began to fix it.
The world around him faded to nothing. There was only the wound, the power, and the incredible sensation of broken things becoming whole. For a moment that stretched into eternity, Eneji touched something vast and perfect and terrifying.
Then the vision hit him.
A golden shard, geometric and flawless, floating in an endless void. It pulsed with its own light, and with each pulse reality rippled around it like water. Other shards orbited it, thousands of them, each one containing what looked like a fragment of a dying star.
And in the center of it all, something that might have been a throne. Empty, waiting, carved from crystallized light itself.
The vision shattered, leaving him gasping and half-blind. When his sight cleared, Marcus was staring at his leg in wonder. The bandages had fallen away, revealing skin that was pale but perfectly healed. Not even a scar remained.
"How..." Marcus breathed.
That's when the alarms started.
Brass horns wailed across the compound, their sound echoing off the metal walls like screaming giants. Searchlights swiveled toward their position, cutting through the marsh mist in blazing cones.
"Starweave signature detected!" someone shouted from the guard towers. "Class Seven energy reading, northwest perimeter!"
Marcus looked from his healed leg to Eneji's face, understanding dawning in his young eyes. "You're him. The one from Duskholme. The one they're hunting."
Eneji's vision was still swimming from the effort of healing, his hands shaking with exhaustion. The power had cost him more than he'd expected. But Marcus was whole again, and that had to count for something.
Even if it had just gotten them all killed.
"Yeah," he said, struggling to his feet as boots pounded toward them across the compound. "I'm him."