ADRIAN

I steady myself as Kelvin and I stride through the heavy gates of the Haven. The air is colder than when we left, with tension clinging to the walls, and every guard’s eye sharper. Our footsteps echo in the courtyard, and I catch a dozen looks flick at us: suspicion, anger and questions unanswered.

Kelvin and I exchange a quick glance, we knew this would come.

The war room door looms ahead. Behind it, Father will sit, waiting, judging. We push it open.

The room is lit harshly by overhead fixtures, maps pinned to walls, guards arrayed in tight, watchful lines. At the head of the table sits him,...