Caleb. Already rotting from the inside out, his body failing under the weight of something that had sunk its claws into him long ago. He was in stasis now—frozen, preserved, held in place so the corruption wouldn’t spread, so it wouldn’t finish what it started. But the fact remained that he was already too far gone.
Agnes absorbed this with unreadable silence.
Eleanor’s mouth tightened. “Then we were already too late.”
“No,” Daisy said. “Not necessarily.”
Agnes arched a brow. “Explain.”
Daisy inhaled slowly. “Caleb is dying. That thing inside him is eating him. If he was the summoner, the Ke’tala should’ve used him as its permanent anchor. But he’s breaking. Deteriorating.” She shook her head. “It wouldn’t choose a failing vessel. Not if it wanted to stay.”
Eleanor’s fingers drummed
