Among the Flames: Legend of the Liberator

CHAPTER ONE

Aia lay absolutely still on the cave floor, peering through her hood at the figures at the cave entrance. They huddled together, silhouetted against the early morning light. Watching.

She’d been lying awake nearly ten minutes before she noticed their shadows. How long had they been watching her and her partner?

Breakers? No...they were unarmored. Why had they not made a move?

She and Cole had remained undiscovered an entire week, holed up in caves or hidden in forests across Dyel while they trained and planned. The Breakers were busy rebuilding their numbers, but now their luck had run out. Without a sound, she stretched her foot and nudged Cole’s leg. He mumbled, and she nudged him again.

He grumbled like a teenaged boy. Is it so hard to wait till the sun wakes me? I only got to sleep a couple of hours ago. I was up all night again.

She kicked him again, never taking her eyes off the intruders. He rolled to face her.

When she didn't turn to him, he bent his neck back to look in the same direction and froze. Well, that’s unsettling. Who the hell are they? And what are they doing? His whisper sounded louder than a shout. Thankfully, the intruders didn’t seem to react.

I don’t know. They were like that when I noticed them. They haven’t moved. What should we do?

Cole sighed. We could attack. Or play defense, see if they attack first.

We’re already outnumbered, so we don’t want to give them the first attack, too. On the other hand, we’ve seen no proof they are hostile.

Right, he said. If they meant harm, they would have attacked in our sleep. They look...curious.

Okay, taking the politic approach. She slid slowly to her knees.

Cole followed suit.

The silhouetted people didn’t move. What could she say to make them stand down? What did they want to hear?

She started with the obvious. Who are you?

Who are you? one countered in a foreign tongue.

Foreign, yes, but a language she knew well. A language she once shared with someone dear to her. The tongue of Siras.

But for now she didn’t dare reveal her knowledge of their language. Not until it was opportune. As she'd learned as a child, there was more power in listening first, then speaking. Aia Wynnald. And Cole Balain to my right.

The silhouettes charged them. She couldn’t get to her feet fast enough. Multiple hands seized her everywhere, dragging her and Cole out of the cave and into the pale morning. A group of horses waited at the base of the mountain.

Five men, three women. Tall, elegant, and lean, but not lacking in muscle. The light dirt of the Dustlands coated their mahogany skin, but their jewelry still glinted in the young sun. Brown, almond eyes surrounded by thick eyelashes, their smooth black hair in various styles of ponytails, all long and magnificent. Leather scraps hung off their shoulders and hips, covering what was important. Just like her tutor Olyisi, their beauty was astounding.

Put them on separate horses, one of them ordered in Siran. No smile or frown lines creased his smooth, stern face. The face of someone in charge. He had a thick ponytail at the crown of his head with beads down various strands, and a piercing with a ring below his lip. He mounted a horse, his bare muscles flexing as he took up the reins.

What's the plan, Aia? Cole muttered while two Siras tied his hands.

Before she could speak, Lip-ring spoke again. Tula wants them unharmed, so don't show aggression, and don't Bend.

Bend? They were Benders? And who was Tula? So they weren't being taken back to the Emperor. But the way Lip-ring glared at her, she doubted he'd explain himself if she were to ask. Perhaps it was more prudent to listen and learn. There was no chance of escaping if they were Benders, anyway.

Cole, listen. They're all Benders.

What!

Don't show aggression. They plan to take us to Sirabel to someone named Tula. One of them bound her wrists, as they’d done to Cole.

How do you know all this? You speak Siran?

My tutor was Sira.

A few mounted their horses while others moved to hoist Cole atop one.

And you want to go with them? Talk to them, tell them to let us go. Someone grabbed him in the wrong place. Hey! The Sira man repositioned his hands.

"You think that'll work? She let one of them help her onto a horse, straddling one of their captors. Just say no thank you? We are outnumbered four to one. It's wiser to just go along and not let on that I understand them. We'll learn a lot more that way."

Cole, who was finally settled, sighed. They teach you political strategies as a child? Hostage scenarios before breakfast?

She ignored him. Sirabel! She’d always wanted to see Sirabel. Though not like this.

