Sunlight cast the shadow of the girl sitting on top of the monkey bars onto the recycled rubber flooring of the playground. The place they usually hung out at during lunch. Derek had sent him ahead to get her to move while he left to get snacks with the others. He probably knows I don't have money today. That's why it has to be me. Her silhouette seemed to stare at him as he approached, warning him off alongside the tingle in his lungs. He walked around the monkey bars and cleared his throat before he spoke to the girl for the second time since the incident by the stairs.

“Hey. Satara, right?” He poked his head around a corner of the climbing frame and held onto the metal as she turned her head towards him.

“Right.” She nodded with a mildly inquisitive up and down movement of her eyes.

“Uh – have you been here long?” His real question cowered away from the calculations clearly occurring in her head. I bet she doesn't remember me. Probably better that she doesn't.

“What do you mean here?” Her brows rose a little.

“Out here. On – playing on here.” He laughed and slapped one of the metal rungs.

“Oh. Not long.” Her gaze flitted to his hand then returned to his face. “Why?”

“Oh okay.” He had been afraid of that exact response and considered walking away while he still could. But Derek was approaching from the direction of the canteen along with Tom and all the others. “See – thing is – us guys normally hang here at lunch.”

“Which guys?” She twisted on the bars to follow his briefly diverted gaze and narrowed her eyes against the glare of the sun. “Oh, you mean those guys?”

She smiled, wicked and knowing, and Derek stopped walking suddenly as if he had seen it. He turned to say something to Tom who stared blankly at him.

“Yeah.” At least I don't have to explain how many of us there are. The metal heated his palm and he rubbed the back of his head. There's no room for her here. And I doubt she'd wanna hang out with a bunch of –

“Your 'friends', right?” She flipped a few stray hairs away from her face and angled herself unmistakably in their direction.

“Huh? Y-yeah. Them.” What the heck? So she does remember? The tingling in his lungs spread to his stomach. Why'd she say friends like that?

“Tell your friend to come here and ask me instead.” She nodded at the group.

“Which friend?”

“I don't know his name.” She pointed. “That one. The cry baby from last time.”

Cry baby?! He swallowed hard and knew who she meant without looking. “Why – why does it have to be him?”

“Because he's the one who wants me to move, isn't he?” She lowered her arm and the sunlight turned her eyes to shards of amber. A lioness zeroing in on her prey. “He should ask me himself.”

“But –” Crap, he's gonna kill me.

“Go on.” She nodded towards them without shifting her gaze. “I'll watch you.”

“Okay.” He groaned under his breath as he headed back to his friends. He paused just beyond the climbing frame and turned back to her. “Are you gonna do it? If he asks you?”

The smile on her face vanished like the illusion it had always been and she tipped her head to the right as she answered. “Of course not.”

I'm dead. Derek's definitely gonna kill me for this. Words failed to support him as he stared at the girl leaning across the width of the monkey bars, perfectly balanced on the steel despite her size, her gaze switched from his face back to his friends. Back to Derek. He laughed quietly to himself and covered his face with a hand as he continued towards them. No. She's not a lioness.

Derek punched him after he explained the situation and Tom pushed him so hard he landed on his backside. But even as they left him on the ground and headed for the outside stairs no one really used, he couldn't rid himself of the memory and sensation of her gaze on him. A flame directed first at his friends then at him like a hunter's stare. Like giant talons hovering over his choices and pressing against his thoughts just hard enough to hurt but not enough to draw blood.

Not a lioness.

A dragon.

“Jason … Jason, wake up.”

Jason groaned and rolled towards the hand shaking his shoulder, pressing his knuckles against his eyelids. “Whaaa?”

“Are you awake?” Sinastar's tranquil voice sliced the bond between him and his dreams with the precision of a surgeon. “Breakfast is ready. I'm going to wake up Satara.”

He lowered his hands and blinked in the daylight that flooded the entrance of their tent. Sinastar looked almost exactly the same as he had the night before, already wearing his jacket with his hair tied back as it always was.

“Breakfast?” The scent of something fried crept into the tent along with the weak sunshine and he sat up at once. “Yo, are those fried eggs? Did you make us fried eggs for breakfast?”

“And fried salami too.” Sinatsar smiled and patted him on the shoulder. He pointed to a large bowl of water and the toiletries he had given him last night. “Wash up before it cools down.”

