Bette noticed him instantly, drawn by the purposeful speed and the way the villagers instinctively stepped aside to let him pass. His face was taut with focus, but it wasn’t fear that propelled him, it was something urgent, something that wouldn’t wait.

He reached her and Jonas, slowing to a stop raising one open hand in greeting. He spoke in Maa, low and steady, his breath coming in quick bursts:

“kuna kitu cha kukuonyesha.”

Bette caught the tone instantly, firm, urgent, leaving no room for hesitation. The warrior’s posture, the guttural cadence of the Maa language, and the way he gestured sharply toward the perimeter made the message unmistakable: there was something she needed to see, and she needed to see it now.

She nodded once. “Take me.”

Without another word, the warrior turned and jogged back toward the compound’s southern perimeter. Jonas glanced at Bette.

They followed at a fast pace, weaving past the half-standing structures and piles of soaked debris. The smoke had thinned, but the ground still steamed in places. The village’s clearing effort paused in their wake, heads turned, tools lowered as if everyone sensed that whatever had been found might shift the day all over again.

Near the fence line, several Maasai warriors stood in a tight semicircle, their tall forms rigid and alert against the growing brightness of morning. Each man bore the traditional regalia of status and battle: wide belts of cured leather, coiled brass bracelets, and layers of fine beadwork in red, white, and blue. The metal of their spears caught the early light, sharp, steady, and unwavering.

But it was the way they held those spears that caught Bette’s attention.

All of them were pointed downward.

Not in rest. Not ceremonial.

Guarding.

Bette slowed her approach, her eyes narrowing, breath catching somewhere between her lungs and her throat. The warriors weren’t moving, and whatever lay at their feet, none of them were prepared to let it rise again.

She said nothing, not yet. Just walked closer, eyes sweeping over the hard-packed earth, looking for clues.

Footsteps thudded behind her, Nyah and Elijah, quick on her heels. Both instinctively slowed as they saw the stance of the men.