Page 44 of Autumn L.A.W

“Tell me that cable has been inspected,” Sahara said without looking away.

Beside her, Ezra Vale held his hands behind his back in the way men did when they were pretending to be calm.

“It’s been inspected,” he said. “Twice. Yesterday and again this morning.”

“By someone competent?”

“Yes.”

“Someone sober?”

“Yes.”

She narrowed her eyes at the hoisted container. “Are you sure?”

Ezra sighed. “Sahara…”

“What?”

“If I tell you it was personally blessed by a saint and triple-checked by a committee of angels, would you feel better?”

“No.”

“Then why are we still playing this game?”

“Because that box contains a prisoner in stone that thinks I’m its favorite podcast guest,” she snapped. “Forgive me for needing a moment.”

The crane swung the dark red container slowly over the stacked rows already secured on deck. It looked so ordinary. Like just another color in a metal skyline.

No one nearby knew what was inside. No one saw the layered runes etched discreetly along the container’s inner frame. No one heard the faint psychic pressure Sahara carried behind her eyes like an impending headache.

Ezra did. Or at least, he understood it without asking her to explain. He stood close enough that she felt the calm weight of him, but not so close that he became another thing she had to manage. That was Ezra all over: careful, deliberate, offering steadiness like a hand held out at the ready, palm-up.

“It doesn’t think,” he said mildly. “Not the way we do.”

“It remembers,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed softly. “And that could be worse.”

“I hate that for us. By the way… You don’t need to be here. This is the League’s problem. Why does it matter to you?”

He hesitated so long, she didn’t think he was going to answer her question at all.

The container descended. Dockhands shouted. A deck officer in a high-visibility vest gave instructions with the kind of forced politeness that meant he was very aware they were transporting something “sensitive,” even if he didn’t recognize or believe in magic.

“Because you need me. You don’t realize it yet, but you do. And you never told your fellow witches about your tether to the obelisk’s prisoner.”

She snorted. “If I’d told them, they would have all insisted on coming along. I don’t need Joell bossing me or Rayna threatening me. Heck, I don’t even need Brianna offering to time-travel for me. She could get stuck so far in the past I’d have no reference for it.”

“And you’d do anything to protect them all, even Lioness.”

She groaned. “Especially Lioness.”

The container settled into place with a deep, final-sounding metallic thud. Chains clanked. Locks snapped. Paperwork changed hands.

And just like that, the obelisk and its prisoner disappeared into the anonymous geometry of global shipping.

Sahara’s shoulders did not relax.