Dorothea’s heart nearly burst when Shark popped out from behind a tree.

“Thea!” they whisper-yelled, waving their arms and rushing to her side, all but pushing Rhys out of the way. “Glad nothing’s started yet. We tried to hurry.”

“We?” she asked, dazed and joyed.

Cerid and Ariana appeared seconds later, joining up with far less enthusiasm.

“This is insubordination,” Cerid seethed, “and I cannot believe I allowed you to convince me. Again.”

“I’m just glad you’re speaking to me,” Shark laughed.

“I am not doing this for you!” Cerid hissed. “It is for Miss Dorothea and Captain Tamlin. I do not enjoy going against Commander Nobelis, but I too disagreed with sending a meager force of two for a task of this gravity.”

Shark, still beaming, put a secure arm around Dorothea’s shoulders. “Eh, well, that’s good enough for me.”

“And, um, and what about you, Ariana?” Dorothea asked, timid.

“It’d be inconvenient if the both of you got killed here.” Her flat reply was punctuated with a lame gesture to Dorothea and Rhys. “Now, Rhys,” she continued, getting straight down to business, “I’m assuming you were planning to start the attack from the front entrance.”

He had tensed even more, Dorothea noticed, as opposed to showing signs of relief at seeing his comrades. His warning, wedged into the back of her mind, sounded again: be wary of Ariana. “More or less.”

“Then I should attack first, right?” Shark suggested. “I send Ariana and Cerid in up top the fort as a distraction while you go in the front entrance and I follow with Thea once the initial encounters are resolved. Right? Good plan, I think.”

“I say we go with it. Shark and I make a decent combination,” Ariana noted.

Shark gasped. “She does care.” This earned an eye roll, but they only snickered.

Just as Dorothea was letting herself feel almost somewhat safe, Rhys spoke up. “I appreciate the thought, all of you, but your assistance won’t be required,” he stated. “Come on, Dorothea. We’ve wasted enough time.”

“Wha…” She traded a quick stare with Shark, who was already objecting before they looked away from her.

“This is serious, so don’t be stubborn. We can’t afford to lose. Despite how I’m acting, I understand that,” they scolded Rhys.

“And I can’t afford to have outside help considering why I was sent here,” Rhys retorted with perfect calm. “I hate to say it, but this is about internal politics just as much as it is about the good of the people.”

Shark snorted. “Whatever. Your all’s shitty politics isn’t as important as getting the job done as safely as we can.”

Dorothea cut as subtle as a glance as she could manage to Ariana. If Rhys was right, if their actions were going to be reported to Iree and Rhys’ fate was dependent entirely on that… She felt foolish for doubting like this. But she’d never had to doubt anyone’s intentions before since they’d always been so clear when it came to what people wanted from her.

In this case, better safe than sorry. “Please, Shark. Don’t do anything rash,” she requested. “Or, well, anything at all. Please understand.”

Shark’s mouth hung open, and they closed it with a sharp clack of teeth. “Just so you know, I intend to have a looong discussion with you later.”

“I think we need that, yes.” Dorothea took a deep breath. “Let’s go, Rhys.” She took his arm and tugged, leading him closer to the fort with far more confidence than she felt. In just a few steps, they would leave the relative safety of the trees. Now…

A cry came from the fort’s wall, and Rhys tore from her grip as he jetted forward. Remembering only his endless warnings for her to stay close to him, Dorothea pursued. Her heart lodged itself in her throat, constricting her nervous breaths and resounding in her head. Somewhat distanced, she saw an arc of water materialize before one of the Ghurians above, and a spray of red mist followed the slashing of that arc into flesh. She felt the chill of a life lost but couldn’t process, not yet, through the anticipation of the havoc they were about to bring.

Once they passed beneath the modest shadow of the archway that curved over the front entrance, the horrid true nature of their task became clear. Too much time had passed since Sunmer had been taken; Ghurian civilians had been moved in. She wondered if Iree had predicted this or if she’d given it thought at all.

The pair walking by chatting quietly were arm-in-arm, leaning on one another. Two elderlies, perhaps a couple, perhaps siblings or friends. Dorothea had built an entire life story in the seconds it took for them to double-take, realize that the young people facing them with grim countenances weren’t one of their own, and register panic.

He killed them differently this time. As they moved to flee, the Ghurians froze. Dorothea looked to Rhys’ lifted hand with confusion. How was he immobilizing them? When his fingers closed to a fist, two corpses crumpled. Dead eyes met Dorothea’s as a neck turned at an awkward angle in its fall, and she couldn’t stifle a screech despite how she tried. Fluid flooded from eyes, noses, and mouths, tongues lolling out to drip with words and accusations unanswered.

A hand wrapped around her wrist to unfreeze her, and she jerked away on reflex. If her reaction offended him in any way, Rhys didn’t show it. “You can go,” he offered. “You don’t have to watch. Go join up with the others; you’ll be safe.”

True. Rhys had insisted she stick by him because he was her only protection, but that was no longer the case with Shark, Ariana and Cerid in the wings. “I’m fine,” she squeaked, clearing her throat to continue. She had no right to look or run away. “I won’t leave you behind.” Whoever was right, whoever was wrong right now, she would stay with him.

