Sid POV

  “They’re not here.” Varun’s voice carried a sharp edge of tension as he hurried toward Sid, dodging through the scattered crowds at the busy waterfront.

  Rohan and Pallavi had been gone too long, forcing the pair to search every likely spot inside the camp. Varun could have split off to move faster and cover more ground alone, but Sid held him back. They were being watched, and Sid refused to reveal their hidden capabilities to the enemy.

  Years of fieldwork had ingrained a constant state of high alert in Sid. Especially within the camp. Because of this, he had spotted their stalker much earlier, back when they were still waiting for Rohan and Pallavi by the bonfire. The watcher wasn’t a random grunt, either. It was a member of George’s inner circle—the very person Sid had planned to contact and recruit later that day.

  “You think something happened to them?” Varun’s tone was deadly, holding a promise of swift retaliation rather than fear.

  “No, I hope not.” Sid heard the hollowness in his own voice as worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind. He had done everything right. He’d enforced the buddy system and drilled them constantly on how to counter Tony and George. Despite all his careful planning, a sickening certainty washed over him: something had gone wrong, and he was already too late.

  The note from their informant, Kiran, only fueled his anxiety. It warned that George and Tony were plotting something, but lacked any concrete details or a timeline. After the debacle with his gun, George had grown intensely paranoid, leaving no one immune to his suspicion—not even his second-in-command. He was playing his cards close to his chest.

  “Then they have to be here somewhere, right?” Varun clenched his fists, his gaze darting across the camp. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Did those bastards already make a move?”

  “No. A fight inside the camp would’ve drawn too much attention.”

  “Then what? Was the note a fake? A distraction to pull us away from Rohan and Pallavi?”

  Sid took a slow breath, his eyes flicking past Varun to ensure their stalker remained at a safe distance. “Possible, but unlikely. Someone’s tracking us, but they only started fifteen minutes ago. If the letter was the bait, they would’ve been tracking us from the moment we got it. And the letter was from Kiran; he wrote it in code.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “We’ve checked everywhere they could be inside the camp. Nothing. No signs of a fight either.” Sid turned his back on the crowd and set a brisk pace toward the main gate. “The only option left is to ask the garrison if anyone saw them leave.”

  Varun kept pace right behind him. “Do you really think the worst has happened?” He sounded almost prayerful, clinging to the fragile chance that they were overreacting.

  “Tony’s entire group is missing,” Sid pointed out, his logic cold and unwavering. “They’re supposed to be handling water collection, yet the tanks were empty. If we assume the note to be true, then it’s obvious; Tony’s behind their disappearance.”

  Sid didn’t need to look back to know how Varun took the news; the harsh sound of his friend grinding his jaw said it all.

  “Hey,” Sid called out, raising a hand as he walked up to the Garrison Leader by the main campfire. “I need your help with something.”

  Finding the man on their way to the gate was a massive relief. The Garrison Leader was one of the few level-headed people in the camp, and he commanded enough respect to make the guards talk without a fuss. Without him, Sid might’ve had to not-so-gently nudge the guards into revealing what they knew.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Sid caught movement. Their stalker was waving his arms in wide, deliberate motions. Sid’s mind raced. Was it just a casual stretch, or was he signaling for reinforcements?

  “What is it? How can I help?” the Garrison Leader asked, his deep, gravelly voice cutting through the ambient noise of the camp.

  Varun didn’t give Sid a chance to answer. “Rohan and Pallavi are missing,” he cut in, his words clipped and tense. “We think they’re in trouble.”

  The Garrison Leader stiffened, genuine alarm flashing across his weathered face before he tried to mask it. “Slow down. I’m sure they’re just somewhere in the camp. Have you checked the latrines?”

  Sid held the man’s gaze without blinking. “We checked. They weren’t there.”

  It was their first stop. Neither the guards stationed nor the bystanders near the side gate had seen Rohan or Pallavi. They’d even staked out the area for several minutes just to be sure. After all, the primitive camp latrines weren’t exactly a place to linger. Without the comforts of modern plumbing or an endless scroll of internet videos to pass the time, nobody spent a second longer in there than necessary.

  “Alright, follow me. I’ll check with the guards and have a few men ask around.” The Garrison Leader set off toward the main gate.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  They were almost there when the sound of rapid footsteps came from Sid’s blind spot. He turned to see George hurrying in their direction. George was trying to make his approach look like a casual coincidence, but Sid could tell he was making a direct beeline for them.

  “Hey, what’s going on, guys?” George’s fake sweetness felt like sandpaper on Sid’s nerves.

  “We’re looking for Rohan and Pallavi.” The garrison leader kept walking. He caught himself mid-sentence as he recognized George; clearly aware of the bad blood between the two factions, the older man took a steadying breath to recover. “Have you seen either of them today?”

  “Not this morning, no,” George feigned innocence before a malicious grin spread across his face. “Honestly, it might be too early to sound the alarm. They’re both adults, stuck in this camp for a week... maybe they just needed to blow off some steam.” He flashed a vulgar hand gesture, hiding it from the Garrison Leader’s line of sight but making sure Sid and Varun caught it.

