brilliant, our psychic forefathers. Why did we forget?”
“Because our people like to forget things. Apparently, we believe ignoring and forgetting is as good as actually fixing problems.”
“Wish I could argue with you on that.” Scowling, he turned to the door. “I’ll contact the others. Arran and Suriana will assist, I know. We’ll leave Ager and Bjorn out of it unless we’re desperate.”
“Yes, they’ve earned their rest.” She glanced at her organizer. “Ruhi has been trying to get in touch with me. I’ll need to make a few calls to keep certain balls in the air.”
“You can do that while I gather our team.”
Payal held his eyes when he glanced back at her. “I’ll have to go back to Delhi for the occlusion.” She’d have had to return soon regardless, but she’d been hoping that her brain—calm and rested—would allow her to push things a little, give her an extra day or two before her need for the tumor medication went critical.
Yet there was no other viable choice.
They were anchors.
The first and last guard of a failing system.
This was their duty.
Canto turned right back around and moved until his chair was beside where she sat, the two of them facing in opposite directions. Reaching out to cup the back of her neck, he tugged her close for a kiss long and deep. “I’ll always be there.” Hot breath against her lips, his forehead pressed to hers. “A single thought and I’ll find a way to be by your side.”
Payal fisted her hand in his shirt. “Maintain the surveillance inside Vara.” Some might consider that a strange choice, but for Payal, it meant that in a place filled with enemies, she’d have one person on her side.
Her Mercant knight.
“A single thought, Payal.” Canto squeezed her neck. “And if I see a threat to you, I’ll take care of it.”
Payal felt no need to argue with him—she’d destroy anyone who hurt him, too. That was what it meant to be someone’s person.
Her temple pulsed softly, a whisper from the tumors growing deep in her brain.
Chapter 41
Research. Research. Research.
—Unofficial Mercant motto (per posting on family message thread)
AFTER CANTO PUT together the anchors who’d assist with the occlusion, they practiced the maneuver in the Substrate. “It’s so simple,” Canto said, his mind already working on multiple other possibilities using this technique. “Hard on my energy levels, but the merging with other anchor minds? It’s not difficult. Actually feels like I’m stretching out kinked muscles.”
Payal gave him a penetrating look. “For you,” she said precisely. “I’ve shadowed you on every merge, and I think you were born with the ability to be the nucleus for such large-scale actions.”
The nucleus.
That was exactly what it felt like, as if the other anchors were becoming part of him, part of a living cell. “What if I couldn’t do it?” he asked, his jaw clenching. “We’d have had the plan, but no one capable of putting it into play.”
Payal turned the full force of those beautiful, intelligent eyes on him, unblinking in her focus. “Canto, do you really believe it’s a coincidence that the anchor who reached out to bring us all together is also the same anchor with the ability to be the nucleus of a large-scale action?”
“I hear sarcasm, 3K.”
“You’re imagining it.” Straight face, but he felt her amusement in the bond between them. “I’m just asking a fact-based question.” She held up a hand when he would’ve argued—regal as a queen—and said, “What set you on the course of connecting us all? Do you remember?”
“Seeing the empaths rise and gather.” A once-stifled designation that was now a powerhouse.
“Was that the trigger, or did it just help you form your thoughts?”
Canto frowned, considered it. “I had a dream,” he said softly. “I’d almost forgotten that. It was this crazy, disjointed dream that showed anchors linked together in a constellation rather than as separate stars.”
Again, the image flared vividly against the screen of his mind. Of that constellation linked by lines of energy, so vivid and strong. Far stronger than the lonely stars alone in the Substrate. “It was so broken, that dream. But that image, it stuck with me.”
“Broken like the NetMind is broken?”
He sucked in a breath, stared at her. “Fuck, it was a message.” Now that she’d dragged him to the damn water, he couldn’t help but drink. “It’s still trying to help us, even though it’s dying.” Anger knotted his spine. The NetMind was as much a part of the Net as any one of