“Okay.” He almost missed the hand held out to him in the middle of yawning and rubbed his eyes with his other hand, bumping fists with their new companion. “Thanks, mate.”

“You're welcome,” said Sinastar as he left him to get up and get changed.

Roughly ten minutes later, he bumped into Satara on her way to throw out a bowl of dirty water. Though her hair remained tousled by the hood of her sleeping bag, she wasn't wearing her kimono outfit any more. Instead, she had zipped up a loose black hoodie over a dark grey T-shirt and a pair of black jeans.

“Morning,” he said and laughed as she shot him the most bewildered look he had ever seen.

“Why're you talking like that?” she muttered as he let her exit the clearing first.

She walked several steps and poured the water onto the ground, rinsing the bowl with water from Sinastar's seemingly endless supply.

“Dunno. I just got awkward.” He splashed the water out of his own bowl and accepted the now half filled water bottle from her. “We didn't wake up normally yesterday so –”

He remembered stepping onto the roof of the flats and catching sight of Sinastar's hand around Satara's elbow as well as the muted challenge in his friend's usually graveyard-like gaze. As if her cousin had not only breathed life into the dragon sleeping in the cave of her mind but taken its face into his hands. A painful weightlessness filled his stomach as though he had drunk too much Coke.

“Weirdo.” Satara huffed and smiled as she tapped his arm. “Let's go. Sin said the food's getting cold.”

“Sin?” The emptiness swelled up below his lungs again and he barely managed a grin. “That's one hell of a nickname, huh?”

“Maybe. He doesn't seem to care though.” She headed back to the clearing and mumbled. “Sinastar's too long to say every time.”

“True.” Jason overtook her and dropped down by the fire next to Sinastar. “Hey. Can I call you Sin too?”

The older guy nodded, though not before he glanced at Satara who settled down opposite them both. She didn't speak until Sinastar finished serving them fried eggs and thin chicken salami slices on paper plates.

“Back at the flat, you said were tracking Saytarnia, right?” she asked before she started eating. “How?”

That's a hella random question.

“With zai mostly,” said Sinastar. “Whenever someone uses zai, traces of it stay in the area. Some people know how to clean up after themselves but there's almost always something left behind.”

“So you've been looking for places that she's used her zai? Doesn't that take a long time?”

“Yeah.” Jason chewed thoughtfully. “And what do you do when she doesn't use it?”

“It does take a long time. But Saytarnia uses zai almost constantly and I'm – quite familiar with hers,” said Sinastar.

His gaze shifted between the two of them and then down to his food.

“Really? Did she used to beat you up too?” Despite the slanted smile on her face, Satara sounded terse. As if she didn't want to share the experience with him.

That can't be right. It's not like she wants to be special to that cow.

“We used to fight when we trained together.” Sinastar nodded in his direction but his eyes stayed fixed on his food. “A bit like you and Jason.”

“So you and Saytarnia were friends?” She faltered over the last word.

“We were family,” he said faintly and followed her lead when Satara didn't say anything else and continued eating.

'The heck is up with these vibes. Jason frowned as a piece of fried egg slipped off his fork. It's like I'm third-wheeling two different conversations here.

“That sucks, mate,” he said before popping the egg and salami into his mouth. “I couldn't imagine hunting down Tara. That'd be scary and –”

He had said the wrong thing. Sinastar's eyes darted to Satara and she turned to look directly at Jason as if he had revealed a secret she hadn't been privy to.

“Hunting?” She turned to Sinastar, who swallowed his food quickly. “Is that what you're doing? Hunting Saytarnia down?”

“I had to keep track of her to find you,” he replied, holding her stare. “Getting you back is why I came here.”

“Then why –?” Her eyes shifted to him and Jason held up his hands.

“Wait. I could be wrong,” he floundered. Trying to apologise to both of them at once without actually saying sorry was harder than he expected. “I just thought – since she ki – did all that to you and your families, even if one of them wasn't really –”

“I'm not looking for Saytarnia but I do expect her to follow us.” Sinastar cleared his throat and successfully drew Satara's attention away from him. “That's why we left town. To keep her away from your family. From both of your families.”

Wait … She might do something to mine too? Despite the morning chill, Jason suddenly squirmed as if he were boiling from the inside out. But how would she know who I am –? No, wait. She knew how to find Satara. She must have been watching us like Sin was. What if she followed me home?

“Is that why you're training us? With zai?” Satara lowered her fork, eggs and salami still speared on its end. “So we can fight her once she finds us?”