CHAPTER TWO

Lendor tried to smile while he busied himself behind his booth with reorganizing Sovren’s amateurish baskets and the poorly-executed scrolls she’d made to help by taking over for Dove. Ryk had fumbled through Eve’s previous occupation of looming, and his most recent efforts adorned the table. The rugs wouldn’t sell to even the most desperate of citizens, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

The city had only now, a week after the disaster, reached the point where they could begin rebuilding. Ash continued to fall from the skies, blackened buildings still loomed like frozen shadows, and debris was still being cleared away. Despite the cleaning going on around him, and the noisy reconstruction, Town Center was still, as though nervously awaiting something to happen.

Three Breakers rode past, not five minutes after another six had ridden around, questioning people. Not surprisingly, recruitment for Breakers had increased exponentially. Egotistical prats. Did they think Mighty would welcome his hunters with open arms in the afterlife? Or perhaps some were actually Benders, hiding in plain sight as Cole had. It wasn’t a half bad idea. Cole had gone undiscovered since he was a child.

Lendor called out his ridiculous product descriptions to passersby, forcing his friend from his thoughts. The group was depending on him. He had to sell their wares, buy food, ensure their survival. He'd promised Cole.

Baskets, here. Hand woven with the finest attention to detail. Strong and durable, light and decorative. Whatever your needs, my quality baskets are sure to satisfy. He held out a basket and displayed its craftsmanship to a woman whose interest was piqued. You, madam...I see you’re carrying your groceries in your arms. Would be a lot easier with a fine basket. Only five coppers for a small, ten for a large.

The woman nodded and purchased a large one. He pocked the money. Dinner for the week. He could do it. He could take care of them.

Posters of the man he admired were plastered all over every intact building in the city. It looked nothing like Cole, which wasn’t surprising. The wanted posters were always ridiculous. Still. Seeing him displayed as the villain, alongside the woman who had risked her own life to save them all, was more than disheartening. How far would the Emperor spread lies about them? All over Dyel, no doubt.

He glanced out over the tops of the buildings to the west. Where were they now? Safe, since he hadn't heard otherwise. But, despite never having ventured there himself, he knew there were other things to fear outside the kingdom walls. He’d read about them in Eve’s books. Even certain plants could kill a man. Not to mention animals that would welcome them...as a meal.

And that was all if they could avoid other like-beings out there. He’d heard rumors of bandits, loose Benders, Leeches. They must avoid all of them, plus the Breakers who were scouring outside the walls. What kingdom would give them shelter?

He shook his friends from his mind like a recurring fogginess that, if left alone, would cloud his every thought. They’d be okay. If anyone could do it, it was them. Meanwhile, he had others to worry about.

CHAPTER THREE

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Hours had passed with no break. Aia shifted on her horse, her shirt and hair clinging uncomfortably to her sweaty, dirty body, and chafing. Her rider, however, hadn’t broken a sweat. A trait of the Siras, no doubt. Despite her hope, their captors had said little on the journey, leaving their motive a mystery still.

Do these people drink water? Cole said from a couple horses back. I get they are desert people, but honestly.

He was right. If they didn't have water soon, they wouldn't make it all the way to Sirabel. She glanced around both sides of the horse before spotting a waterskin by her rider's leg. She tapped his shoulder with her bound hands. He glanced around, and she pointed to the bag and made a drinking motion.

Ralaam, I think we need to give them some water, the young man said in Siran.

Lip-ring—Ralaam—didn't bother stopping his horse or even glancing over his shoulder. Then give them water, if the weak Humans need it, Baeris. She's your responsibility during the trip.

Baeris reached down to the waterskin and stuffed the bag into her tied hands. She lifted it, slopping only a little in spite of her awkward grip, and drank, the cool water glorious on her dusty throat. Her fingers slipped, and the bag dropped onto the saddle, but Baeris caught it before it hit the ground.

Do they need to be bound like this? Tula said to invite her, not bring her as a prisoner. They did come willingly.

Ralaam's horse stopped, followed by the rest of the train. The man thudded down from his horse and strode back to them, stopping at their horse’s side, eying the young man in front of her, nearly at shoulder level.

Do you think a cornered animal will not play tame? But give it the benefit of the doubt, turn your back, and it will flee or tear your throat out. Should we give it the option to do either of those?

Aia bit her tongue, hoping she looked like someone who didn't understand what was being said.

