Colony in Danger: CH 9 | Trapped in Beetle Territory | Fire Ant Adventure Story

Fire ants don't enter beetle territory. Cinder Marlowe just did — and now his whole team is locked in a hollow log while the beetles prepare to use them as bait at dawn.

This fire ant adventure story follows Cinder, Blaze, Thistle, and Silas as they cross the border, face Rook Calder, and discover something nobody expected: the beetles are starving too.

For fans of Empires of the Undergrowth and AntsCanada — Colony in Danger is built on real fire ant science. The border marking system, territorial behavior, and colony starvation dynamics in this chapter are all grounded in how fire ant colonies actually work.

▶ Start from Chapter 1 of this story: A Colony In Danger
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Colony in Danger follows Cinder Marlowe, a fire ant scout who discovers his colony's food stores are being systematically stolen — and nobody in charge will listen. Every chapter is grounded in real fire ant science: colony structure, forager behavior, territorial marking, predator threats, and the biology of how fire ant colonies actually survive.

For boys who love ants, insects, and real-world science wrapped in a story that doesn't talk down to them. New chapters weekly on Compass & Codex.

Read by Reed Sterling. Never Stop Exploring Unknown Worlds.

#FireAnts #AntColony #ColonyInDanger

I am the author of serialized fiction books for kids, teens, tweens and young adults, including:

- Brickhaven: A Bricks Fan Fiction Adventure

- Colony In Danger: A Fire Ant Adventure

- Eagle's Edge: A Story of Rome, Gaul and the Making of a Soldier

- Treasure Island: A Classic Adaptation

- Iron Rails & Ruin: A Novel of Steam, Sorcery and the Lawless Montana Territory

📚 All five books -- are now available on Amazon: https://us.amazon.com/stores/Reed-Sterling/author/B0H2ZM86WQ

📖 Wanna check out all five series for yourself?  Get all five Chapter 1s free: https://compass-codex.kit.com/middle-school-reader-group

Thank you for listening!  This is Reed Sterling.  Remember: Never stop exploring unknown worlds.

Transcript

Fire Ant Colony — Entering Beetle Territory

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Fire ants don't leave the safety of their colony, and they never travel into beetle territory uninvited. Cinder Marlow just did both, and now he and his friends are trapped. This is Compass and Codex. Never stop exploring unknown worlds.

Fire Ant Border — The Warning Marks

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Colony in danger a fire ant adventure. Chapter nine Unwelcome Territory Scene one Sunrise had barely pushed the chill from the ground when Thistle called a halt. Stop, now no more noise, she hissed. Cinder braked so hard he almost skidded into her back. Blaze, trailing just behind, managed a perfect pivot, muscles tight, chin up. Silas slammed into Blaze, ricocheted off, and tumbled into the dirt with a squeak. Thistle crouched, antennae parallel to the earth. She pointed ahead, past the tangle of grass and outcropped stones, to a line of tree bark that zigzagged along the horizon. At first it looked like any other ridge, but Cinder saw it, vertical scratch marks, dozens of them, some shallow, others gouged deep enough to catch the light. Each groove was spaced just so, deliberate, intentional. Border marks, Thistle whispered. Scout story was right. Beetle territory starts here. Cinder's mouth dried out. You sure it's not possum? She shot him a look. Possums don't sign their territory. Beetles do. They warn before they attack. She paused, eyes tracking the lowest groove.

