Cass regained herself and let go of Mouse’s arm, and his grip on her relaxed, though his hand lingered protectively. She went down on a knee next to her son, spoke in a low voice.

“It can’t be, Wren,” Cass said. “Asher’s gone. You sent him away.”

“But sent him where, Mama?” he asked, not looking at her. She didn’t have an answer.

“I don’t understand,” Gamble said. “You mean your brother’s one of them down there?”

Wren took another step closer to the edge of the building, but Cass reached out and grabbed his shoulder. He stopped in place, just stared down at the crowd of Weir still chanting below.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s all of them.”

It was almost too much to comprehend, the very idea too much to bear. After the events in Underdown’s throne room, when Wren brought Cass back to herself and Three lay dying, Asher had been there on the floor. At least his body had been. His eyes had been open, fixed and staring, but there had been no life in him. It hadn’t been any use asking Wren what he’d done to his half-brother; he didn’t exactly know himself. But as terrible as Asher had been, and as dangerous, Wren had still never really forgiven himself for taking Asher’s life.

I just wanted him to stop, was all he would say.

Could it be that somehow, in some way, when Asher’s mind had been cast out of his body, he hadn’t truly been destroyed? Cass looked down at her hands, the slender fingers with their metal blades beneath the nails. There had been a time before that she could’ve believed it impossible. No longer. As shocking as it was for her mind to accept, she found she didn’t need to fully understand it to find herself believing.

“Spshhhh. Naaaah.”

“What’s ‘Spinner’?” Sky asked. “What does that mean?”

“It’s what Asher used to call Wren. Before,” Cass explained. “They called us different names.”

“So you’re saying your dead brother is controlling those things down there?”

Wren nodded.

“How do you know?” Gamble asked.

“I can feel him,” Wren said.

In the street below, the cluster of Weir remained pressed together. Others still wandered in and around the enclave, but no more joined the group. A number of them even seemed to be returning to the buildings from which they had come.

“He’s different,” Wren said, after a moment, “…but not.”

“What does that mean for us?” Mouse asked.

“Nothing good, I’m sure,” Gamble said. “But for now the situation hasn’t really changed, has it? I mean, if we kill all of ’em, will that be the end of it?”

“I don’t know,” Wren answered. “I don’t think so.”

There was noise back behind them, across the roof, and Cass turned to see Finn and Swoop rejoining the team. Both went immediately to Wick. Finn crouched down beside his brother. Swoop remained standing and seemed to exchange a few words with Wick, before heading over towards Gamble and the rest of them.

“How we lookin’?” Swoop asked.

“Not good,” Gamble said.

Gamble gave Swoop the rundown, as much as she could. There wasn’t really any good way to try to describe or explain what was going on with the Weir. Swoop took it all in with his usual stoicism.

“What about the rest of ’em?” Swoop asked.

“What do you mean?” Gamble said.

“Looks like about a hundred or so down there. Why aren’t they all together?” he asked.

“I have no idea.”

“Maybe he can’t control them all,” Wren said.

Finn and Able joined the group.

“Who’s on the door?” Swoop asked as they approached.

“Wick’s got it,” Finn said.

Swoop glanced at Mouse, but Mouse didn’t say anything.

“I know he’s in trouble,” Finn said, replying to the look. “He’s hurt, not dead. He’s got the door. So what are we doing?”

Everyone looked at Gamble.

“If anyone’s got ideas, now’s a good time,” Gamble said.

Swoop started off. “Blow the door. Shoot the rest. Make a run for it.”

“We’re not running,” Mouse said. “Not with Wick in the shape he’s in.”

“We can start picking them off from up here,” Sky said. “See how many we can get through.”

Gamble shook her head. “We’re not going to kill a whole town’s worth. Not before sundown.”

“I’m light on ammo anyway,” Finn said. “How about you all?”

“Same,” Swoop said.

Able waggled his hand, indicating he still had some, but not as much as he’d like.

“No chance they’re going to leave us alone, I guess,” Mouse said.