Rhys nodded and gestured towards the direction they would go next. The streets felt eerie and haunted from the absence of rowdy exchange. The milling Ghurians were quieter in the way they conducted themselves, wary in this foreign dwelling. They were right to be, as those Rhys descended upon hadn’t the time to defend themselves or even start to call for help before they were slashed apart or else killed in the same bloodless yet gruesome manner as the first two civilians.

Finally, the expected confrontation came. Dorothea could tell a small group that approached were soldiers due to the overall bearing, the hard glint of anticipation and anger covering fear in the eyes. Of course, it was never going to be as simple as running in and out without some serious resistance. She braced herself, preparing to run for cover or to stay close as originally ordered and follow Rhys’ lead, whichever he directed. The latter was preferable, as she would rather be in the thick of it to heal him than be too distanced to be of use.

She needn’t have worried. It was as simple as it sounded, and Iree wasn’t as insane as they might have thought to send one soldier alone. She had sent a young man with what had to be the most inherently destructive magic in their world, second only to or even rivalling Wither. The soldiers stopped midstep, choking and writhing as pure panic twisted their expressions, and they, too, died with the simple closing of a fist.

“Gods,” Dorothea breathed. They hadn’t even had a chance. If she hadn’t known Rhys, cared for him, she would doubtless have succumbed to a wild terror of him and his potential for violence, found his mere presence repulsive. Just the thought filled her with sickening guilt.

Hours would pass in the process of combing the entire fort for inhabitants. When they were less than halfway through, she noticed Rhys starting to slow down. Sweat had broken out and slithered down his temples, and his eyes seemed to be swimming.

Quickly she scanned around them, picking a building that looked untouched. The door was still ajar from when the Sacerian residents had fled, and no inhabitants were glimpsed through windows with shutters swinging open. Once she had pulled Rhys inside, she checked the upstairs and found it vacant. They would be safe there for now. After he was propped against a wall and slid down to sit, he closed his eyes.

“Just a minute,” he said, almost whispering. “I’ll be fine.”

Dorothea knelt next to him. “I can restore your energy.”

He cracked an eye open and batted away the hand she’d lifted. “Don’t waste it.”

Her life, he meant, she realized after a second of confusion. “Rhys, your power… How are you even doing that...thing?” Even after seeing it so many times, she still found it incomprehensible.

“Water,” he stated, “is everywhere. Though the amount of water vapor in the composition of the air is actually miniscule, I can still gather it and use it to attack. It’s the same with a person. I can manipulate the water that’s inside someone’s body. That’s how I stopped them from moving. The brain, heart, kidneys and lungs in an average adult are primarily composed of water, so it’s possible for me to manipulate that water to crush the organs from the inside. Skin, muscles, bones… For me, the human body is like...like a clod of dirt. The faintest pressure, and it all falls apart.”

Dorothea got another chill. “It’s…an incredible amount of power.” No wonder his allies had all been so enraged at his refusal to fight; with power like this, he was too valuable to lose.

“Right. If the Tamlins were a Ghurian line, they’d probably have been killed alongside the Fall family in the Wither contract.”

“If they were going to lose so much, then why…” She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time. Still, why had the Ghurians agreed to a contract they were going to break regardless? Why start a war after having all but one of the Fall line killed? Why not keep the entire line if it was going to come to battle either way? “Rhys, are you really alright? Why are you so drained?”

He sighed and tilted his head back, sagging further and sliding down the wall some. “I’m constantly surrounded, you know. I look at a person, at the life around me… I’m aware of every moment what I could do. The finesse and energy it takes to control the magnitude of it, the sheer amount of ammunition I have… It took years of training to hone the control it takes to pinpoint exactly what water I gather and how I manipulate it. That’s part of why my parents started me off so young. Even so, it takes a lot out of me. My stamina’s never been the best, no matter how much I train.”

“Would that be mental or physical stamina?” She had to wonder what influence his emotions had on his capabilities.

“Both. But it doesn’t really matter. I’ll just do what I have to do, the way it’s always been.” He blinked as he sat up, and she could tell that he was fighting a rush of dizziness.

“Take your time,” she urged gently, putting her hands on his shoulders to push him back into resting for a while longer.

He frowned, studying her.

“What? What is it?” She looked around, anxious. Was there an enemy? No, but she’d made sure they were alone.

“Are you not phased at all right now? I thought that, by now, you’d be…”

“A complete blubbering mess? Falling apart and sobbing into your arms?”

He looked away, embarrassed. “Pretty much.”

Dorothea managed a small laugh. “Trust me, I’ll find a private corner to cry in when we get back. But it wouldn’t help anyone right now.”

“I see.” He heaved himself to his feet despite further protests. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

“Well…” He shook himself, patting his cheeks and narrowing his eyes. “That was a nice distraction. Come on.”

Any sense of relief Dorothea might have felt was dashed. “Right.” They had looked away for a moment, but anything less than the perfect completion of their slaughter wouldn’t be tolerated. “But are you feeling okay already?”

“Okay is a strong word.”

“Please don’t be afraid to tell me if you need my help.”

To this he said nothing, and she knew then that he’d rather push himself to the most painful brink possible than have her trade a second of life in using Juncture. She also knew that, if he asked or needed, she would give up as much as it took.