Fire Ants vs. Beetles — Rook Calder's Challenge

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Or before they eat you. Silas shifted from foot to foot, the movement telegraphing his panic. Do we just walk in? Is there a passphrase or something? Cinder smirked. Yeah. You knock twice, say please. And hope they don't kill you anyway. Blaze grunted, not amused. What's the plan, Sin? Same as before, Cinder said. We look for evidence. Talk our way out of trouble if we have to. Worst case, run and hope Blaze slows them down. Blaze flexed his shoulders, a silent agreement. Thisle took the lead, picking a path that zigged between scratch marks and skirted every patch of churned dirt. She moved slow, one step at a time, testing the ground for traps. Even the air was different, wetter, sour sweet, thick with the hum of unseen wings. Somewhere ahead something clicked in a rhythm too fast to be a clock. Cinder kept low, every muscle tight. Behind Blaze and Silas followed, a study in opposites, one solid and deliberate, the other a jittery mess, barely containing himself. They hit the first bark wall after ten minutes. Up close the marks were even more precise, a series of chevrons overlaid with dots and dashes. Thisle ran her hand over a groove, reading the message with her fingertips. Trespass and die, she translated, voice flat. Cinder rolled his eyes. Subtle. But the warning wasn't what bothered him. It was the silence beyond, no birds, no breeze, just the constant low drone of beetle wings. The tunnel world had always been loud, a symphony of echo and movement. Here, sound was a weapon. Thisle froze. There. Cinder followed her finger. Half a dozen beetles clustered on the far side of the ridge, shells glossy as old leather, each sporting black and yellow stripes along the leg joints. The pattern looked like it had been painted on, each line identical. One beetle stepped forward. Even hunched, he was a head taller than Blaze. His carapace was mustard brown, pitted and scored with years of old fights. His mandibles were blunted at the tips, but thicker than Cinder's forearm. He moved with a limp, but each step landed like a warning shot. He didn't speak at first, just stared them down, eyes darting to count and measure every ant. Cinder felt Blaze shift behind him, squaring up like a wall. The beetle finally spoke,

Fire Ant Colony — Inside the Beetle Encampment

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voice a gravel scrape. Lost or looking for trouble? Neither, Cinder replied, not missing a beat. We're tracking food thieves. Heard they cut through this sector. The Beetle's mandibles clicked, the sound dry and final. You expect us to believe you walked out here for lost seeds? Thisle's hand tightened on her notebook. Our whole colony is starving, she said. Stores dropped by half in a week. We think the theft runs bigger than just us. The Beetle's eyes narrowed. For a moment Cinder thought he'd attack, but instead, the beetle looked past them at the sky, then back down. You talk to Captain Bram? he asked. Yeah, Cinder lied. He said to check here. Fastest way to get answers. Behind, one of the other beetles snorted. Bram's a joke. He only cares about the Queen's pet projects. The leader spun, silencing his squad with a single glare. Then he faced Cinder again. You're not wrong about the food, our stores are down too. He flexed his mandibles as if stretching old scars. Difference is we don't beg for handouts. We handle our own problems, Cinder bristled. You think we're here to beg? We're here to stop the raids before they reach the nurseries. The beetle grinned, ugly and wide. That's what I thought. Kids playing hero. He stepped forward until his shadow blotted out Thistle and most of Blaze. Name's Rook Calder. Out here I run security. Out here I say who eats and who gets eaten. Cinder stared up, refusing to step back. Cinder Marlowe, and if you want to fight, pick someone your own size. Blaze rumbled a warning, but Rook just laughed, the sound like rocks in a barrel. Silas whispered, This isn't going well, but Cinder ignored him. Rook leaned down, getting nose to nose. Suppose we let you look around. What then? We find proof, Thistle said, of who's stealing it, or at least where it's going. Rook chewed the idea. Maybe I believe you. Maybe I just want to watch

Fire Ant Scout — Harper Blackwood Found Alive

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you fail. He jerked his head at the squad behind him. Escort these investigators. They try to run, break their legs. The beetles fell in, two on each side. Their shells clacked as they closed ranks, herding the ants into a tight box. Thistle didn't resist, just scribbled a quick note in her book, and kept walking. Cinder shot a look at Blaze, who shrugged, rolling his shoulders like he'd been expecting this. They marched in silence, the beetles driving them deeper into the borderlands. Each step the scratch marks grew thicker, the patterns more aggressive. Somewhere a hollowed out log gaped with the reek of rot, and beetle larvae squirmed in shallow nests, their shells so thin you could see the guts inside. Cinder tried not to stare, but the sight stuck with him. He heard Silas swallow hard. After ten minutes they reached a clearing. Here the ground had been scraped flat, all grass and moss replaced by hard packed dirt. A single slab of stone served as a table. Three beetles stood around it, arguing in low tones. Rook pushed them forward. Found some trouble, he announced, and maybe a solution. The beetles at the table looked up. One was smaller, with deep green stripes, the other two were Rook's size, but one sported a cracked shell, and the other was missing an entire left leg. The green one spoke first, his tone all acid. Ants? What we recruiting now? Rook shrugged. They want to play detective. I figure, let them try. Maybe they see what we missed. Cinder stepped forward, ignoring the way every beetle eye snapped to him. You're missing food, so are we. No signs of digging, no predators. Only thing left is someone inside. The cracked shell beetle spat on the ground. Accuse us, and you'll never leave this clearing. I'm not accusing, Cinder said, voice even. I'm asking for help. Whatever's hitting us is hitting you too. If we don't stop it, we all starve. The table beetles looked at each other, then at Rook. There was a long pause. Then the green beetle said, He's not wrong. Larvae in Sector four haven't eaten in days. They're dying faster than we can bury them. For a moment the tension dropped. Even Rook looked uncomfortable. Thisle cleared her throat. Let us work. We'll keep out of your way. If we find anything we share it. If not, you can do whatever you want. Rook grinned. Brave for an ant. Cinder looked at Blaze. You cover me. Thisle, you do your map thing. Silas But Silas was gone. He'd vanished behind the stone, out of line of sight. Rook noticed instantly. Where's the nervous one? Blaze scanned the clearing, then pointed. There. Silas