“Wouldn’t count on it,” Gamble said.

“We could go back in, start reinforcing floor by floor,” Finn said. “Start at the top, work our way down. See how far we get before they come. Try to get them choked up in the tight spots.”

“Take it to blade-work then,” Gamble said.

Finn nodded. “Haven’t had to reload one yet.”

Everyone stood silently considering. It would be hours of work, clearing and reinforcing each floor. And there was no telling when the Weir might actually launch their attack. For now they seemed to be content to stand out front, but Cass didn’t expect them to remain that way. Certainly when night came, the enclave would empty, and the full strength of the Weir would be upon them. And then they would have to fight until morning.

Images from the battle on the night they escaped Morningside flashed through her mind. They would never last.

“What about Lil?” Cass said.

Eyes turned to her.

“What about her?” Gamble replied.

“I could pim her. Maybe they could help.”

“I don’t see how,” Swoop said.

“I know they don’t look like much,” Cass answered, “but they lived in the open — in a village without walls — for years. They’re fighters.”

The team exchanged looks. Cass didn’t know what other options they thought they had. The sun was high, nearly noon already. “And they’re the only ones close enough to do anything.”

“Might not be time enough for them to get here and us to all make it back,” Finn said.

“Then we should probably ask them to get started now,” Cass said.

Can’t hurt to ask, Able signed. Maybe they know something we don’t.

Gamble gave a little nod. “Alright, do it.”

Cass pimmed Lil. She explained the situation as best she could, hoping to impress upon her how much trouble they were in — without making it sound like she was inviting them to certain death. After hearing it all, Lil told Cass she would talk to her people and see what they could come up with.

“She’s going to get back to us,” Cass told the others.

Five minutes passed. Ten. In the street below, the Weir remained pressed together, but they had thankfully given up their chant. The others had disappeared. Cass guessed they’d all returned to the shelter of the enclave. Mouse went to check on Wick again, and the rest of the team split time between watching the Weir and standing around restlessly.

Fifteen minutes. Still nothing.

“They’re not coming,” Swoop finally said. “And we’re losing on our own time here. I’m with Finn. Reinforce what we can, pull a staged retreat. Take as many of ’em as we can.”

“Roof as a final fallback,” Finn said. “Only one way up. Maybe we can choke the stairs with their dead. Make ’em change their minds.”

“If we blow the lower stairwell, we might be able to hold them there for a while.”

“How long do you think it’ll take to set up?” Gamble asked.

“Pretty much as long as we have,” Swoop said.

“Then let’s get started. Sky, keep eyes on, let us know if there’s any change. Mouse, stay close to Wick. Cass, Painter, I’m going to need you to come help.”

It was as they were crossing the roof back towards the stairwell that Lil finally pimmed Cass a simple message: “We’re coming.”

“Hold on,” Cass said to the team. “She says they’re coming. They’re on the way.”

“How long?” Gamble asked.

Cass asked Lil for an estimate, and communicated the reply. “Three hours.”

“And what’re they going to do when they get here?”

“Whatever you tell them to.”

Gamble thought for a moment, while the others stood by. “Mouse.” She waved him over, and they spoke together in lowered voices. “If we put him on a litter, can we move Wick out?”

“If we have to move him, yeah, that’s our best bet. But that’ll put us down three shooters.”

Gamble nodded. “You’ve got one?”

“Collapsible, in my pack, yeah.”

“You know when you whisper, I can tell you’re talking about me, right?” Wick called.

“We’re trying to decide whether to roll you down the stairs or just drop you over the edge,” Finn answered.

“Either one’s better than all this sitting around,” Wick said. He was trying to keep it light, but his voice already sounded thinner than usual.

“Swoop,” Gamble said, “how’s downstairs rigged?”

“Trip on the door, thirty-second delay off that on the stairs, plus another trip at the top.”

“How tough to rewire the door to a clacker?”

“Easy day… Unless they decide to come knockin’ while I’m workin’ on it.”

