Xalith lets out a low, amused sound. “Contained,” he echoes. “You mean controlled.”
“Yes.”
Maelrik’s gaze sharpens slightly. “And if it resists?”
“It will,” I reply without hesitation. “That is expected. No human likes to be under our control, yet that never meant anything. I can be quite persuasive with words. You know me, Brother.”
Xalith’s smile sharpens. “Then we have to move.”
“Yes.”
Veylan exhales slowly, the decision forming in real time behind his eyes. “Where is the human with the ability?"
“Hidden among lower territories,” I answer. “Buried where no one would think to look closely. She has survived this long by remaining unnoticed.”
Maelrik tilts his head slightly. “That won’t last.”
“No,” I agree. “It won’t.”
A brief silence follows, heavier now, no longer uncertain.
Veylan straightens. “Then we retrieve her.”
Xalith adds, without hesitation, “And if she refuses?”
I meet his gaze.
“She won’t be given the option.”
Maelrik’s voice cuts in, quieter but more precise. “Alive.”
“Yes,” I say. “Alive, functional, and intact.”
Drathis watches me carefully. “And once we have her?”
That is the simplest part.
“We make her useful.”
Veylan nods once, final. “Then it’s decided.”
Xalith’s grin widens into something openly dangerous. “I’ll prepare men.”
“No,” I say.
That stops him.
“This requires precision,” I continue. “Not spectacle.”
His eyes narrow. “You think I lack that?”
“I think,” I reply calmly, “you would break what we need.”
Veylan speaks. “Vaedros leads this. We already agreed on that.”
Xalith doesn’t like it. That changes nothing. I incline my head slightly.
“Then allow me to do my job,” I say.