Rhae shook all over. Where was the kind and gentle Thenxi who’d given her wings and taught her to find her courage? Maybe she was only a mirage. Maybe the woman who left me to die in the storm is the real Thenxi, the one who beats a friend senseless just to take a key that doesn’t even work. She crept away from the shouting and arguing, scrubbing tears from her eyes.

Taras and Errol will live; they’ll have to work out their differences later. In the meantime, I have work to do! Rhae stepped closer to Telyim. The bleeding, unconscious Seer lay twisted in a heap on the ground. Her fingers twitched feebly, then grew still, already bone-white from the cold and blood loss.

Rhae knelt down next to Telyim and put her hands on either side of the woman’s face, cradling the Seer’s bruised head in her lap. She squeezed away tears pooling in her eyes and started to sing—a low, somber hum that solidified in the air into a barely-visible, diaphanous bubbles. The pearlescent shimmer spread out to cover the two of them in a fragile, protective space, dampening the sound of battle around them.

The silvery notes floated in the air above Telyim. Rhae lowered her pitch, moving the notes downward. She intensified her humming, willing the quicksilver motes to suffuse Telyim's body. They danced along her frame, melting into one another whenever they met. The longer Rhae sung, the more notes sparked into existence, until they encased Telyim’s body in liquid metal—a suit of armor distilled from the essence of music itself.

Rhae clapped three times and the silver constricted, disappearing into Telyim’s body.

Telyim gasped and arched her back, eyes wide as healing surged through her. She lifted up in the air, impossibly high, only her tiptoes and the back of her head touching the floor. With a final rush of power she collapsed bonelessly to the ground, huddled in a ball. Her wounds were gone. Her breathing stabilized. Soon, her eyelids fluttered open again and she sat up, staring around the room in confusion.

“Welcome back!” Rhae chirped as cheerfully as she could, trying hard to lift everyone’s mood. “We beat the storm-warriors. Soon we’ll open the portal and finish the mission. I’m glad you’re okay now, Telyim.”

Telyim blinked. Her eyes still looked glossy and unfocused. She leaned against Rhae, sighing contentedly, and closed her eyes again, like a kitten curling up to take a nap.

Rhae patted her shoulder and shifted her head so she could call to the others without yelling in Telyim’s ear. “Taras, can you help? Your healing is more advanced than mine!”

No one looked at Rhae or seemed to even hear her. The rest of the team yelled at each other, locked in their angry confrontation, flinging spiteful words back and forth like stones and arrows. She whimpered and sat down, her head between her knees. Why couldn’t everyone just be friends?

=+=

Thenxi glared as Taras continued to snarl at her. “You fool! You take his side and prevent justice for your own child.”

Errol shuffled over to them, kneeling down to join the wounded. The young man opened his mouth to say something to her, but then seemed to think better of it when Taras locked eyes with him and growled. Their eyes bored into each other—too exhausted to keep fighting, but still glaring in defiance.

Thenxi took in their ruined clothes and utter exhaustion. She laughed bitterly. What a mess we make. Who are we to defy the power of storms?

Errol swallowed once, then gestured toward Thenxi. “The boy. Her son?”

“Indeed, traitor. Look upon the face of your enemy. Was it worth it?” Taras demanded.

Errol shook his head. “He lives?”

“No thanks to you!” Taras spat.

“I’m sorry,” Errol murmured. “I thought he’d killed you. He had your shield and I couldn’t see you anywhere—I was only trying to avenge you.”

“Thenxi! Get away from that man. He tried to kill Meri!”

Aravind’s voice hooked through her heart. Thenxi whirled, staring as her husband came into the room with Meri and his brothers in tow. He rushed forward, clutching her shoulders with both hands, tears in his eyes. Tenderly, but with inexorable strength, he pulled her away from the two adversaries.

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Errol pressed his lips flat and bowed toward Thenxi and Aravind until his head touched the ground. “Forgive me, child. Meri, is it? I beg for mercy.”

Thenxi reached for Meri. She squinted, scanning him with her eyes as well as spiritual senses, and hissed sharply. His body had been torn apart, ravaged by the power of the Storm. And deep within, pulsing with a small, white light, was a fragment of Taras, bound to his soul to keep him alive.

She bared her teeth at Errol, suddenly ashamed she had doubted Taras. How could I have been so blind? I sought power, while this outsider defended my son. She fed the shame into the fires of her anger, pushing away the blame, turning the heat of her wrath toward Errol.

She lunged forward, clawing at his throat. He would die for what he had done. Her hands closed around his neck. No one could save him now. Her fingers dug in deeper. She screamed as he choked and struggled in her grasp.