“Alright. Change of plans, gentlemen,” Gamble said. “We’re going to do some blockade running.”

“So, pretty much what I said the first time?” Swoop said.

“Yes, Swoop, you’re very smart, we should always listen to you, et cetera. We’ve still got to hold out three hours.”

Gamble quickly laid out the plan. Mouse, Sky, and the three principals would remain on the roof with Wick: Sky to relay information about the Weir and their movements, Mouse to keep an eye on Wick, and the others, Cass assumed, largely to stay out of the way.

Swoop, Finn, Able, and Gamble were all headed back down to the bottom floor to rewire the explosives. Or rather, the three of them would provide security while Swoop did the work. And if the Weir came while they were down there, they would try to make a withdrawal up the stairs while continually engaging.

“And if that doesn’t work…” Gamble said, looking at Cass with a flat expression. “Good luck.” She held out her jittergun to Cass.

“You keep it,” Cass said.

“Won’t do you any good if it’s on me and we get overrun.”

“Don’t get overrun then.”

Gamble extended the gun out further and bobbed it up and down, waiting for Cass to take it. Cass held her hand palm out, and then flipped it around. Her thin blades sprang from their housing under her fingernails with a snick. For a moment the two women just looked at each other. And then, with a sigh, Gamble returned the jittergun to her leg holster.

“I can come with you, you know,” Cass said.

Gamble shook her head. “Better up here. Puts four shooters top and bottom. Well… three shooters and Miss Fancy Nails up top, I guess.” She flashed a quick smile. “Back in a few.”

The four of them headed towards the stairs, but Finn stopped and jogged back. He knelt down by Wick and put his head against his brother’s, and whispered a few words. Wick gave a little nod and patted him on the cheek. Then Finn rejoined the others and they disappeared down the darkened corridor.

“What do we do?” Painter asked.

“I suppose we wait,” Cass said.

“And hope the Weir don’t get tired of just standing around,” Sky said. He gave a little nod and returned to his position at the edge of the roof. Painter went and found a place near one of the large ventilation shaft covers, where he could be in the sun, but out of the wind. He plopped his pack down to use as a pillow and stretched out on his back, with an arm over his eyes.

Wick, of course, was still sitting, propped against some of the packs, with his rifle laid across another one where he could keep it aimed at the door. Mouse grabbed two of the packs off the ground, one in each hand, and lugged them over towards the door. Cass guessed they were a good sixty pounds each, but he didn’t seem to have too much trouble with them. He swung the door shut with his foot, and then piled the packs in front of it, one on top of the other.

“Gamble, Mouse,” he said. “Door’s braced, let me know when you’re on your way back up.”

Wren had gone to join Sky by the roof’s edge. He had his hood up, and was sitting cross-legged next to him. Cass walked over and sat down beside her son.

They all sat in silence for a time, watching the Weir down below. As terrible as they were, Cass found that the fear they inspired was diminished by the broad daylight. Surely the darkness of night lent them some greater measure of terror. Even so, seeing so many gathered as one force was daunting. The thought of the battle that awaited them was not one she relished.

But at the same time, if what Wren said was true, if Asher was alive in some measure, and exerting control over those creatures, something stirred within her at the idea of doing all she could to destroy them. Asher had hounded them long enough, had caused them more than a lifetime’s worth of sorrow. Cass would do whatever it took to ensure that he would never reach Wren again.

And another thought hung like a black cloud in the back of her mind, one she didn’t even want to acknowledge. The great dreadful unknown that had haunted her since her Awakening: the fear that she might somehow revert to a mindless thrall of the Weir. Now, a new possibility arose, more nightmarish than any previously conceived.

If Asher had found his way into the Weir, was there anything preventing him from reclaiming Cass as well?

“Hey, Governor,” Sky said. “All those down there. Any chance you could wake any of them?”

Wren was still and quiet for a few moments — before he finally shook his head slowly.

“Yeah,” Sky said. “Just thought I’d ask. Makes me feel better if I know that before I have to shoot them.”