Baeris gulped but met Ralaam's eyes. They aren't animals, so—

Ralaam seized Baeris's shirt quick as a viper and yanked him forward, nearly tipping him from his horse. The Elders want her, so they'll get her. And she'll fail to meet their expectations. If she didn't come, they'd still believe she was the savior they seek. Their flights of delusion must end. I won't risk that by playing nice.

Baeris dropped his eyes and waited until Ralaam had made his way back to his horse before hopping off his own and going back to hand the waterskin to Cole, who also nearly dropped it.

Damn Humans are the clumsiest, stubbiest things on two legs, Cole's rider muttered. The piercings along his collarbone glinted in the sun. Despite not being the leader, he was the scariest of them all.

Their hands are bound, Taenash. Give them a break, Baeris said, taking the canteen back and making his way back to Aia.

But her thoughts weren't on Taenash or his ignorance. They were on Ralaam's words. Liberator? The Elders of Sirabel believed she was...a liberator? A liberator for Benders? She waited until Baeris mounted and they were off again before relaying what she'd learned to Cole.

Liberator. Well, this should be good. At least they don't want to turn us in.

True. It appeared they were on the same team in some form. But whose expectations would she live up to? Ralaam's or the Elders’?

CHAPTER FOUR

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Fynris Ratisen's foot slipped from the lip of the flat roof, but he righted himself. Sirabel was nearly black after the sun fell, the perfect time for secret deeds. Though it made rooftops more precarious. Below a group of ten rode in, two of the horses carrying two riders. They stabled the horses and set off on foot single file.

Two figures, cloaked and shorter than the rest, stood out from the others. Children, perhaps? But cloaks? Siras didn't wear cloaks. And coming back so late? And in such a large group?

A gust whipped through the thin alleys, and the group braced themselves against its assault. He squinted just as one of the children's hoods blew off.

His blood froze.

The glow of the moon highlighted her pale skin and red hair. Not children. Not even Siras. Two Humans. And not just any Humans—the ones the Emperor was hunting. Wynnald and the Breaker, Balain, if Fynris recalled from the posters that had been up for nearly a week. Even a child would recognize the two.

They entered a house after a single knock. All ten of them? What were they doing with the two Humans? Wynnald wouldn't be foolish enough to come here willingly, would she? Yet here she was.

Spying wasn’t a typical job for a priest. But he wasn't a typical priest, and for him, knowledge was power. And he needed all the power he could get.

He climbed down from the roof like a shadow and hurried home. Lenti had always hated when he was late for supper, as most wives did. Spy nights were always inconvenient. Besides, Yalana needed to leave soon. Even nannies had their own families to tend to. That would leave his son alone. And Acen couldn’t be alone.

Fynris rounded the corner, the tonics in his satchel clinking. He ascended the red clay steps to his home, pushed open the flimsy wooden door, and sighed with relief. Acen was on the floor playing with his small wooden horse. Alive. Undiscovered.

Yalana rounded the corner carrying a wooden platter of chopped, smoked lizard. The cayenne tickled his nose.

I’m sorry I’m late, Yalana. With luck, tonight's endeavors will prove worth the trouble.

The graceful woman patted his cheek and called Acen to the table. You know this spying is no good for your nerves. Lenti wouldn’t approve of this dangerous work. How many times must I remind you?

"It's because Lenti is gone that I must."

So you say. Isn’t there a potion you might take to ease yourself?

I’ll be fine. There is no potion in Dyel that would ease my ailments. He forced the thorny feeling from his throat and slumped into a rickety chair as Acen rushed over.

The boy threw his arms around him, nestling his head against Fynris's chest. I missed you, Papa.

He squeezed his boy to him, clutching a fistful of his precious hair—silky, like his mother’s—as though he’d almost lost him. For every time he left, that was the risk he took.

Yalana served dinner and moved to put her shawl on.

Fynris, as usual, touched her arm. Won't you sit awhile? Eat with us.

She patted his arm. Eat. Your son’s secret is safe another day. Till tomorrow. She disappeared through the front door, leaving a longing emptiness behind. Something about a woman's presence in the house offered a peace he couldn't summon on his own. And now it was gone.

He turned to the third plate on the table. Lenti’s seat. A flickering flame in the back window pulled his attention.