A mother’s love cannot not be silenced.

=+=

Errol struggled to think. He regulated the flow of oxygen in his body, just like when he was a kid diving for pearls. He could do this. First he needed to break free, stop the damage to his throat. He needed to breathe—and soon. He beat his hands the Seer’s arms, flailing uselessly. No. Not useless. He could do this.

Thenxi’s vengeful grasp constricted. White hot heat skewered his neck. Errol kicked at the floor but couldn’t find purchase. His movements slowed as the airflow cut off to his brain. He was too weak to stop her, too exhausted from his fight with Taras. Too weak. I don’t deserve to live for what I did to that boy. This is justice . . .

“Stop!”

Telyim’s voice rang through Errol’s head. The shrill noise seemed to reverberate through his skull. His sensor picked up movement. Telyim dashed forward and tackled Thenxi, breaking her death grip on his throat. They sprawled across the floor beside him.

Gratitude flashed through him, but black spots swam across his vision as he fell back, his head smacking into the floor. Dully, as though from a great distance, he registered the pain in the back of his head. Errol sucked in a deep breath, tears in his eyes. Air had never tasted so sweet before. He sat up, gathered his feet under him, and scrambled away from the Seers like a crab fleeing from an Egret.

Telyim flung Thenxi away, knocking her into Taras. “How dare you claim justice after you attacked me?”

“I took the key and tried to end the madness! You heard what he did,” Thenxi hissed, her chin jutting toward Errol. “It’s nothing alike. Besides, you don’t even know this man.”

“Errol saved us when the Shrikes held us captive!” Telyim snapped back. “We’d be dead if not for him. Would Western have intervened on our behalf?”

Thenxi clamped her mouth shut. Errol guessed the answer readily, even though he didn’t know the women or the politics of the Bridge.

Errol looked around at his team. They stood in clumps of twos and threes, separated by fights and alliances he hadn’t noticed before. Taras had thrown in with Aravind and Thenxi—and Meri, the boy he’d tried to murder. Rhae leaned against Gruvrik’s chest, weeping inconsolably as the tough dwarf patted her shoulder and looked around helplessly. Jarkoda glanced back and forth between the other team members, a sickened expression on his scaled face, completely frozen. He and Rashana huddled by the far entrance, observing the fight between the Seers but not intervening.

Could he ever bridge the gap between them, after he’d betrayed their trust, left them to die in the storm, and almost killed Taras’s friend? The citizens of the Bridge aren’t the only ones who fight amongst themselves.

And where was Maeda? Why didn’t the Great One step in and save him? Twice attacked and not a single finger lifted to help me! She was going to leave me to die.

Telyim strode in front of him on her way to the portal to the control room, breaking into his thoughts. She lifted a finger to her neck, feeling at her missing necklace, and barked out a laugh. “Thenxi, you’re too focused on your goal to even check whether you’d taken the actual key. That’s just my bone charm. All that rage over nothing.”

Thenxi blanched. “Give it to me, sister. Let us drive away storm, then we’ll deal with the Shrikes.”

“No. Eastern will rise. For too long has Western dominated our world. Give me your key, and I’ll forgive you for trying to murder me.”

The two Seers stared at each other, locked in a battle of wills. Errol scooted as far away as he could, not eager to get caught up in more crossfire.

A plaintive, halting melody cut through the tension. Rhae struck another chord on her harp, sending shimmering, golden notes into the air. She sniffed, wiped away a tear, and walked into the middle of the room, placing herself between the argument. Her playing picked up speed and vibrancy, no longer wavering.

Errol followed her with his eyes. He reached out for one of the glowing manifestations of magic, closing his fingers over the golden speck. Warmth filled his chest. A slow smile split his face. The knot of guilt and fear in his chest loosened.

“Swear to each other that you will be sisters in truth,” Rhae whispered, still playing. She turned to each one, giving them a stern glance. They looked away from her gaze.

Errol couldn’t suppress his chuckle. The cheerful little Qeren probably couldn’t manage to truly look cross with anyone, but she was trying her best—and it seemed to be working. The two Seers shuffled over to Rhae, leaning close to whisper furiously. Several gestures and grunts later, Telyim pulled something out of a pouch at her waist and handed it to Thenxi. Together, the Seers approached the portal.

“Hold,” Maeda interjected. All eyes turned toward her, compelled by the sudden rush of power in her words. They didn’t move as she stalked into the center of the room. “You are about to face something beyond you. Open that portal by yourselves and we all die.”