Fire Ant Colony — The Pill Bug Evidence

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had crept to the edge of the larval pit, staring at the clutch of dying beetle grubs. He knelt, hands shaking, then reached out to touch one. Don't, snapped the green beetle. You'll infect them. But Silas ignored the warning. He ran his fingers over the shell, then lifted the grub, inspecting its underside. He called back It's not rot. They're starving, but the bellies are swollen, like they ate something bad. The missing leg beetle spat again. He knows medicine? Silas shook his head. No, but my sister died like this. Back home. He dropped the grub, wiped his hands on the dirt, and turned to the others. If this keeps up, you'll lose the whole generation. The cracked shell beetle grunted. What do you want us to do? There's no food left. Cinder answered. Let us investigate. We're not your enemies. Rook looked at the other beetles, shrugged. We give them an hour. If they're wrong, we let the guards decide. He turned to his squad. Watch them. I'm going to check the perimeter. If anything happens, you crush first, ask questions later. The patrol snapped to attention, Antenne up, ready. Cinder led the others away from the table just out of earshot. Thistle bent to the ground, examining the patterns in the dust. Blaze followed, eyes never leaving the beetles. Silas knelt beside the larval pit, hands hovering over the sickest grubs. Cinder whispered, We're not getting another chance. If we mess up, we're dead. Thisle didn't look up from the dirt. Then let's not mess up. He watched her work, tracing lines and dots, then looked at Silas, who was muttering to himself, voice a low buzz. Blaze whispered, If a fight breaks out, I'll cover you, but you'd better run. Cinder grinned, all teeth. Wouldn't have it any other way? He turned his attention to the edge of the clearing, scanning for anything out of place. Tracks, stains, anything. There, a smear of blue black barely visible against the dirt. He knelt, running a finger over it. The texture was oily, not at all like beetle or ant. He sniffed, caught the tang of old water and rot. Thisle, come here. She darted over, crouched. Pillbug, she said instantly, molted shell less than a day old. Cinder's pulse raced. So they're working the border, must be pulling food through the old tunnel roots. He glanced back at the beetle patrol. If we tell them, they'll kill

Fire Ant Scout Team — Locked In the Log Cell

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us. Or worse. Thistle shrugged. We show Rook. Maybe he listens, maybe not. If we're right, he'll want to hunt the pillbugs more than he wants to kill us. Cinder nodded. Let's do it. They returned to the table, hands empty, trying to look harmless. Rook had come back, flanked by his best guards. He stared at Cinder, then at the blue black smear on his hand. What is it? Cinder held up his palm. Found it at the edge. Pill bug molt, not local. Rook's mandibles ground together. We've fought them before, always lose half the patrol. He spat, the glob hitting the ground with a hiss. If they're the ones stealing the food, why not attack directly? Thisle answered. Maybe they're testing you, waiting until you're weak, or maybe they already got what they want and moved on. Rook's face went still. Then slowly he smiled. You're smarter than you look. He turned to his squad. Change of plans. Full alert. We hunt pillbugs at dawn. The other beetles roared approval, the sound shivering the air. Cinder relaxed, just a hair. Rook looked back, expression unreadable. You want to prove yourself, Aunt? Come with us. See if you're as brave as you talk. Cinder glanced at his team. Thisle shrugged, Silas nodded, and Blaze Blaze just cracked his knuckles, ready for anything. Deal, Cinder said. Rook laughed. Hope you like hunting. Out here you either eat or get eaten. The Beatles broke formation, prepping for the night's watch. The four ants stood together, a cluster of misfits at the edge of a war. Cinder looked at his friends, then at the horizon, where the grass grew darker and the shadows deeper. Tomorrow, everything would change. Tonight they planned and waited, and tried not to imagine what would be waiting for them in the morning. Scene two The Beetle Encampment was a monument to desperation. Cinder barely made it past the entry pit before the smell hit him, musty, old, undercut, with

