Rory awoke after a fitful night of sleep. Her first thought was to form a plan with Doc, but that was out of the question. He’d avoided her since he stormed off. Even left rooms as she entered. Now who was the petty one? She asked herself, knowing well enough it wasn’t just him. She held her pillow over her head and wished for an end. A new, more convenient apocalypse. When that failed to happen, she pulled on her robe and shambled for coffee. At least that would take the edge off.

Well, if Doc hadn’t been leaning against the counter, cup in hand, waiting for the brew to finish. He must not have gotten much sleep either if he’s getting himself a cup. She groaned and turned to walk the other way.

“Rory, wait,” he said. “I need to apologize. I’ve been an ass.”

She waved her hand to say it was nothing and smiled at him. It was a relief he was talking to her again. “What crawled up your butt yesterday, anyway?”

He grimaced, “Well, it was Asher.” He held up a finger before she could interject. “He was bragging to me about what a great chat you two had and all the chemistry. Then I got to remembering when you first met him. It was a mess. I shouldn’t let him get in my head like that.”

“No. You shouldn’t. Asher is fine enough, but he talks big. Did he tell you I used my power on him when he tried to kiss me?”

“He tried to kiss you?” Doc narrowed his eyes out the window.

“Way beyond the point. Doesn’t matter because I wouldn’t let him. Thanks to that episode, I found out my ability doesn’t work on him. So that’s fun.” She stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest.

He wove the fingers of his free hand through hers and held it there, giving three light squeezes.

“Don’t get all worked up,” she said into his muscular back. “I just need to get my head wrapped around not having Byron anymore and make some moves on my own.”

The coffee pot beeped just as the lights flickered and went out.

“Sven didn’t take his turn charging the generator again, did he?”

“Looks to be that way,” Rory said and filled their mugs. “Shall we?”

They made their way to the closet upstairs. Its original purpose had been to contain linen, but now held four silver orbs the size of bowling balls on plush maroon red pillows. If filled, they’d hum with energy. Uncharged, they sat mute. As they currently were.

“I hoped that would bring you up here,” Rosemary said, appearing from Rory’s room.

“You drained the batteries?” Rory asked.

“I did. I wanted to show you something.” She held out her fingers and a small arc of electricity bounced between them and the generators. The lights flickered back to life. “This should keep the balls charged longer. Uses less energy and outputs more power. Probably will allow you to hook-up a few other appliances to boot. Go on, you try it.”

“But that’s electricity.”

“Which falls under your air domain. Go on.”

Rory looked to Doc, who smiled and nudged her forward.

She took a deep breath and held her hand over the ball.

Nothing happened.

She tried to focus on the little current of energy and…

Still nothing happened.

Defeated, her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t work for me.”

Rosemary turned her by the shoulders so they were face to face. “My dear, something up here”—she pointed to Rory’s head—“is blocking something down here”—she pointed to her heart—“we need to get that sorted before any of this will work for you.”

Doc snorted behind her. “I could’ve told you that much.”

“We’ll leave it be for now. I expect you to keep practicing though.”

“Sure,” Rory said, but knew what the outcome would be. More tiny bursts of nothing.

Later, all the witches and Rufus gathered around the table. They had a crude map drawn out of Alma, along with the books Holga had stolen from the Catherine and some other maps of the area. They could make a sketch of the Blueskin territory, but only the small portion they’d gone to was complete.

“The way I see it, Alma’s gotta change.” Sven sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“What if the rite of succession is carried out properly this time?” Nadine asked.

Sven shook his head. “Nah, we do that, it’s only good till the next twat comes along.”

Holga gave her glasses a quick nudge. “Throughout history, religion and politics have brought out the worst in mankind. I think Sven is right. Having a governing body who also runs the local religion is dangerous and leads to corruption.”

“The last Catherine wasn’t bad,” Doc said.

“You’re right,” Rory said and rested her head on her palm. “But there’s still no way of knowing what the next will bring, and the one after.”

Nadine frowned and said, “So, to avoid this, instead of one governing head, a council? A leader from the witches, the Daughters, the humans of Alma, etc.?”

“That might work,” Rosemary said. Her voice lost in thought. “But it would be reliant on all parties working together.”

Rory groaned in frustration and, to be honest, boredom. “Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves? What can we do now? Doc?”

“Does anyone know what happened to the Blueskins after Byron killed Vic?”