I see you’ve lit your mother’s candle.

I’m old enough. Should I have waited? She always did it once the sun fell. To keep the happiness of the sun inside until we sleep.

He gazed at the candle. No, you did right. She would have been proud. Would you take the job as yours? You’ll be responsible to see it lit every night. Can you do that?

I can do it, Papa.

Good boy. Time to eat.

He forced the food down his throat, despite his lack of appetite. Yalana would scold him if she discovered he hadn’t eaten. And they didn’t have the means to let food go to waste. He studied Acen. Watching him eat, listening to him chatter about his day, attempting to answer all his questions. Acen's brain was always working, always absorbing.

How much longer could he keep his son a secret? What would happen when someone learned Acen was...a Bender? Despite Fynris's efforts to rise above suspicion, he was never confident. To be confident was careless. After losing Lenti, he would never be confident again. She was the positive one, the one who reassured him every night. But his wife was no longer here to whisper comforting words after all the candles were snuffed. It was up to him.

The Church didn’t know about Acen. And they never would. Not so long as he worked as a priest. Not so long as he showed his loyalty to the Church. His presence made his son invisible. And he’d do whatever it took to keep it that way.

And after tonight, he had something big to bargain with, to help him acquire more power. If eyes drifted his way, he had the information to get them to look away again.

The Bender the empire was hunting was in Sirabel. What she was doing, and who she was with, weren’t his concern. Acen was his concern.

CHAPTER FIVE

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The coppery dust swirled even at night, collecting on windowsills, in doorframes, settling on stalls, and building up against the sides of homes. Stacked buildings of clay and red stone surrounded Aia, stairs going every which way.

Sirabel. She was actually here. She’d dreamed of visiting one day, perhaps with Olyisi by her side. Instead she was a hostage.

The streets were quiet. No lagging grocers or playing children. So still compared to Tharien at night. Glassless windows glowed with candles and hummed with the quiet murmurings of families settling down. Although the shopping was long done for the day, the smells of goods overwhelmed her. Nutmeg and sandalwood beside one stall, cleansed by the lingering waft of jasmine and fresh aloe in another. Smells that Olyisi would wear. Smells from the single trading shop in Tharien that sold goods from Sirabel.

She followed behind Baeris, legs and hips aching from the long ride. Cole was somewhere behind her. Where were they taking them?

Something caught her eye, and she glanced out the side of her hood. A poster nailed to a house. A lump swelled in her throat as she turned away from the flier. It wasn’t like the ones she’d seen before; this time Cole was depicted next to her, on the same page, made to appear every bit as vicious-looking as she did.

Below the sketch was the caption: Don’t believe their lies. Benders and Traitors to the empire. The word sliced into her. Traitor? After all she’d risked to save her kingdom, her empire?

They rounded a corner and ducked inside a dark house, disappearing into the shadows one by one. She struggled to inhale more than a sip at a time of the warm, dusty air. Her lungs begged to retreat. Their captors led them through the dark home, she dependent upon Baeris to prevent her tripping. A door creaked open, a sliver of light shining through. Ralaam pushed her inside and waited to shut the door until everyone was inside.

An elderly man stood to meet them. Even in his hunched posture, he was as tall as she was. His white, crinkled beard and eyebrows clashed beautifully with his russet skin. And studying her minutely, with smile wrinkles at the corners, were the most astounding blue eyes she’d ever seen.

Blue? She’d believed all Siras had brown eyes. He didn’t look more than seventy, but Olyisi had told her Siras lived a few hundred years.

He took her hands in his wrinkled ones. Apologies, Liberator. I trust you were handled with care on your journey.

Before she could respond, Taenash shoved his way forward. Why do we need her, Elder Tula? She is no liberator. She doesn’t even speak Siran. How do you expect to communicate with her? She may know snobbish nobility, but not the tongue of our people.

She smiled sweetly at Tula. This was the opportune time she’d waited for. In perfect Siran, she responded. I'm sorry to say our travels were unpleasant, Elder. We were given one break when at least three would have been appropriate for such a journey. We were also bound, although, as you can see, we came willingly. Lastly, we weren't offered any explanation. She Bent the ties on her wrists and they shriveled and fell to the floor.