Colony in Danger Ch.10 — Coming Next

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the bitter tang of dried shell. It was less a fortress and more a battered heap of scavenged bark and stone, lashed together by strips of grass and set at odd angles. Any hope of organized defense was gone. Instead the patrol ringed the camp with the hollow eyed paranoia of the half starved. He caught Blaze's sleeve as they passed a row of food bins. The bins were all open, some already toppled, others scraped so clean the bottoms shone in the sun. In one a single dried fruit kernel rattled back and forth as the wind shook it. They're worse off than we are, Blaze murmured, his eyes flicking to a squad of adolescent beetles whose shells were so thin they glowed. Thisle's face went grey. She watched as a line of larvae, each no bigger than a grain of rice, shuffled past, everyone dull, pitted and slow. At the end of the line a nurse beetle counted heads. When she reached the end, her antennae drooped, and she moved them all back to the start, as if hoping to conjure more food with pure repetition. Breaks your heart, Blaze said, but the words came out hard. Rook marched them through the camp like they were prized prisoners. Ants gathered at the edge of the main avenue, some sneering, others just hollow. A few whispered, and Cinder caught the word spy more than once. They reached a central square, at its centre, on a rough pallet made of splinters and dried moss, lay a beetle in worse shape than any other Cinder had ever seen. His whole body was wrapped in a web of old silk and bandage, only the face and two ruined antennae showing through. It was Harper Blackwood. He looked smaller than Cinder remembered. His face was slack, eyes sunk deep in shadow. One of his mandibles had broken and been taped together with a strip of leaf, the edges stained brown from old blood. Silas stopped cold. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Rook jerked a thumb at the stretcher. One of yours. We pulled him off the western perimeter just this morning. He hasn't woken yet. He's ours, Blaze said. He's a good ant. Not much left of him, Rook replied, the words more resigned than cruel. Cinder stepped forward, careful not to crowd. He heard Harper's breathing, a slow rattle punctuated by a click every third breath. Then suddenly Harper's eyes opened. They darted left and right, found Cinder and locked on. Harper tried to speak, lips cracking and let out a single word. Rolling. The eyelids fluttered shut. Thistle stepped in, checked the pulse with two fingers. He's alive. Needs water. One of the nurse beetles produced a vial, but Rook knocked it aside. Not yet, the council first. They were led to the far end of the square where three beetles sat in judgment on an upturned log. One wore a sash of dried grass. The others had nothing but the intensity of their stares. Rook stood behind Cinder, arms crossed as the council leader barked, State your business, Aunt. Cinder braced himself. We are not here to fight. Our food stores are gone, same as yours. We think someone's targeting both our colonies. The council leader's eyes narrowed. You blame us? No. We think it's pill bugs. There was a trail, and Cinder glanced at Thistle, who nodded. They left molted shells near our stores. They're organized. The three beetles exploded in argument, voices scraping over each other. Impossible. Pill bugs never organize. They're too dumb, unless someone else. Silence, the leader said, and the others went dead still. He turned back to Cinder. You claim pill bugs are behind this. What's your proof? None, just the pattern. And Harper, your guardsman, he said rolling. Maybe he saw them. Rook's laugh was a short, sharp bark. If they did, he's the only one to ever survive it. Another council beetle leaned forward, his face heavily scarred. We lost two patrols this week. Both vanished on the north line, no bodies, no trace. It's the same with your colony. Cinder nodded. We lost scouts and food. It's the same everywhere. The council leader considered this. If your theory is true, then pill bugs are working together. That means intelligence. Planning, he snorted. You expect us to believe bugs with brains smaller than a berry can outsmart beetles and ants. Maybe they had help, Thisle offered, voice quiet but sure. Or maybe everyone's been underestimating them. Doesn't matter. If we don't find out, everyone's colony will die. For a moment the square was silent. Rook's gaze raked over the group. I say we keep them as leverage. If they're right, they'll help hunt. If they're wrong, we use them as