“No.” She flinched at the name of her lost love, and Doc glanced in commiseration at her.

Rory wasn’t even sure if the her only friend in the camp, Maggie, was still alive. As a whole, the Blueskins were fairly secretive about their own politics. “Their raiding parties have gone down so we can assume something happened.”

Doc shrugged at her. “You and I could go see if Maggie is still at the same camp. Get the aid of as many Blueskins as possible.”

The prospect of seeing her again lifted Rory’s spirits. It was dangerous, but if Maggie’s husband Gus had ascended to Big Chair—what the Blueskins called their leader—they might have the full support of their people.

The Blueskins got their name from the skin tone they all shared due to the silver additives put into their drinking water. No one was sure if it was to purify it or to protect them against the vampires, but it accomplished both. However, years of inbreeding in the community and isolation left a large portion of them with serious issues. They were the apocalyptic ‘Hills Have Eyes’ type.

Though some Blues took in refugees from the camp outside of Alma to diversify their breeding pool. While Gus’ wife Maggie was one who’d gone along with the clan of her own free will, there were many tales of others who weren’t so lucky.

“Fuck it, let’s do it,” she said.

A sparkle in Doc’s eyes revealed he had more than just Blueskins in mind. Time on the open road, just the two of them, sleeping under what would be stars if the sky wasn’t full of ugly gray clouds.

“Almost out of Blueshine,” Sven added. While nearly turpentine, he used the Blueskins’ distilled liquor as a solvent for many of his concoctions. “Wouldn’t mind comin’ along if you don’t mind.”

The tension lifted from Rory’s chest, and she could’ve kissed Sven for inviting himself. “That’d be great,” she said before Doc could object. “What about Inboco? I hate to ask with everything you’ve done for us so far, Rosemary.”

“We’ve hidden away for far too long. It’s time for us to join the greater world. Asher and I will go to see who will stand with us.”

“And the Daughters?” Holga stared at the group. “What do we do about them? Will we hold them accountable for their actions?”

Doc crossed his arms. “There might be some that didn’t support Grace’s rise to power. And if we lose all of them, we’ll have to figure out another plan for Alma’s water supply.”

“Maybe we should do that no matter what,” Rory said. “Seems to me, holding the supply gives them a little too much control. Holga, you were talking about the Catherine’s dowsing rod.”

Rosemary’s back straightened. “Magical artifact? About five feet long? Crafted from a silvery metal with gold and bronze tones? That dowsing rod?”

“Correct,” Holga said and pointed to her notes. “It’s held under lock and key within Alma and used for the Catherine’s various rites including the water decontamination ritual. You’ve heard of it?”

“Yes. Technically, that staff is mine but I let another witch borrow it to cleanse the area for Alma a long while ago.”

“The witch named Gloria?” Holga asked.

“The very same. But she never returned it. Didn’t really have the heart to take it from them once I heard it became the new symbol of the Catherine.”

Holga frowned. “She never brought it back because they killed her for being a witch.”

“Did they? Well, that explains a lot. As for Alma, it seems as though they’ve come full circle. Here we are again, facing our own witch hunt.” Rosemary waved a hand, the chimes of her bracelets disrupting the melancholy of the room. “Get me that rod and I’ll refresh the waters of the lake near Alma.”

The trio, plus Rufus, departed for Blueskin territory the following morning. If everything went according to plan, it would take only three to four days round trip. At least Rufus had offered to take them so they wouldn’t have to walk. Doc started the journey in gloomy spirits, confirming Rory’s suspicions of his personal agenda, but before long the dark cloud over his head parted.

Rory nestled between the two men, Sven reclined in his normal travel manner with an arm draped over his face, and Doc with one large arm supporting her back while the other hung off the side of the cart. She considered resting her head on his chest and taking a nap, but the intimacy might send him the wrong impression.

Besides, the arm that surrounded her wasn’t there for affection. Instead, it was there because Doc was far too large to sit with his arms at his sides.

Not that she minded all that much.

By the end of the first day, they were on the edge of Highland Blueskin territory. After camping for the night, they’d reach their destination by midmorning.

Just as they’d gotten in their bedrolls, ready to turn in, footsteps and torches headed in their direction. Rory silently moved to hide behind the wagon, peeking out to see what was happening.