  Varun stopped dead in his tracks, his brows drawing together in fury. He squared his shoulders, practically vibrating with the urge to fight, but Sid clamped a firm hand on his shoulder to hold him back and stepped in front of Varun, locking eyes with George. “You can leave. We don’t want your help.”

  George tilted his body to look past Sid, catching the eye of the Garrison Leader, who had stopped to look back at the commotion. “Naga told you about the roster changes, right?” George asked. He waited for the older man’s confirming nod before bringing his smug gaze back to Sid. “My team and I are officially part of the Garrison now. That means it’s literally my job to track down anyone missing from camp—including your horny little lovebirds.”

  If Sid had been merely apprehensive about Rohan and Pallavi’s fate before, now he dreaded it. George’s smug demeanor screamed that something else was in motion; a deeper plot that had slipped past Sid’s calculations. Tony and George had outplayed him. It was a classic divide-and-conquer strategy: they picked off his team members one by one until he was left completely isolated.

  A primal fury surged from the depths of Sid’s chest. It must have shown on his face, because George faltered, taking a sudden, wincing step back. But Sid clamped his jaw shut and shoved the anger down. He couldn’t afford to snap yet. He needed answers first. Before he unleashed hell, he had to find out exactly what they had done to Rohan and Pallavi.

  If Tony and George had truly gone after his team, there would be absolutely no mercy. Sid would burn down every established rule of engagement between delvers, including the ones protecting their families and other loved ones, if it helps ensure that both Tony and George paid in blood. Even if it delayed his entry into the hidden realm.

  “Fine,” Sid said. “Don’t get in our way. You won’t like how it ends.”

  “How could he help us?” Varun sneered, his words dripping with mockery. “He couldn’t even keep track of his own gun. What else do you expect from a stupid constable?”

  Sid braced for retaliation, his eyes locking onto George to track every twitch. But George merely stood rigid. His jaw clenched and his hands remained tightly clasped behind his back, the only betrayal of his mounting rage being the slight, trembling flex of his arm muscles. The man was fighting a desperate war to keep his outburst in check.

  Sid had spent hours briefing his team on how to handle Tony and George. While Tony had to be kept at a distance and taken out from afar, the best way to fight George was through psychological warfare, by attacking his ego. You need to be an archer for Tony and a matador for George.

  The man literally strutted around in his former superior officer’s uniform—not out of respect, but out of pure, venomous envy toward his betters. It was a textbook inferiority complex. Sid remembered the same thing in George’s psyche profile he’d read years into the future. He’d taught Varun and Pallavi to weaponise that insecurity, relentlessly belittling George until he fought with blind emotion rather than logic. However, the time was not yet ripe to start a fight. Especially when half their team was missing.

  Sid hauled Varun back by the shoulder, stepping up to act as a physical shield before the argument could spiral into an all-out brawl. But before he could utter a single calming word, the Garrison Leader strode right past him, turning around to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with George in a sudden, silent display of unified opposition.

  “That was uncalled for,” the Garrison Leader said, keeping his eyes fixed on Varun. “He’s just trying to help. I’ll not have you two starting fights inside the camp.”

  “Sorry,” Sid kept his gaze locked on the Garrison Leader, knowing his wrath might take over if he even glanced at George’s smug face. “Let’s not waste any more time standing around. The main gate.”

  He turned on his heel and marched toward the exit. The group soon arrived at the gates, where four guards were stationed. Two were keeping watch while the other two sorted weapons, but all four instantly snapped to attention at the sight of the Garrison Leader.

  “Did you see a young man and woman—Rohan and Pallavi—leave the camp?” The Garrison Leader gestured toward the heavy ledger used to track departures, then met Sid’s eyes, silently prompting him to provide a better description.

  “We’re looking for a very tall guy in a light green shirt and a girl in a black and red jacket.” Sid moved his gaze across the four guards of the garrison, noting one of them perked up at the description, likely having seen something earlier today.

  “Yeah, I saw them by the pond a while ago,” the guard spoke up. “Aditi, the healer, came running up to them and led them outside the camp.”

  A cold weight dropped in Sid’s chest. There was no longer any doubt—the Kurushingal family had made their move. Sid turned his head to see George failing to hide a cruel, triumphant smirk; the man was reveling in Sid’s dawning horror. The Kurushingal family was going to pay for this. But first, he had to find his friends.

  Sid turned back to the Garrison Leader, who was scanning the ledger. “Do you have anyone with a tracking skill—” The words died in his throat as a distant figure caught his eye. Pushing past the Garrison Leader to get a better vantage point, Sid zeroed in on the figure. It was Rohan, walking with a sluggish gait, dragging his feet, though there was no obvious blood or injury on him.

  “I see Rohan,” Sid said over his shoulder to silence the sudden murmurs. He no longer cared about hiding his enhanced vision. Let George realize he could see farther than others; let them factor it into their future plans. It wouldn’t matter, anyway. George and Tony didn’t have much of a future left to plan for. Sid would make certain of that.

  A quick glance backward confirmed Sid’s darkest suspicion: George’s face was split into a knowing, triumphant grin. Rohan walking back into camp wasn’t a lucky break or a daring escape. They had let him go. He was delivering a message.