Aside from the Sentry and Rebel threat, there’s a closer danger. My feet. Here’s the problem, Folks. Running in the rainforest isn’t exactly a carefree jaunt. It’s a straight up obstacle course, and it’s my first run through. Molly flies by me, the same destination in mind. Treehouse. I’m envious of her speed. Trying to match is a bad idea.

Fun fact: the forest floor is covered in long roots that get the tiniest bit interested in what’s happening. Let’s call them brow lifts of curiosity. You can easily guess where I’m headed now. Down. Hard. I land in a gross pool of forest floor muck, drawing a sigh of relief that my face miraculously evaded the thick of it. I mean, when considering my baby elephant grace, that landing was spectacularly catlike. Me-ow.

“Nice,” heckles a familiar voice.

I’m fast on my feet, brushing off the knees of my pants. They’re soaked. Predictable. Connor’s smiling brightly, but I don’t reciprocate. “What do you want?”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Let me explain.”

“Okay, explain how you’re still breathing,” I seethe. “That’d be a decent start.”

Why is no one doing anything? They aren’t even trying to contain him.

After a commotion from the treehouse, Molly jumps to the ground, positioning herself between Connor and me.

“Get out of my way, Molly.”

My flame doesn’t care to offer any warnings. It rushes through me like a dam’s broken, spilling out from my fingertips. The sparks warm the sludge under my feet.

“Let him talk,” she encourages me.

“There’s nothing to talk about!” I roar, my blood boiling and slapping my insides with the rise in volume. “How are you explaining taking my mother? Trying to take me? Turning your back on me? Worse, turning your back on your sister? After all she did for you! You can’t explain that away, Connor. There’s no use trying.”

Molly’s Sentry induction wasn’t standard, but they still took her the same way they took all the rest. Unwillingly. They didn’t rescue her from a sad, pitiful existence. They plucked her right out of her life without a single care for how perfectly happy she was. A solo flower in an otherwise barren meadow. Pretty only until picked.

They didn’t stop there. Not a chosen one, but still converted, they expected her to be thankful for what they offered. How could she be? She didn’t ask for it. Why should she need to value something she didn’t ask for? How could she feel privileged when she was forced from everything she wanted?

Yet, in spite of that crap sandwich she was forced to eat, Molly stayed. She stayed for her brother. She took care of him. How did he thank her? He bailed on her the second she stood for what was right. He didn’t even say goodbye, simply took my mother and ran. What a lemming loser.

“Please listen to him,” she begs. Her voice is a pitiful whisper, completely unlike her. There’s no way I can refuse. Connor? I’d refuse him all day. Her? No way. I put the lid on the boiling pot and turn down the heat.

“You have three minutes,” I negotiate. “That’s me being generous.”

“You think you’ve got it all figured out,” he begins. “You’re looking at this all wrong.”

“You’re not off to a solid start.”

“I didn’t anticipate you’d so easily distrust me,” he admits. “I get why you do, but seriously, Sheyla, you know me.”

“Obviously, I don’t know you.”

“Yes, you do,” he disagrees. “Weigh this up. Use your beautifully logical brain and tell me why I took her. Tell me why I didn’t stay with you.”

“How about you just tell me yourself instead of trying to make me puzzle it out?”

“If I just tell you, you won’t believe me. You need to come to the conclusion yourself. That’s the only way you’ll understand. Brain on. Not hands on, and never ears on. That’s always been your thing.”

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He’s right. Hard truth time. My thing super sucks. A “brain on’” technique is favored over a “hands on” approach. My hearing is just fine, thanks. Okay, my listening skills are admittedly questionable, but why did he do what he did? Why wouldn’t he have stayed? He had every opportunity. Phelan was dead. There was no reason for him to go back. The Sentry ties came from Phelan.

No, the ties didn’t come from Phelan. Phelan was just the first in command. He isn’t the leader. Earth is the leader. It wouldn’t have mattered Phelan was out of the picture. Earth would’ve put someone else in his place. The logical replacement would’ve been Connor.

Connor went back for Earth to put him in charge, which was precisely where he wanted to be. It gave him the best vantage point. He offered my mother up as a testament to his loyalty. He firmed his position in the Sentry to stay apprised of future attack attempts. He was doing it to protect us.

He stands there patiently waiting for me to suss it out. He took a big risk doing what he did and an even bigger risk coming back to face me. I could’ve acted first and questioned later, greeting him with death.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I didn’t even consider why.”