Taenash's mouth hung open, but Aia hid her delight in his stunned surprise.

Tula smiled mischievously, gumming his bottom lip. And yet you kept the ties during the ride to keep the peace. And kept your knowledge of our language a secret. Not surprising, coming from you. Though I wish neither had been necessary. He flicked his annoyance at Ralaam.

Ralaam hardened his jaw. We didn't think they'd come willingly, Tula. And how were we to know she spoke Siran?

Did you try? Tula said. And they did come willingly.

Perhaps if she'd offered her knowledge of Siran to us, we would have.

She rolled her eyes. She'd learned enough about Ralaam and his opinion of her to be sure that, even if she had told him, he'd have explained nothing. Even now he ignored her.

Regardless, Tula said. I apologize for the lack of forthcoming and diplomacy. I merely intended to seek you out, not bring you here against your will.

I understand, Elder. I hope you don’t mind if I translate so my partner can also understand. She glanced back and Cole came forward, having also Bent his ties off.

The Elder looked to one of their captors. Fetch Panora. The woman nodded and disappeared through the door. A moment later a woman with a flawless face and a tight ponytail entered, followed by the first woman. The new woman acknowledged the Elder.

Thank you, Panora. If you’d be so kind as to interpret for this gentleman. No need to use the embellishments of an old man’s ramblings.

The woman agreed, and Tula faced Aia. You may call me Tula, by the way. I’m old enough without being reminded by being addressed as Elder, though you’ll notice many refer to me as simply Elder. There are six Elders here, so Tula will lessen the confusion. His eyes smiled, his mouth hidden by his beard.

I know a great deal about you, Maia Wynnald. And your companion, Cole Balain. You have been hiding for several days. Word of your deeds has spread all over Dyel, in part because Illcina’s damage could be seen as far away as the very horizon of Dyel. And in part because the Emperor has made sure these horrid posters of you and your friend are spread throughout every kingdom. To those who are not Bender, you are a threat to their firm foundation of superiority. To Benders, you are a beacon of hope.

She waited for Panora to finish translating before reacting. Beacon of hope? I’m not sure what tales have reached you, but I’ve done nothing to aid Benders. I merely stopped Illcina from destroying Tharien. Which, I might add, didn’t go as smoothly as I planned.

Cole stepped forward before Panora had finished. Why don’t you fear us? Haven’t we done more harm than good for the name of Benders? Emperor Stephan won’t stop. I’m his son, in case that bit if information hasn’t traveled this far. He won’t risk me defacing his name. We’re hunted. That can’t be a beacon of hope for you.

The old man rubbed his beard. You’re quite accurate. Because of your actions in Tharien, another monster looms on our horizon. Which is precisely why we've sent for your aid. As a Breaker, you know there is no way to determine a Bender unless you actually see him or her Bend.

Cole waited for Panora to translate. Of course, if there was, no one would stand a chance. At least not in Tharien, where the options are limited to Cleansing or Draining. I’m unaware of how things are done elsewhere.

You’ll learn that in time. What if I were to tell you there is such a test?

Aia exchanged a look with Cole. I’d say that qualifies as a monster. How do you know of such a test? How does it work? And who is doing it?

Cole snorted. The Church, no doubt. But you've nothing to fear. It’s a bluff. If such a test existed, they’d have used it years ago.

Elder Tula smiled, calm as ever. I wished the same. Alas, the High Priest himself made a public announcement not five days ago. He returned his wise blue gaze to Aia. I knew this news wouldn’t sit well with you. That’s why you are here, Liberator. We do not have all the answers you seek yet. But what we learned was enough to make us realize we needed help. Help from someone who has stood against the Emperor himself, someone who puts the needs of others before her own, someone who doesn’t see Bender and non-Bender, but who sees people. Someone like you.

She couldn’t digest all he was saying. It was too much. She’d made things worse by stopping Illcina? So they can test a Bender...and then what?

Baeris pushed forward. Now they were off the horses, she could see he was a touch shorter than the others, with curious eyes, and a forehead already marked with worry lines in spite of his youth. Once tested, any discovered Benders are to be marked. Some foul marking, so we will never be able to hide our identity.

Marked? Aia caught Cole’s eye.