The comment lingered in the air, heavy with the imminent storm that awaited them all.

“Could you do it again?” Cass asked. “Could you send Asher away again?”

“I don’t know, Mama,” Wren said. “I wouldn’t know where to start.” She leaned forward so she could see his face beneath his hood, and his eyes were sweeping back and forth, as if searching for a solution. “It’s him. I know it’s him. But he’s different somehow. He seems… bigger.”

Cass didn’t know what to make of that. Though it seemed that she so rarely knew what to make of anything these days. She put her arm around her son, not knowing what else to do.

“I wish Three were here,” Wren said.

“I know, baby.”

Surely it was pure coincidence. But moments later, the Weir below erupted in a truly appalling clamor, an evil cacophony of short barking bursts. Wren instantly clapped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. Yet again, it was like no sound Cass had ever heard them make before. Even as she winced against the noise, her brain processed it all with the knowledge that Asher was behind it. And just as their strange call had become intelligible to her, this too she understood. It was the sound of a horrible mechanical laughter.

And she knew that Asher was mocking them. Taunting them. Toying with them, as was his way. Cass understood now. He wouldn’t breach the building. Not while the sun was up. He was content to keep them contained until dusk, when the full force of the Weir would be available.

Rage kindled in her heart. Not an explosive, violent anger, but a cold, hardened wrath. And as she cradled Wren’s head to her chest, she found herself no longer dreading the impending battle — but instead inviting it.

 

Sky was a patient man, but knowing his wife was downstairs with nothing but a couple of doors between her and all that trouble made every minute into a test of his will and focus. Everybody had their jobs to do. His was to watch all those Weir in the street below. It was not his job to worry. But, well, he was worried. He just had to trust his teammates to do their jobs the way they trusted him to do his.

When Gamble and the others finally returned to the roof, everyone huddled up near the middle, where Wick was. As he joined them, Sky hoped his relief at seeing his wife again wasn’t too obvious. The team always gave him grief over it, but never as much as Gamble did herself.

“Gettin’ close to go time,” Swoop said.

“Yep,” Finn answered.

It’d been about two and a half hours since Lil had sent her first message. They’d already gone over the plan multiple times, with multiple contingencies, but they talked it through again anyway. It all came down to basically the same thing. Swoop had rigged the fused front doors with a heavy charge, laid out to disintegrate a good portion of the entrance and turn it into a massive shotgun blast. After it detonated, Gamble, Swoop, Able, Finn, and Sky would kill as many Weir as they could, while Cass and Mouse carried Wick out, and Wren and Painter made a run for Lil and her people. After that, it was pretty much react and hope for the best.

Not much of a plan, really. But then Wick always said a plan was just a list of stuff that never happened anyway.

At that point, they’d all done everything they could to prepare. Now it was just sit and wait.

“I’m going back to my spot,” Sky said.

“Don’t get too comfy,” Gamble answered, and then winked at him. He gave her a little squeeze and returned to his position at the edge of the roof, smiling to himself. The wink had given her away. He hadn’t been the only one worried.

 

When Cass received Lil’s pim a few minutes later, a swirl of emotion came with it; relief that help was near tempered by the thought of what it would take to reach it. Cass steadied herself with a deep breath, and then signaled to Gamble and passed the message along.

“They’re about twenty minutes out.”

The team all started moving at once.

“Finn,” Gamble said. “They close enough to hook in to the secure channel?”

“Yeah, probably, I’d guess.”

“Patch Lil in so we can talk to her.”

“Check.”

“And go ahead and loop our principals in while you’re at it,” Gamble said, glancing over at Cass. “This would be a bad time for communication to break down.”

A few moments later Cass responded to a connection request and found herself tied in to the team’s secure comms channel. Finn quickly talked her through it; it wasn’t much different than pimming, though the voices were tinny and had a little static to them. Much lower resolution than normal, and significant compression. Standing next to someone, she could hear a tiny delay between their real voice and the one through the channel. Cass guessed it all helped reduce their signature in the open, and maybe had additional layers of encryption.

