Ezren held out an arm to Bex. She grabbed it and their heads knocked together. “Odd numbers,” Bex whispered. Grady put his arms around them in a makeshift huddle. “Just like we’re back on Belethea.” He reached out and pulled Foster into their knot. “Be strong. Be swift.” “But there’s no finish line,” Foster said. “No race.” “We’re always racing against time,” Bex answered, her ice-blue eyes like cold stars. “And may we always be faster.” “Belethea, mother of mountains and skies,” Ezren whispered. “Protect us,” they said together, another explosion reverberating through the metal walls.
