“We all have these mini journeys inside our great journey. As long as we’re progressing, we’re doing the right thing, but we can’t run. That’s not progress. Forward or backward, the point is we’re moving. We’re taking calculated steps toward a goal. When we’re idle, we stagnate. You haven’t stopped since this all started. You don’t give yourself the credit you deserve. Though your journey is far from over, you’ve already come farther than any of us could’ve hoped for.”

I definitely don’t see it that way. I didn’t do anything to warrant their faith in me, but he’s right about one thing. I haven’t stopped and can’t afford to.

“Why are we having this garbage talk now, Matthew?”

“Figured if I was calling you out, I should do it privately.”

I stop walking. “Calling me out for what?”

“For helping my father to get the departure stones.”

“What about it?”

I’m not lying to anyone. Have I openly admitted my plans? Hard no on that. I need wiggle room in case they back me into a corner. Is a lie by omission still a lie? Objectively, no, so long as no one asks me anything requiring strategic omissions. Those aren’t gray. No one’s asked about the stones. One could argue the lack of awareness directly correlates to the lack of questions, but…moot. That’s totally moot.

Matthew is now a screw in my tire. “I was obviously right not to bring this up openly,” he declares. “Still, I’ll warn you secrets often come with a steep cost.”

I’ll never be in the black with Karma.

“You know what the stones are?” he pushes.

Hot news or not, discussing the people in my pockets is awkward. To be fair, they aren’t people so much as the magical remains of people. Still super awkward, especially since one of them is his father. “Who they are, yeah.”

“I wasn’t sure how much my father told you.”

“He didn’t have to tell me about this. I saw it myself.”

“I’ve never spoken to anyone who’s seen it.”

“It was kind of a big deal. Not every day your best friend looks you in the eyes, then exterminates himself, taking the Sentry Scout commander with him.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he returns sharply. “Yes, their energy solidifies if they die, but do you know what the stone essentially is?”

I sigh. “It’s their converted energy…the leftovers of everything they were.”

“An energy capsule.”

“That’s why you can see the colors when you hold it up to the light,” I theorize.

“He didn’t tell you.”

“He didn’t tell me what, Matthew?” He’s seriously frustrating me. “He didn’t have to tell me. I saw it with my own two eyes.”

“They aren’t stones, Sheyla.”

“Of course they are,” I argue, taking one out of my pocket and holding it out for him to see. Probably his dead dad. My bad.

“They aren’t stones,” he repeats. “They’re seeds.”

“What do you mean they’re seeds? Like, they can be planted, and they’ll grow?”

“Sort of, yes.” His discomfort is infectious.

“Planted how? Where? By who? Just spit it out.”

“They’re seeds that can be planted by a member of the Tribunal. The energy is coated. That’s why you thought they were stones. They’re hard like stones. Once planted, the seed remains in the host for an extended period. The exterior dissolves slowly, releasing the energy into the host, mixing with the host, and finally taking over the host.”

“Are you implying I’m being invaded by a weird alien race?”

He laughs, but I don’t think my question is funny in the slightest.

“No, not invaded. The energy is part of you. Our bodies are made up of energy at a cellular level. The energy contained in the seed is more advanced than basic human energy. It releases and joins, fuses if you will, then the two are one. The energy has no conscious thought process. It has no conscience. It’s not alive. It’s an enhancement.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“You’re the one who used the word host,” I remind him.

“I was trying to explain it in a way you’d grasp.”

“You’re saying these seeds can be replanted?” I reiterate.

“Yes.”

“Does that mean I can get Brody back?”

I’m careful not to get my hopes all wound around the answer, but it’s tough not to want that. It’s even tougher as I might have to choose between saving my mother and getting my pocket rocket back to real boy size. It isn’t a fair choice.

“You could, but it wouldn’t be Brody. Not really,” he admits.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You’re eager to use those seeds, and I get why, but I wanted you to fully understand their potential before you used them up on a one-way mission to your incendiary demise.”

“Greatest flame-induced misfortune of all time,” I correct him.

This news changes things. I had this lovely, clear path all laid out. Save Mom. Burn like I deserve. Fire Daddy snuffs out my fire. Self-sacrifice to absolve my guilt. Everything I’ve done was a step toward that, but I’m literally holding Brody’s life in my hands. Can I use him to get to Sheelin? Can I do that in good conscience?

He eyes the hands I shoved back into my pockets. “Don’t worry. I won’t betray your trust by sharing this information with your friends, but may I offer you a piece of advice?”