“I'd like you to be able to defend yourself. It would be better to avoid another situation like the one yesterday.” Sinastar waited until she grunted softly in agreement and started eating again before doing the same.

But Satara stared down at her plate with a shallow crease between her eyebrows and tapped the prongs of her fork against the reinforced paper. He had seen that pattern before. A pen drilling into her notebook before she lifted a hand in class. Her finger thudding against a basketball before she approached the PE teacher she had been staring at for several minutes. He let the first realisation distract him from the second which threatened to swamp his nostrils like salt water.

She's got a question but she doesn't want to ask him. Why though? He blinked at his plate. He had eaten so much of his breakfast but wasn't sure he could finish it. Is she trying not to be rude? Or is it something else?

“What time are we leaving?” He reached for his phone then remembered he didn't have it any more.

Not since Sinastar had texted him and told him to leave it behind at home when he delivered the letters to the Langs and his own parents. Who might not have been as safe as he wanted them to be. Damn it …

“We'll stay here for another day or so,” said Sinastar as he and Satara cleared their plates at the same time. He looked at her and clearly anticipated her question before she spoke it.

“Why?”

“We won't get the chance to work with your zai as much once we get to the next town.” He gestured at the clearing around them and then folded his paper plate around his plastic fork, pushing both into a plastic bag beside him. He held a hand out to Satara and she passed her plate to him along with her thanks. “It would be better to have it completely under control before you practise using it in buildings, close to other people.”

Probably so we don't blow anyone else up. He glanced at Satara, who avoided his eyes and pressed her curling mouth shut, and knew she thought the same thing.

“What if it takes longer than a day?” he asked.

“I doubt it will. You both learn very fast.” Once he'd finished bagging the dirty plates and cutlery, Sinastar passed around some hand wipes.

Is everyone in his country that chill about saying nice things to other people? The lack of expression on Saytarnia's face came to mind, followed by the Satara's habit of turning away when she admitted something that wasn't strictly mean or impassive. Maybe it's just him.

“We'll focus on zai shaping this morning.” Sinastar stood up. “Then, depending on how it goes, we can work on simple shielding in the afternoon.”

Satara stood up too and tossed her wipe into the bag of rubbish. She cast a pensive look at Sinastar again and grimaced as if her question tasted sour.

“When do we start?”

<><><><><>

Wait for me, Sino. I will come back for you.

The note rested in the pocket of Satara's black hoodie like a stone. Its implications pressed ruthlessly into her thigh as she tried to summon her zai. She should have given it back straight away as soon as she found it attached to her bag. But the promise, written in a distinctly brown red ink, was too familiar.

“There is something I must do … but I will come back for you.”

It must have been Saytarnia who gave him that note. Unless someone else left him? But then why would he come for me instead of going after that person? Maybe because they did something horrible? Her palms warmed up faster than they had yesterday and the heat trailed up her arms as though each of her blood vessels had ignited consecutively. When did she give it to him? Before or after she killed the clan? If it was before, is he just keeping it for sentimental reasons? Or does he still believe she's going to come back to him? Either way, one thing's obvious. He doesn't hate her. Not as much as I do.

“What?” she grunted.

“Huh? What?” Jason looked hastily at the swirling White Air between his palms as if she hadn't just caught him staring at her.

“What are you – Is something wrong?” The space between her own hands was disappointingly vacant of Black Fire and White Lightning. “You look like you want to say something.”

Jason looked over at the motorbike where Sinastar was busy going through the contents of his hiking bag and repacking it. He lowered his voice. “I was gonna say the same thing about you.”

“What?” She schooled her features into a more neutral expression.

Was it that obvious? As much as I want to, I can't ask Sin outright if Saytarnia's his enemy. They lived in the same place. They're cousins. Of course they're going to have history and it's none of my business what kind of relationship they had before … unless it affects my future.

“You keep looking at Sin like you wanna ask him something.” His zai shrunk, undernourished by his lack of attention.

“I've asked him lots of stuff already.” He doesn't need to know. He already suspects Sin might be working with Saytarnia. Or does he?

She remembered the joy on his face when Sinastar handed him their breakfast. The light in his smile after they jumped off the building with nothing but her cousin's assurance that they would be fine. The mark of Blue Fire he allowed the older guy to place in his skin to keep them safe.

“Then what else do you wanna know? 'Coz you keep looking at him like he hasn't given you the answer you want.” His gaze lowered to his zai. “Or is it something else?”