bait. The council nodded. Cinder opened his mouth to object, but Rook cut him off. You're not prisoners, you're guests. But if you try to leave, you won't make it a hundred yards. Two junior beetles stepped forward and marched the ants to a holding cell near the edge of the camp. The cell was a hollow log with bolted doors on both ends, a barred window at the top for air. Before locking them in, Rook gave a final word. At dawn, you'll help us hunt. If you try anything, you get the pit. He clicked his mandibles, the sound as final as a death sentence. Once inside the log was almost dark. Blaze did a quick circuit, testing every seam, but nothing budged. Cinder sat beside Silas, who stared at the floor, unmoving. After a long while Silas spoke. He's not going to make it. Harper. His leg shook, a steady tremor. Thistle pressed a hand on his shoulder. You did what you could. We all did. Cinder watched them both, then turned to Blaze. You believe the council? That they lost scouts too? Blaze nodded. I do, but I also think we're not leaving here unless we solve their problem first. Silas laughed, a short, bitter sound. Guess we're all the bait now. Cinder leaned back against the log, eyes fixed on the sliver of sky visible through the bars. We don't die tonight, he whispered. Tomorrow we find the truth. Outside, beetle voices rose and fell. Somewhere a larva wailed and was instantly shushed. They sat in silence, the whole world closing in on their patch of dark. Cinder closed his eyes, thinking of Harper's single word and the promise he'd made alive or nothing. He meant to keep it. Sene three. Night in the beetle camp pressed down like a lid. Cinder couldn't sleep. Not with the distant arrhythmic chorus of beetle snores or the way the air in the cell went heavy every time someone shuffled on the far side of the door. The guest quarters were no better than a box lined with splintery bark and reeking of old resin. A battered lantern hung from the ceiling, its guttering flame throwing bands of shadow that made the walls seem to crawl. Blaze sat by the door, arms crossed and head down, but Cinder knew he wasn't resting. Every few minutes Blaze's hand crept to the thickest splinter in reach, half weapon, half comfort. Silas stood at the barred window, Antennae pointed straight at the horizon, eyes fixed on the dark outside. Thisle was the only one moving with purpose. She paced the tiny room, making passes over the floor, Antennae quivering as she mapped every groove and crack. On her fifth circuit she knelt at the far wall and pressed her face to the dirt. Something's wrong, she whispered. Cinder joined her, dropping beside the spot. Up close he saw it. A loose brick caked with dust but cut differently than the rest, not quite flush with the floor. He glanced back at Blaze. Keep an ear up. Blaze nodded, never looking away from the door. Thistle pressed her nails against the mortar, slow and careful. The brick didn't budge, but the mortar around it flaked off, old and brittle. Help me, she mouthed, and Cinder wedged his own nails into the seam. Together they scraped a grain at a time. The work was silent, every tick of the lantern louder than the effort. When they'd cleared enough space, Thisle tried again. This time the brick shifted, first a wobble, then a pop. It came free with a faint, muffled click. Thisle turned it over. The bottom was smooth, but scored with a spiral, a spiral that matched the one Silas had found in the fungus bins back home. She tapped Cinder on the wrist, eyes bright. He nodded, then peered into the hole. A draught of cold, earthy air hit him. The tunnel was narrow and damp, but he could see at least a foot inside, maybe more. Blaze slid across the cell, keeping his voice low. What is it? Tunnel, Cinder replied. Looks like someone wanted an escape route. Blaze eyed the hole, then the door. If we run, they'll know. Only if they catch us, Thistle said. Silas finally tore himself from the window. Where's it go? No way to know, Cinder replied. Could be a drain, could be another cell, or the outside. Thisle knelt, laying her face against the opening. She sniffed. No water, no rot, just air. It might be clear. Blaze flexed his fingers. We do this now. Cinder hesitated. His mind flicked to Harper, battered and nearly dead on the pallet. To the council, ready to use them as bait, to the pill bugs, rolling ever closer to the next attack. He looked at his friends. We don't run, not yet. We need allies for what's coming. Thistle's antennae trembled. If we stay, we could die. If we leave, so does everyone else, Cinder replied. This