“Alright, let’s get Wick loaded up,” Gamble said. “We’ll move into position in five.”

Mouse had already assembled his emergency litter, and he worked with Finn to get Wick transferred and strapped into it. Wick didn’t make any jokes about it, and didn’t put up any fuss, which worried Cass a great deal. While everyone else was making ready, she pulled Gamble aside.

“Let me go out first,” Cass said.

“Out of the question,” Gamble replied immediately.

“Gamble–”

“Cass, it’s not up for discussion. We’ve got a plan, we’re sticking to it.” Gamble turned to walk away, but Cass reached out and caught her arm. She gripped tighter than was strictly necessary.

Gamble looked down at Cass’s hand and then back up into her eyes. “I thought we covered this, Cass. Out here, I call the shots.”

“You don’t know what you’re up against, Gamble,” Cass said. “And you don’t know me. Not really.” Cass released Gamble’s arm, but she didn’t back down. “Asher will come for me, no matter what. If I go to him, it’ll give you time to gain some distance. You transfer Wick to Lil’s people, and then you’re back up to almost full strength. I can fall back to you then, and you can pick off the pursuit.”

“They’ll tear you to pieces, Cass. I can’t allow that.”

“I’m not going to let anyone else die for me,” Cass answered. “Not anymore.”

Gamble continued to stare her down, but Cass could see the wheels spinning.

“I’m not going to convince you otherwise, am I?” Gamble said.

“No.”

“And you’re not going to recognize my authority on this, are you?”

“No.”

“Should I even bother to offer you the jitter?”

“And the knife,” Cass said.

Gamble handed her the jittergun and slid the knife out of its sheath. It had a thick, heavy blade, nearly a foot long, and curving slightly forward. There were symbols etched along it, though Cass didn’t recognize them. Gamble flipped the knife in her hand and held the hilt out towards Cass. “This has been in my family a long time,” Gamble said. “I want it back.”

“I’ll deliver it myself,” Cass said. “Though I might need to clean it first.”

“See that you do.”

“Change of plans, boys,” Gamble called. She gave a curt nod, and then went to explain the new plan to the others.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cass saw Wren was standing off to the side, looking at her. She went to him, crouched down to his height.

“I thought you were going to carry Wick,” he said.

“I’m going to help a different way now,” she answered.

“I don’t like it when you fight, Mama.”

“I know.”

“It won’t be like usual.”

“I know.”

Wren looked at her with his fathomless eyes, weary and sad. But Cass saw no fear there. “I’ll help you if I can,” he said.

“You just run to Lil, baby. I’ll come to you when I can.”

He nodded, and then approached and wrapped his arms tightly around her neck. She hugged him back with everything she had. And hoped it wasn’t goodbye.

Afterwards, they all gathered their things. Swoop had stripped out some of the weight from their packs. It seemed a shame to leave perfectly good supplies behind, on the roof, outside a Weir-infested enclave, where no one would ever find them. But it seemed far more foolish to risk someone’s life over a couple of extra batteries.

They moved down to just inside the hall on the second floor. Gamble and the others had taken the time to check the rooms on that floor on their last trip down. Even that was closer to the blast than Swoop was comfortable with, but it was safe enough, and Gamble didn’t want to risk giving the Weir too much time to recover after the initial explosion. If they got stalled trying to get out of the door, that would be bad news.

Painter had taken over Cass’s spot carrying Wick, and Mouse had put him in the front, near Wick’s feet. Whether that was because it was the light end or because it would be less risky if Painter dropped him, Cass didn’t know. Able had taken charge of Wren, and would ensure that he made it safely to Lil.

Swoop and Gamble stood just behind Cass.

Lil called in and let them know they were a couple of minutes out. They were going to stay out of sight until the initial blast. No one was sure how the Weir were going to react once they showed up, and Cass wanted to make sure that the bulk of the fighting didn’t fall on them. As far as she was concerned, they were here to get Wren out, and as much of the team as they could. If they all made it, she’d consider that a bonus.