“Do you trust him?” She pretended to look at Sinastar's back, bent over the possessions balanced along his motorbike.

“Do you –” Jason chuckled guilty as she scowled. “A little bit. He looks kinda like you and he seems to have a pretty solid story. We know the whole zai thing's definitely real and it's not some kinda party trick now that we can do it too.”

“You don't think he's working with Saytarnia any more?” So it's not just me? Jayce wants to believe he's telling the truth too. Or is Sin just that good at making people trust him?

“I think we're screwed if he is.” Jason laughed again but his cheeks suddenly seemed a little bloodless. “You said he wouldn't need to bring us out here to kill us. So why else would he tell us to leave our families unless he wants to help us?”

“Hey, Jayce, you don't think –” She suddenly remembered it had been Sinastar's idea to draw Saytarnia's attention away from the Langs. And, as a result, the Vulpaios too.

“I don't think he'd need to get us out of the way, even if Saytarnia did decide we don't need our families any more.” His White Air twisted suddenly as if trying to escape him and he focused on it again. “It's not like either of us could stop her, right? Not like this.”

I didn't realise he's been thinking about all that. He knows his family might be in danger just because he knows me but he's still staying? Satara's hands were a little cooler than they had been seconds ago. She cleared her throat and dropped her gaze back down to them. Is that how Sin treated Saytarnia? Does he still want to stay with her even though it's already cost him his family?

“True. Which is why we have to learn more. About zai. And about Saytarnia.” She curled her steadily warming fingers. “And Sin too.”

Jason grunted and didn't say anything else. Satara half closed her eyes and willed the power beneath her skin out through her pores. How did I make it happen last ti- Oh, wait. I remember …

“Tarya!” Satara shouted as loud as she could and dragged the gate open, stepping out. “Stop!”

The snarl beneath the conversation, amplified by each passing second, vanished as soon as Saytarnia fell silent. Her shoulders rolled inwards as though Satara's voice had punched her unguarded stomach. The malignant blue drained away from her irises like a reflection of the fight leaving her body and her zai fizzled out of existence all around her. Abandoning her as she dropped to her knees, took a deep breath, and then bowed her head.

“I've spoken thoughtlessly,” she murmured, her tone steadier than the fists pressed into her thighs. “I didn't mean to offend the Lightlings or speak ill of the Tribe. Forgive me.”

Behind her sister's semi-prostrated figure, the other children looked at each other with bewildered yet faintly triumphant smiles. Satara's mother's eyes narrowed, possibly to contain the disappointment and disgust that radiated from them, and the Lightling beside her looked down at Saytarnia. His pale brows nearly touched the white band around his forehead.

Their father raised a hand in his daughter's direction but he made no move to approach her. Not before his wife or the Lightling made their wishes known. The sorrow on his face matched the desperation on the face of their cousin who halted in the middle of being restrained by his parents. They wrapped a hand around each of his elbows and seemed to have no intention of letting him go.

“Perhaps we've all taken this a bit too far,” said their mother, scanning Saytarnia's humbled body as if she hoped to catch sight of gratitude or a reaction of any kind. She closed her eyes as though doubly disappointed as her daughter's gaze remained fixed on the ground and as impassive as the rest of her features. “The blame can't be placed on one person's shoulders alone.”

She turned to the Lightling and tucked the last two fingers of her hand into her palm before pressing it to her chest.

“My daughter has trained hard to walk the noble paths the Lightlings have paved for us. She's come a long way and may be burdened by a fatigue we don't yet understand.” She inclined her head and looked at the people surrounding them before finally turning back to Saytarnia. Though they seemed to be directed at the white haired old man beside her, the menacing edge of her tone pressed blade-like against Satara's throat despite the distance. “She'll just have to learn how to adjust the weight of that exhaustion and tread more carefully from now on.”

She led them past her eldest daughter and Satara stepped back, pushing the gate open to rid herself of the alarming heat now leaking from the centre of her chest. Her mother swept by into their courtyard without looking her, as did the Lightling who shook his head and stroked his wispy white beard. Their father walked over to Saytarnia and held a hand out to her, looking at the children behind her.

“Go,” he told them coldly. “It's time for you all to go home now.”

They backed away and bowed as they left. Some hid open grins behind their hands. Satara tasted her sister's blood on her teeth. It coated her hands in a thick layer she would never be able to wash off and an all consuming hatred crashed down over her head with the ferocity of a towering waterfall.

