We’ve been moved into a suite having separate bedrooms and a common living area. Practical. I lay in the hotel room bed. I’m not used to needing recuperation from my efforts. Typically, I spend all my time expunging my fire of limitless capacity. Spent, rather. Past tense. Then Tayte happened. Now everything’s all turned around and working in reverse. It’s probably the first time in the history of the universe that reversing the polarity isn’t magically solving the problem.

Mentally, my head might explode from everything I’m learning. I love learning, but my brain is tired. It needs to rest. There are too many thoughts running amuck in there. The tiny construction hands are hard at work, jackhammers refusing to relent.

Emotionally, I’ve run out of tears to cry. I can’t even bring a single one to the surface. Seems I’ve finally run the well dry. Not that I particularly mind. Despite not being a fan of the perpetual waterworks, I’ve been bawling more in the last few months than in my entire life combined.

Honestly, it’s like everything inside me is dying a slow death. There’s no pain. There’s only the comforting darkness reaching out, tempting me to ride away with it forever. If only it could be that easy. If my death didn’t endanger countless others, I’d happily welcome it.

Tally leans her head into the room. “Are you asleep?”

“Nope.”

She positions herself next to me on the bed. “You need to rest.”

“Talking to you isn’t helping me do that any faster.”

I predict her to reply with something along the lines of her not being boring, but she doesn’t say anything. Guess she wants me to go fishing. “Did you need something?”

“Yes and no,” she admits. “Mostly, I just didn’t want to be out there.”

“I can relate.”

We lay in silence, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m tired.”

“You don’t get tired.”

“I’m tired of this,” she clarifies.

“Me too.”

“Not just this moment,” she persists. “This life. I don’t want it anymore. I want a human life.”

“Got it.” Tally would give up her Solathair status in an instant if the opportunity presented itself. “I don’t get why, though.”

“What’s so tough to understand?”

“This life has given you everything your old one was lacking. You have beauty, family, and love. What more could you want?”

“I want to experience the natural decline of life, to be part of the transformation around me. I feel stuck. I can’t pass on any of the things I’ve learned in a mortal way.”

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I gasp. “You want a baby.”

“Not just a baby,” she counters. “Babies...grandbabies...”

“Get a puppy or something.”

“It’s more than that. I want to see the end. Do you have any idea what it means to keep looking forward? No end in sight? Life’s whole purpose is to accomplish what we need to before we meet that end. How am I expected to know when I’ve reached that target? How can I ever think in terms of temporary with this vast expanse before me?”

There it is. Grease fire. She feels guilty for what happened at the bonfire to the lickers and kickers, only I’m not sure she realizes it’s guilt. More, it’s making her evaluate life, which she didn’t have to do with eternity sitting in front of her.

“I’m tired, Sheyla,” she repeats quietly. Huh. Pretty sure that’s the first time she’s ever called me by my proper name.

“Well, you’re not allowed to take a dirt nap. I’m not interested in losing anyone else I care about.”

“What if you could revert me?”

I frown.

“You can do it for Sumairs,” she reasons. “Why not us?”

“Last I checked, Ryan’s a Solathair. He didn’t do any changing when I took the scissors to him and Mel.”

“Because you were only cutting, not mucking out the stalls,” she explains. “You saw today that I’m full of it.”

“Yes, you certainly are.”

She scowls. It’s refreshingly disapproving. “I’m full of this energy. It’s inside me. It needs to be siphoned out.”

“I’m not a pump,” I say sourly.

“No, but the energy you pulled from Gundy had the same effect on her cutting the cord did with Mel. You extracted it.”

Aside from the odds it can’t be done, there’s Barry to take into account. If it’s possible, and that’s a super strong if, what would Barry think? She’s entitled to her own life choices, but since he’s an integral part of hers, shouldn’t he get some currency in the decision? Derry yoinking the reins was the beginning of the end for our joyride. “What about Barry?”

“You can change Barry back,” she points out. “You’ve already done that several times.”

“No, I mean what if Barry doesn’t want to?”

“Barry wants to do what I want him to do,” she states authoritatively.

“You don’t get to make important life decisions by yourself anymore.”

“I’ll make the decision for me, and he can make his own decision to fall in line or not.”

Outcome notwithstanding, Barry will do whatever Tally wants. His happiness is tied to hers. It’s always been that way. It’s also why I want to slap the stupid out of him for putting up with her. Barry’s a giver, in general, which is why they fit so well. She seldom tires of taking. She had a rough start in life, yes, but she’s spent the larger portion of her existence getting everything she’s ever wanted. She’s well surpassed the pity parade threshold several times over.

The only way to get us out of this downward spiraling conversation is to appeal to her sense of vanity. “What if you went back to the way you were before?”

“You mean hideous?” She lifts a brow. “Then I’ll be hideous and alive.”

“Have you learned nothing after all we’ve endured? Not even a single hard lesson, through osmosis or something?”

“I did learn something,” she snipes. “A vital lesson. Life is precious.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. You had an epiphany about the value of life, but you want to die?”

“No, I want to live,” she insists. “I want to be part of everything I see around me instead of just watching it pass by as something I can’t truly touch.”

“I have no direct access to my energy right now. When my fire fuel tank starts to fill, Tayte slurps it up. It’s not something we could even try.”

“This is precisely the kind of experiment our mad scientist would love to be part of,” she diverts.

“If you get Barry to agree to it, I’ll do it.”

“This has nothing to do with him.”

“Then you shouldn’t have any trouble getting him to say yes,” I grouse. “I’m exhausted. Need sleep. Get gone.”

“If I punch you insanely hard in the head, you’ll go to sleep. Throat hugs if that doesn’t work.”

After she storms out, I unholster the big gun to shoot away my consciousness. “Tell me a bedtime story, Brody,” I murmur, holding the rock to my ear. It hums supportively, and I finally drift off.