I wake up in a bed of soft leaves. While not my broken in Keane couch, it does the trick. I’m not completely refreshed, or in any way fresh, but the wave of exhaustion has passed.

“Drink this,” Ryan orders.

He holds a wooden bowl to my lips. Despite sputtering, I manage to swallow some of the water. Hard truth time. I miss my liquid energy. The tiny construction workers in my head are relentless with their hammering. As I try for a second gulp of the offered refreshment, I gag. It’s honestly like drinking down hot sauce and hoping to quench my thirst. When he brings the bowl back to my lips a third time, I shove it away. Enough is enough. I concede to my mouth and throat becoming a desert wasteland.

I’ve spent so long worried how my actions would affect others. I’ve historically assumed the worst, even after concluding that my powers could be used for good. I’ve seen the good. I’ve seen it in what the Amazon Coterie did with their home and, more importantly, what they’ve accomplished to sustain their existence, but what I’m looking at now is wholly different. The true extent of my abilities is visible in Ryan’s still ocean-hued, now human eyes.

“You had us spastic,” Ryan scolds. “I’ve never felt so helpless.”

“Welcome to the deep end. No more water wings, either.”

My voice is suspiciously normal. I expected it to sound raspy since my throat feels like someone took a match and is lighting my vocal cords on fire each time I use them. “Did it work?”

He leans in. “I have pores now.”

Of all the striking realizations he could have, he’s led with the weirdest. “Excuse me?”

“My skin has pores.”

I lift a brow. “Really? That’s the notable difference?”

He shrugs. “I also have to excuse myself to the restroom. That wasn’t an issue before.”

Right. Bodily functions were one of those things they didn’t have to handle as Solathairs. Total can.

“And I yawned!” he adds excitedly.

It’s nearly impossible not to share his happiness. He’s like a kid in a candy store.

“Those are all lofty accomplishments. Do you feel like you’ve lost anything?” Not that there’s any way to change what we did, but regrets are something to consider before we move ahead with changing anyone else.

“I feel like I’ve lost a hundred million liters,” he admits.

I grin. “A hundred million, huh?”

Water hauling was a heavy burden for him, but he’s been given the opportunity to move ahead with the love of his life. They’re on steady waters. Or dry land. Whatever.

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“Knock, knock,” dings a familiar voice. “Temperature check?”

“Tally, I told you she needs to rest,” Ryan crows. “I can’t help her recuperate any faster. You should’ve anticipated that when you put me at the front of the line.”

“I was just coming to check on her,” she spits. “Don’t get all cranky with me because you can’t help her.”

Ryan can’t heal us anymore. We’re on our own for that.

“Sorry, this will take some getting used to.”

“You look great,” she tells Ryan quietly. “The same even.”

I scrunch up my nose. “He has pores, though.”

She examines his face. “Weird.”

“Are potential pimples a nonstarter?”

“Those are normal, right?”

“Yes, Tally. Those are normal.”

Heh, she might think they’re perfectly fine until she gets one. I’m not even tempted to go over it with her. She deserves the chance to enjoy her human surprises just like everyone else. The bathroom business Ryan mentioned will be way worse for her. Tad rueful I’ll be asleep for that discovery if the aftereffects I’m experiencing from Ryan are any gauge of subsequent inversions.

“How long did Doctor Dehydrated put you on bed rest?”

Ryan glares at her.

“He didn’t put me on bed rest,” I defend. “My body did.”

I try sitting up and don’t seem to have any problems. I feel fine, aside from the persistent fire I keep shoving back down my throat so I can talk without coughing up smoke.

“So,” she starts casually.

“Get Barry,” I blurt, “and Akantha.”

Tally jumps up and down happily before running from the room.

“How long was I out?”

“Twenty-four hours,” Ryan notes.

I cringe.

“At least you woke up,” he offers.

“At least I woke up,” I echo.

“I have something for you.”

“What?”

He turns his palm up in front of me. The physical reward for my efforts is a landing stone constructed using Ryan’s extracted Solathair energy.

“It’s glorious.”

“As beautiful as its builder,” he coos, handing it over. “Do you know what this means?”

“What does it mean?”

“It means hope,” he explains. “It’s a way back from Sheelin for you.”

“It’s not a departure stone,” I argue.

He shakes his head emphatically. “No, it’s a way back.”

“Okay, I’m following you, but even if I change Tally and Declan, that’s only three landing stones.”

“You’ll come up with something.” He smiles. “You always do.”

I weigh my options. I’m not putting that on the Amazon Coterie. They’ve already done their fair share of helping. Besides, they’re a unit. They won’t accept my help unless I can help them all, which I can’t.

“Sheyla, I need you to do something for me before you go,” he requests, sidetracking me.

“Sure,” I easily agree. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Ryan.

“I want you to come back with us when we reunite with Mel, Derry, and your father.”

My scowl is all kinds of disapproving. He’s clearly overestimating my ability to maintain control of my fire. There’s already a significant increase in its persistence, and I’ve only given a quarter of my humanity. It’ll definitely be grave once Tally and Declan are inverted.

“Not to stay,” he clarifies. “You owe some people a proper goodbye.”

Guilt Master Level Ten. Of course he’s right, but I doubt I’ll be in any condition to travel. I may not even make it to Sheelin if the flame gets any stronger.

“Mull it over,” he presses.

“I’ll mull it over.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me.” I stare blanks. “I didn’t say I’ll go.”

He sighs. “No, thank you for this, for the inversion.”

He wraps me in his arms. Even without the water element to incite calm, Ryan still has that ability. Nothing bad can happen when he’s hugging me.

I can’t just leave things as they are, regardless how little there is left of me to offer. If anyone can help me salvage the scraps of my humanity, it’s Dad. He deserves a face-to-face. Derry and Mel, too, while we’re driving in that lane.

All the walls are crumbling around me now. My walls. My wrecking ball. Question is, am I wrecking everything for nothing? Or am I tearing it all down to build it better?