Tula gummed his lip with a nod. The details of the mark are as mysterious as the test itself. The High Priest said that all Benders will have the mark of Mighty upon them.

Panora remarkably kept up, and Cole signaled that he was on the same page. What do you expect us to do about it?

Tula’s beard lifted in optimism, as though they’d agreed. The Liberator stopped Illcina. She is powerful, but also good. Illcina’s legend is known even among Siras. She was no Liberator, despite her passion for Benders. He took up her hands. You, Lady, are. My people, though united, have little faith. Together, I'm confident we could think of a way to restore their faith.

She hated to ask. Your people?

The rebellion.

Aia was speechless. She looked to Cole for aid.

Cole cleared his throat. A rebel group of Benders? In the city? Seriously?

Tula chuckled like a proud father. Beneath it, actually. For many, many years. We are a sanctuary for Benders. Tomorrow, in the harsh light of day, you’ll see the fate awaiting exposed Benders in Sirabel. Those who wish to avoid such a life, who demand more, come here. His eyes twinkled at Aia. Though you may not know it, you are a leader. Now you have people to lead.

She is no leader. Ralaam folded his muscular arms. I claimed her, but I will not follow her. I do not fear this Human test or the Human god. Our people will find no leader in her.

Aia wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t want to defend the Church, and yet he was insulting Humans...insulting her...

The Elder pulled her attention back. Ignore him. Ralaam has been sort of father of the rebellion. They are his family. He is merely concerned.

Ralaam huffed. Do not confuse concern with doubt, Tula. I know a Human child, female at that, isn’t what our rebellion needs. She fled her kingdom. The wind carries a rumor that she is related to Illcina. Perhaps her actions were a ploy to mislead.

It wasn't an act, she said, more quietly than she would have liked. She turned to Ralaam, but he wouldn't meet her eyes. I lost Illcina that day. I chose my kingdom over her. You think it was a ploy to deceive the people? To what end?

Ralaam ignored her, speaking to Tula. She’ll bring more danger than blessings.

The Elder sighed. I do not believe her actions were deceptive. This girl may be the inspiration our people need to fight. If this untrained young woman will stop a fellow Bender rather than join her, and succeed, then we need her. Faith, Ralaam! The people love and trust you, but they are fearful, and their faith is shaken.

"Even if the rumors are true, it means she chose to save non-Benders—Tersens—before her own kind. Perhaps she is their liberator. Tersens raised her. It is clear to me where her allegiances lie." A few murmured their agreement.

Tersen. The Siran word for non-Benders. She'd have to remember as she was used to the Pyerin word, Kasah.

She wanted to round on him, to tell him exactly where her loyalties lay, to tell him exactly why she fled Tharien. The anger simmered, and kindness forced its way into her mind and her facial muscles. Ralaam was clearly upset and feeling intimidated. He was scared just like everyone else. She had to be reasonable and calm him.

I assure you Ralaam, my allegiances lie with the innocent. Illcina’s vengeance was a decade old, her personal vendetta was aimed at the Breakers for killing her sister. She envisioned change for Benders, but she didn’t know the best way to achieve it. She was blinded by personal motives. I stopped her from taking innocent lives.

Ralaam looked over her head. Humans are rarely innocent.

Patience seeped out the tips of her fingers. She had to remain in control. He was trying to bait her. I can understand why you’d feel that way. But you didn’t grow up with them. I did. And when I stopped Illcina, it wasn’t only to save Kas—Tersens. I had Benders I was looking out for. Perhaps not as big a group as you have, but a family and people who are important to me. I did what was right.

Ralaam continued to ignore her.

He would be a problem, without a doubt. Was she prepared to team up with someone who clearly hated her, who didn't want her help, and who would undermine her at every turn? And he was only one. How would an entire rebellion react to her? A Human child, as he said.

Tula wrapped a light arm around her shoulders. You needn't decide anything tonight. Come. You must rest. We will await your decision tomorrow.

#

Cole covered his smirk with his hand, watching Aia pace the small room Tula had given them. Two beds and little else. Only for the night, he told them. They’d have their real rooms tomorrow. If they agreed to stay. He listened quietly while she continued thinking out loud. She wasn’t really talking to him, he’d learned. Perhaps a habit she picked up in her training as a child to keep her emotions under control. Talking it out calmed her. She did it often enough. So he waited, letting her get it all out.