“Strategy isn’t one of your finer points,” he tuts. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

Neither Tally nor I are great at coming up with effective solutions. Hard lessons club. Proud members. Bright side: I’ve finally learned some stuff, though getting me here has taken a ton of loss.

“All good?”

“Nothing is good about this mess we’re in,” I mutter.

“But we’re good, right?”

“If you want us to be.” I genuinely feel bad for thinking the dregs of him.

“We’re all good,” he confirms.

“How’s Mom?”

“She’s okay.”

“They won’t risk hurting her to ensure they get what they want from me.”

“Yeah, that’s not entirely accurate.”

“I’ll comply to stop them hurting her?”

“Worse.” His voice is so low it gives me goosebumps.

“What could possibly be worse?”

“They’ll kill her,” he says softly, “and force you to watch.”

“Invoking my transition.”

He grimaces.

I have to rethink my entry plan to keep that from happening. I can’t play coy. Hopefully, they’ll accept my concession and not feel the need for the push. That’s a mega big hope, but I have to hold onto it.

“Since we’ve gotten the nasty business out of the way, I want to show you something.”

I shake my head. There’s nothing I want to see.

“You’ll like it,” he insists.

Why do people keep trying to surprise me? Seems I’m the only one to learn any valuable lessons lately. My response to surprises is consistently bad.

“Come on.” Grabbing my hand, he pulls me into the forest. We don’t go far, maybe a quarter mile from the treehouse.

The scent of charcoal BBQ surrounds me. His pride is deserved. “Not bad, huh?”

“This is incredible,” I whisper. “How did you do this? The chain of command thing?”

He smiles. “I just had to tell them what was really going on.”

I swallow hard. If we’re made to fight, at least we won’t be at a deficit.

Twelve men are sitting and waiting for their leader to return. Twelve bodies ready to fight. He brought help. Sentry help. We have the better odds now. Maybe we won’t have to fight the Rebels. Maybe they’ll see they’re outnumbered and give up sans throwdown.

“Your timing is impeccable,” Dreyna announces. “They are coming.”

When my stomach draws into a tight little ball, I nearly heave. Odds or not, there’s no way we’re ready to face the Rebels. Are we fighting them using pointy sticks? I don’t even see any bows and arrows lying around anywhere. No. We’ll fight them the same way they’ll fight us. With magic.

What do I do? Well, first things first. I throw up all over the ground at my feet…and also on my feet.

Ryan pats me reassuringly on the back. “It’ll be okay.”

“Here soon. Not now,” Aella declares. “Still time.”

“We need to make good use of it,” Connor notes. “Sheyla, I need you to do the snip and clip you pulled off for the defectors.”

“There’s too many. I can’t free them in time. They’d still have to explore their abilities if I did. That isn’t a quick process.”

“I’ll see how long we have.” Molly slips behind a tree and shapeshifts into an eagle.

“That’s another thing.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “Seán has a pretty nifty gift that he can’t direct. Molly can’t do anything like that. She can shapeshift into an eagle but has no other ability.”

“Watching is a useful ability,” Connor argues, “and she’s experienced in hand-to-hand combat.”

“That’s true,” Seán agrees. “We all are.”

“I help with time problem,” Akantha offers.

“How?”

“I help you do one snip. Not many,” she clarifies.

“That would help.”

“Let’s get on with it,” Tally pushes. “We’ve got some preparation ahead of us and no time to get it done.”

More bright sides: I won’t have extra time to sit and stew over my fear. We have help. Whatever sort of help that ends up being we’re still in a much better position to succeed. Those Rebels won’t know what hit them. Too bad we don’t know what’s hitting them, either.

The Sentry members stand in a single line, Connor at the far left. I haven’t even asked them their names. We’re strangers, but they’re willing to fight with us. I want to be stronger because they are. Their unwavering dedication is contagious.

Akantha stands at my side. She initiates her flow, and I feel it instantly. The flames dance around us when my fire rises up to meet hers. For once, I see something other than the havoc it wreaks. I see its grace. It waits for my command, stationed in front of each soldier. Nodding my approval, it flashes into them in sync, snipping all the golden threads simultaneously. They’re all staring at me, slack-jawed in awe as the energy trail dissipates.

I dust my hands on my pants. “What’s next?”