Hatred of the children who provoked her sister. Hatred towards her mother who humiliated her in front of them. Hatred for her father, the Lightling, and everyone who stood by and watched it happen without doing anything to help. And, most of all, self-hatred for getting involved and stealing the power from her sister's limbs with a couple of words.

She looked sideways and there were her feelings, like red liquid spattered across their cousin's young face. Like poisoned water glittering in his brown eyes as he clenched his hands, restricted at his sides, and in that moment she knew.

She wasn't the only one thinking unspeakably horrific thoughts.

“Um … Tara? You might not wanna zone out right now.” Jason's worried voice poked her in the ribs like an infuriating finger. “Want me to call Sin?”

“It's fine,” she muttered, even as the rapidly swelling flame between her palms stole her breath. She steadied her mind, inhaling and exhaling carefully, and pictured her zai stopping mid-growth. Imagined it shrinking. He said it's my power. I can control it by myself.

For a moment, the Black Fire resisted her silent commands and crawled up towards her body. She focused on her breathing and counted each flash of White Lightning in its midst. After several taut seconds her zai stilled then retreated like a wolf stared into submission.

“Look at you.” Jason whistled and smiled as she mustered the courage to look away from the crackling energy. “Totally not blowing us up.”

“Good to know the potential's there though.” She smiled back and straightened up as Sinastar turned to look at them.

He nodded as he caught sight of her zai and then made eye contact with her. In the early morning light, the golden tone of his skin seemed paler whereas his clothes and hair looked like they had turned a deeper shade of black. It was as though too much water had been mixed into the colour palette of his complexion and the rest of him had been left out under the sun for too long, burning instead of being bleached by its rays. He looks like a vampire.

“What? Should we be worried, Tara?” Jason lifted his eyebrows at her. “Why d'you wanna blow us up?”

“I don't. But it means I'm not limited to hurting us.” She lifted her hands and parted them in the air. Her zai stretched out between them like a living curtain. “If I have to, I could blow up something or someone else. I just need to learn how.”

“Who do you want to –? Oh. Right.” He grimaced at the question he almost asked and looked at Sinastar who finished packing his stuff away. “Reckon he'll teach us?”

“Probably not. Not any time soon.” But he can definitely do that himself. That and probably a lot worse.

Sinastar checked the pockets of his coat and trousers, then started searching the small outer pockets of his bag with an urgency that betrayed his smooth expression. She remembered the little boy who promised to inflict pain on those who had hurt his cousin through eyes awash with dangerous tears and reabsorbed her zai as she stood up. Jason's questioning eyes followed her beyond his own curtain of White Air as she joined Sinastar by the bike.

“Are you looking for this?” She pulled the note from her pocket and held it out to him before the awkwardness could capture her limbs and voice. “It fell off the bag yesterday.”

He turned and an almost invisible frown slipped off his face. He grasped the folded paper as though it were the hand of a long lost friend and his eyes lifted to scan her face. An unspoken query. Should I lie to him? We don't have to have this conversation. It'd be so much easier if I just –

“Saytarnia gave this to me.” He smiled thinly and she realised the question in his stare had actually been an answer. A shameless declaration. “The night our clan was wiped out.”

“Oh.” What the hell am I supposed to say to that? She relinquished the paper and wished she had tucked it into his pocket without him realising even if it was an impossible task.

“What's that?” asked Jason as he came up behind her. He stood so close the front of his shoulder brushed the back of hers.

“Saytarnia left me this the day she killed our clan.” Though he answered Jason's question, Sinastar's eyes hadn't left hers and she refused to avert her own. “She promised to return and asked me to wait for her. To this day, I'm not sure what she meant by that.”

“Sounds pretty simple to me though? Doesn't that mean she's gonna go back to your country?” Jason looked at her then back at Sinastar. Half a second later, he made a soft noise of dismay. “Oh crap, she's going back to your country too. Doesn't that mean we should stay here?”

“Her plans might have changed since then.” Sinastar gave up their staring match and looked at Jason. “Even if she hasn't and does plan to go back, it doesn't matter. I don't expect her to stay away forever.”

“Why? Isn't she a criminal there?” asked Jason.

“That's a good question. But more importantly –” Satara pushed her hands into the pockets of the hoodie Sinastar bought for her and narrowed her eyes. “– Why did she want you to know that?”