Liberator? Aia’s urgent whisper in the empty room was like a snake hiss. And did you see those men out there? Two of them wanted to kill me. That scary one with all the piercings along his neck. His eyes kept darting all over me, like bugs. And the big, stern one. Ralaam. You know he’s holding back what he really wants to say. Or maybe he wasn’t. He was harsh, wasn’t he? So much hatred for Humans, there has to be a history we don’t know about. Or maybe it’s the history of the Emperors imposing their laws on the other kingdoms. Of course he wouldn’t want to team up with Humans, let alone allow one to lead his group. I doubt if anyone has ever seen him smile! What if they plot something? How am I supposed to go against them? How can I expect them to let me help? She stopped pacing, huffed, and looked at him. Why haven’t you interrupted me by now? I need guidance. She furiously braided her fiery hair with absent eyes.

You seem like you have it well under control. They’ll come around. You agreed to lead them, after all. He dusted his hair, showering the floor with pale dirt.

She held a single finger in the air. No. No. I agreed to help. We agreed to help. What if the Elder doesn’t tell them that? What if he tells them I’m their leader? I can’t have people follow me. Look what happened last time. Everyone who followed me... Her shoulders slumped. Everyone who believed in me...ended up worse off. That's not fear or self-loathing, it's fact. Dove, Eve, my parents, even the Benders you worked so hard to save. They are all worse off after meeting me. This whole new problem is my doing!

Aia, you saved who you set out to save. Those who died, died of their own choice.

She paused as though considering his words. I suppose Dove went out intentionally. She knew I needed that push. Foolish girl...

And Eve. You didn’t drag her to that balcony. She knew what had to be done, and she did it herself. Don’t take all the credit for their deaths, or you’ll belittle the sacrifices they made. They all knew what they were getting into.

But it was all my fault they were in the predicament in the first place. That they had to make any sacrifice at all.

He sighed, getting to his feet. You not only helped Illcina reach peace in her heart, but you saved thousands of innocent lives. In the eyes of some, you have changed their view of Benders. Now you’re in a position to further that shift in perspective. Which is what you want. I know you do, or you wouldn’t have left Tharien. This is your chance.

Her nods turned into shakes. They may look like self-sacrifices to you, what I did might look like a win to you, but you weren’t the catalyst. You aren’t the one who found Illcina’s pendant, awakening her vengeance, leading to her death. You didn’t need Dove to risk her life so you’d find the courage to act. You helped me, and your life, too was thrown off its hinges. You can look at all I did and say it was for the better. But all I remember are the deaths, the suffering I caused with my foolishness. I can’t have more deaths on my shoulders, Cole. I can’t. I won’t. She paced faster.

I know what you’re going to tell them. If you were unsure, you’d have told him no immediately. You’re scared. You’ll get past it.

She snorted a sarcastic laugh, shaking her head.

He frowned. Or...you only agreed to think it over because you can’t help it. Had her training burned so deep? Would she have trouble disagreeing with people her whole life? But even if it is your nature to smile and agree, I won’t buy that excuse this time. I’d like to think I know you a little better than that. I’ve seen your passion. You wouldn’t abandon these people. It’s not in your nature.

But...what can I do? How can I give them the hope Elder Tula longs for? I...

He stood and forced her to sit on her small wooden bed. Sit. Calm down. Braid your hair. He lifted her braid and placed it in one hand. This is why we left. You know something has to change. You’ve had your eyes opened, and you know things can be better for Benders. At least that’s what I thought we left to do. Was I wrong?

She leapt to her feet, nearly bashing his nose. No. Don’t be stupid. That’s exactly why we left. She took up her pacing again, feverishly messing with her hair. But hiding behind the scenes and making change is one thing. Leading a rebellion, trying to be their savior, their...liberator...from this new threat—that’s different. How could we have predicted something like this would happen when we set out to change things?

He wasn’t sure if she wanted an answer or was thinking out loud again. Most likely she’d argue with anything he said. He couldn’t be right. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be. So he’d listen and nudge her to reach the right conclusion on her own, even if it was his. She’d only hear it if she figured it out for herself.

What would Illcina do?

She retrieved the knotted branch from her coin pouch. She had pulled it