Mira asked for a route out of the perimeter.
The commander answered by naming the east checkpoint. His guards would move the barrier there and let her followers through under escort. The injured man could be carried. A medical station stood beyond the crossing, though she could choose to continue toward her own people if she did not obstruct the road.
“And afterward?” she asked.
“Afterward I have the artifact, and you aren’t carrying it through live machinery.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
His eyes hardened. “I’m offering passage, not an agreement about everything that may happen after this emergency.”
Mira looked back at the engineer. The woman stood close enough to hear, keeping one shoulder beneath the injured supporter’s unhurt arm. The man had gone pale around the mouth. The rough route they had considered would take him under a broken arch and across two narrow turns without a proper litter. Behind the commander stood more guards than had been there when the discussion began.
They were losing the option to fight while arguing about what a promise meant.
