“Read it to me,” he demands.

I take in the map properly for the first time in my life. I’ve never seen it in such clarity. Our hut in Dead River had a sliver of mirrored glass salvaged from an Old World rover and I’ve peeked once or twice during washes over the years, but it looks different on the sheet metal. I can see the whole of it, every curve and line and dash, and none of it reversed as in a mirror. It’s even clearer than what I saw on Asher’s back that day at Alkali Lake—still and unmoving and staring back at me.

“I can’t,” I say.

The General bends forward, his nose a knuckle’s width from my cheek. “Tell me what it says.”

I shake my head, helpless. I wouldn’t know where to begin even if I wanted to. Nothing on the map makes sense. It’s just a swirl of random lines. There’s no pattern, no purpose. I recognize nothing.

“This here.” He points to an Old World symbol. A vertical line with three smaller lines branching off it. “What does it say?” I shake my head. He moves his hand farther to the right, where the same symbol is repeated.

“I don’t know.”

Another curve. A dash. A series of waves.

“I’m sorry.”

The General slams a hand on the table, his face red with rage. “The gods will only return if we are loyal, Delta. Be loyal to the cause. Tell me what it says!”

“I can’t.”

He whistles twice, and the falcon lands on my shoulder, then brings her beak dangerously close to my eye. “One more whistle, and I can leave you blind. Read me the map!”

“I don’t know how! Even if I wanted, I can’t,” I gasp. “I don’t know how to read it. No one in my pack does.”

I wait for the final whistle, brace for him to prove a point, but he snaps his fingers and the falcon returns to his shoulder.

“You were supposed to be gods touched,” he snarls. “You were supposed to know how to read.”

“And you said the gods will only return if you’re loyal to the earth. Why do you care about this map if the only way to salvation is through servitude to the stars?”

“I answer to no one but the gods, Delta. You do not get to question me.” He turns to the guard holding the scrap metal. “Put it in the library and keep it patrolled. I won’t have a repeat of last time.”

“Sir, metal can’t burn.”

“Keep it guarded!” he screams.

“Yes, sir.” The man hurries out with the map.