Maggie’s icy blue face, warmed by torchlight, came into view and Rory nearly leaped for joy. There’d been an unspoken worry deep within her that the woman hadn’t survived childbirth. Infant mortality was high in a world of unsanitary conditions. But the woman was lean and healthy. She smiled upon catching sight of first the wagon and then Doc.

Rory left her spot and ran to her, open armed. The two women gasped and gushed in greeting.

“Please don’t hit me again,” Rory said. It was mostly a joke but the last two times she’d seen her, she’d gotten slapped.

“No. I won’t do that.” Maggie blushed a gorgeous shade of violet.

“You look wonderful. Where’s the baby?”

“Asleep, with Gus. It’s late. But my scouts woke me when they saw you approach. Why are you here?”

“First, answer me this, how’d the war go?”

Maggie beamed with pleasure. “We’ve all but won thanks to you. There were some casualties, but without your warning, there would have been more. We owe you a great debt.”

Rory grew serious. “That’s partly why I’m here. I won’t lie and say I didn’t want to see you, but this is a business call first and foremost. I take it Gus is Big Chair?”

“Mostly, there’s still some resistance from a few of the Lowlanders.” Maggie frowned at her. “Why? What’s happening now?”

“How much do you know about what’s going on in Alma?”

“We’ve been a little too busy to worry about what the outsiders are doing.”

“There’s a new leader in town and she’s hunting my kind. Our sources say yours are next on the list.”

Warmth drained from Maggie’s face, enhancing the cold blue tint to her skin. “My people have been fighting for almost a year without a rest. She’ll destroy us.”

“We're planning an attack. I’ve got some people to fight with, but we need your help. I know it’s a lot to ask, but do we have the Blueskins support in this?”

Maggie drew out a long breath and glanced at the men behind her. “I’ll need to talk to Gus first. How can I contact you?”

Sven appeared by Rory’s side and pulled two potions from his pocket and handed them to the Blueskin woman. “Who knows?” He tapped a finger on the side of his nose twice and winked at her.

“I don’t understand what that means,” Maggie said, looking at the bottles in her hand and back at him. “And what do I do with these?”

He tsked. “Means this’ll do. Our camp’s hidden, but these’ll send ya there if you drink it two days from now at sundown. We’re trustin’ this’ll be our little secret, yeah?”

“Oh, it’s witch magic? I understand now. Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

“Thought I didn’t need to spell it out for ya, love."

Doc stepped forward and pushed the Brit aside. “Before we go back home, do you, or anyone in your community need medical attention?”

Thank you, Doc. Rory thought he might have interrupted Sven before he accidentally started another war. The Blueskins lurking behind Maggie hadn’t liked his tone.

Maggie drew out a long sigh of relief. “If you wouldn’t mind, we have many injured that I’m afraid won’t make it without help.”

“Take Rory and I there now. Sven, meet up with us when Rufus is decent?”

“Decent now,” he said and strolled up to meet them. “Pleasure to meet you, I’m Rufus. And you must be Maggie. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He turned to Doc and said, “But I’m gonna stay here if that’s okay. Figure I can sleep while you’re doing your thing. I’ll just take us all home whenever you’re ready.”

“I’ll leave a scout behind to stand watch.” Maggie nodded at a man behind her and he stepped forward. She broke into the simple speech of the Blueskin tongue and said, “Watch man. Keep safe.”

“Thank you,” Rory said. Grateful things were working out for once.

Maggie eyed Rufus. “How is this small man going to carry you all—especially Doc?”

Rory smirked. “He has his ways.”

They worked until the unnatural light shone in the sky—morning. A worn look edged over Doc’s face. His sightless eyes squinted into white slits, denoting an overuse of his healing ability. Thanks to him, the ranks of able-bodied Blueskin warriors swelled in number, literally overnight.

Rory settled into the cart and peered in amazement as he sat beside her and summoned a tiny pool of water in his hands. The hazy film over his eyes melted as he washed it away.

“That’s new,” she said.

He grunted and wrapped a heavy arm around her to steady himself. “Takes a lot… mmf… out of me. Barely had anything left already.”

“Why didn’t you wait then?”

“Wanted to see you before we fell asleep.” His hefty frame wavered, and he kissed the top of her head. Almost immediately, his breathing grew heavy.

“Just fuck and get on with it,” Sven said and groaned as his side of the cart bounced over a large pothole. “Fuckin’ hell ya ginger bastard. Watch the damn road.”