He’ll tell me I’m being short-sighted. My tunnel vision isn’t doing me any favors. I need to concentrate on the goal at hand. I can only fight one battle at a time. Blah, blah, blah. A bunch of platitudes I give zero cares about. Only, he doesn’t give me a hot garbage platitude.

“Tell them what you’re doing,” he recommends. “Put some faith in them like they’ve placed in you. Trust them to see what you’re doing is the right thing. Don’t disappear on them.”

“I’m not disappearing.”

“Aren’t you?” He half-smiles. “Did you show them the seeds? Did you admit you intend to go alone to try and save your mother?”

“I only just learned they’re seeds,” I dodge.

His disapproving scowl is warranted. My snark is unnecessary.

Fire Supreme offered me an alternative once. Well, he offered me an ultimatum in the guise of an alternative to strip my power once I transition. There won’t be anything left when he does, but I have to take the trade. It’s the only way I can save my mother. She’s the reason I keep going. My entire journey has been about waking her up and giving her and my father the happily ever after they deserve.

The perfect place to transition is Sheelin. My friends won’t be at risk, provided they aren’t there. Bright side bonus: no human casualties. “They can’t come with me this time.”

“No, they can’t,” he agrees. “It’s too dangerous.”

“You get it.”

“I do. That doesn’t change the fact they deserve to know your plans. You owe them the truth, no matter how you struggle telling it.”

“I know.”

“It’s the right choice.”

“I said I know.”

Sighing, I sheathe the seeds in my pocket. Despite not exploring the option of planting Brody somewhere, I need to use them to save my mother. Saving Brody was never an option.

“I’ll tell them I’m leaving after it’s over.”

“After the battle, then.”

I can’t tell them before it. I don’t want a distraction making things harder for us. We’re already in an incredibly poor position to win. Telling them will affect their focus. It’ll affect my focus, and I can’t afford that, either.

“Do we even stand a chance?” I whisper.

“We have to try.”

“We might die trying.”

“We might.”

“This is the part where you’re supposed to say something motivational,” I chastise.

“I’m not lying.” He seems offended I’d suggest it. “We’re outnumbered and outgunned even with our flame thrower.”

I’ve seen death. I’ve felt it snake around my soul and lost myself to it. Even as impactful as that was, it doesn’t come close to what we’ll have to handle when the Rebels come knocking. We’re utterly unprepared to open that door.

I clench my fists at my sides. “How many are there?”

“At least twenty soldiers.”

There are only twelve of us. How can we stand against twenty? We aren’t even sure what their abilities are, let alone how dangerous. Do I anticipate defeating them using what Brody taught me? I only trained for a few weeks. The single win I managed wasn’t even a technical win. It was a draw.

“We need to run,” I state emphatically.

“We need to stay strong,” he counters.

I don’t feel in the least bit strong.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

“What if we tried to talk to them? Maybe I can explain?”

“My sisters aren’t good at listening,” he admits.

The most horrific scream pierces my eardrums. It feels like my brain bursts inside my skull and is oozing out the cracks. It only lasts a second, but the blinding migraine remains for several minutes. I try to blink away the flashing light impairing my vision. An eagle flies ahead, landing on a branch a few feet from me.

Seán cringes. “Sorry about that.”

“That was you?”

My head is still throbbing. I put my finger to my ear. It feels wet.

“Double sorry. You’ve got a smidge of something on your finger.”

I look down. Mistake. Big, fat mistake. Now I want to pass out. There’s blood on my finger. “What did you do?”

“We got new gifts.”

“Gifts?”

When he raises his arm, the eagle lifts from the branch to land on it. Holy smokes! It’s Molly. I removed their Sentry ties on our flight. The same thing happened with Brody, only we didn’t discover it until later. Their abilities changed.

“I’m calling mine Brain Bleed,” he declares proudly.

“Apt.”

“Molly doesn’t get to do anything cool,” he announces. She claws his arm before flying off. “Point taken.”

“She’s a sky-flier,” I claim.

With the liquid response drawn from Seán’s gift via my burst eardrum, is he a water-glider like Brody?

“It’ll come in handy if we can keep you from killing us, too.”

“Sorry again.”

“Triple sorry, apparently,” I grumble.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I was just telling Matthew how we’re sorely outnumbered and likely dying soon,” I muse. “Sooner if you pull that trick again.”

“Whoa.” He holds up his hands. “Dark.”

“These are dark days,” I mutter.

“I’m guessing now isn’t the best time to tell you we have a visitor,” he hedges. “Should I just go ahead and apologize again to get it out of the way?”

“No, but you can tell me who it is.”

“It’s Connor.”

How small is this world, anyway? Easy answer. Too freaking small.