isn't just our colony. It's all of them. Silas crouched by the hole, anxiety radiating from every joint. We could still check it out, map the route. If we need to run, we know how. Cinder grinned. Now you're thinking like a scout. They worked the brick back in place, smoothing the mortar with spit and dust. Thisle memorized the spot, then dusted the top with a patch of shed lichen hiding the edges. Blaze returned to his post at the door, thicker splinter now in hand. If the beetles come, we go for the tunnel. Deal, Cinder agreed. A long time passed. The lantern burned lower, the air in the cell colder with each hour. Once heavy footsteps thumped down the hall. Rooks no question. They paused at the door. The handle jiggled, then stopped. Cinder's pulse sped up, but no one spoke. When the steps faded, Cinder turned to the group. Tomorrow we show them, the spiral, the proof. Maybe we get them to join us. Or maybe we end up in the pit, Blaze muttered. Thistle laid her hand on Cinder's. It's the only chance. Silas didn't argue. He just looked at the spiral, burned into the brick, and nodded. Dawn took forever to arrive. When it did, it bled through the window in a sliver of pale grey. Someone banged on the door. Rook's voice muffled. Council wants you. Now Blaze braced himself, splinter at the ready. Thisle smoothed her hair, checked her notebook. Silas took a deep breath. Cinder went to the door, chin up. Ready? The bolts scraped open. On the threshold two beetle guards waited, flanking Rook. He looked tired, eyes ringed with black, but he moved with his usual iron certainty. He eyed the cell. Sleep well? Cinder smiled. Better than expected. Rook laughed. Good, because today's the last day any of us gets to eat unless someone gets smart. He jerked his head, and the guards hustled them out. The halls of the camp were a mess, beetles arguing, some barely able to walk, others clinging to the walls. A nurse beetle tried to herd a cluster of larvae to the feeding pit, but there was nothing there. They reached the council log, where the same three beetles sat in even worse condition than the day before. The leader's face was gaunt, antennae drooping. He waved Cinder forward. You said you had proof, the leader rasped. Now show it. Cinder glanced at Thistle, who pulled the brick from her pouch, the one they'd swapped with the spiral for just this moment. She set it on the table. This was buried under the cell. Spiral mark matches the tunnels where food vanished. Rook picked up the brick, turned it over, and stared. The leader nodded at one of his aides, who brought a chunk of moldy shell for comparison. The spiral was identical. Cinder stepped in. It's a code. Every colony that's been hit had this mark. It's how the pill bugs talk, or maybe how they brag. The council stared. At last the leader spoke. Why didn't you run if you had an escape? Cinder didn't blink. Because we need to stop the raids, we can't do that alone. The leader was silent for a time, then what's your plan? Combine our best scouts, track the pill bugs back to their source. If we get proof, we fight together, not apart. Rook leaned forward, eyes alive for the first time. You think it'll work? Cinder grinned sharp as a blade. It's better than starving. The leader stared, then gave a slow, tired nod. You have one day. After that we fight each other for the scraps. He waved them off. Rook motioned Cinder aside. You're smarter than you look, he said. And you've got guts. I like that. Cinder shrugged. I just want to win. Rook bared his teeth almost a smile. They were released to the main square. Blaze led the way, scouting exits, but the threat of the pit was gone. Thistle traced every turn, mapping escape routes and writing the new patterns in her notebook. Silas walked beside Harper's palate, checking his pulse, eyes bright with hope. When they were alone, Cinder whispered, We're not out of danger, not even close. Blaze grinned. Never stopped us before. Thistle met his gaze steady and fierce. We need a plan. Cinder looked at his friends, then at the horizon, where the grass grew wild and the tunnels promised new horrors. He smiled. The war wasn't over, but for the first time they had a chance. He meant to keep it. Cinder found the evidence. But now the Beatles are calling the shots. What would you have done when Rook gave that ultimatum? Next week Chapter ten. The hunt begins, and something is already hunting them back. Subscribe to Compass and Codex now, so you don't miss the first chapter when it drops. Thank you for listening to Compass and Codex. Never stop exploring unknown worlds.