“Ready?” Swoop asked.

Cass gripped the knife in her right hand and the jittergun in her left. She drew a deep breath. Focused her mind. Asher was out there. Waiting. However many of them there were, they were all Asher to her.

“Do it,” Cass said.

“Fire in the hole, fire in the hole,” Swoop said calmly, just loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. He squeezed a device in his hand three times, and then hell itself seemed to shake the building.

Dust leapt from every surface, and bits of concrete crumbled down the stairwell. Even two floors up, the blast vibrated Cass’s teeth and made her ears hurt. But there was no time to think. Swoop banged her on the shoulder with the palm of his hand, signaling for her to go, and Cass took off.

All anxiety melted away as she felt the surge of focus. She was on the ground floor without having registered taking the stairs.

Down the hall ahead of her was an opaque white and grey smoke, swirling where she knew a door once stood. Cass plunged through, heard the crunch of debris beneath her feet and knew she was through the front room and then out into the open. The smoke was dissipating in the steady wind, just enough for her to start making out the charred, twisted, and broken forms of the Weir who’d been caught in the blast.

For a brief moment, she wondered if — by some miracle — the explosion had killed them all. The hope was quickly dispelled by an electric scream from somewhere in the smoke ahead of her. They were coming.

The first Weir leapt from out of the smoke in front of her, just to her right, and Cass spun to avoid it and fired a burst from the jittergun into its back as it landed. A second lunged from her left, and she met it with a cleaving stroke from the knife, dropping it at her feet.

She could see them now, lurching through the cloud towards her, two here, three there, and a fury overtook her. She fired one burst, then another, and then leapt forward and drove her knee into the chest of an approaching Weir, before severing its head from its body. The knife flashed almost of its own accord, perfectly balanced, deadly with every stroke.

Weir closed in from the sides, and she met them head on, smashing her fist into one’s face and then whirling to shoot another. To her surprise, they seemed to be moving at almost half-speed, and Cass found herself anticipating their movements. One crouched back as if to pounce, and Cass stomped forward, crushing her heel into its face before it even started forward.

A quick spin and she took a leg just below the knee, and then came up and caught another Weir in the throat with the muzzle of the jitter. She squeezed the trigger as it stumbled back and didn’t even bother to watch it fall.

The smoke continued to clear as Cass pressed forward, cutting her way through the throng. Her thoughts flashed back, back to the night, long ago, in the Strand when she’d fought among them, with a different result. Now, her full fury and vengeance coursed through her and into the Weir who could not stand before her.

But still they came, and where one fell, two soon took its place. As the air cleared around Cass, she saw that the blast had killed many and left others stunned. But she had little time to count casualties. The Weir were gathering their strength, and unity of purpose.

Cass felt the sting of claws sinking into her left shoulder, followed by a heavy impact from behind that sent her stumbling forward. She allowed the momentum to carry her, rolled, came up in a crouch and drove her blade into a Weir. Fired a long burst into the mass that rushed towards her now. And when she released the trigger, still they fell.

She leapt to her feet and spun to take the arm from the Weir who had been behind her, and then on the backswing, crushed its skull with the pommel of her blade. Cass continued her spin and brought the jittergun up, knowing the other Weir would be nearly upon her.

She fired off a burst, and then another, and found herself with more breathing room than she’d expected. Then she understood. Gamble and her team were out now, assisting.

Cass plunged forward, throwing herself into the nearest pack of Weir, trusting in the team that supported her. But as she fought on, she found the Weir rapidly changing tactics. They began to coalesce around her, feinting and falling back from one side, and instantly surging forward from another. Before Cass could react, she found herself being swallowed up and driven further away from her companions.

The Weir began landing more strikes, her cheek, her back, her thigh bled freely. Even as Cass adjusted, they now seemed to anticipate and counter her every move. Their shrieks threatened to disorient her. As they pressed in around her, she knew her only chance was to focus all her wrath on a single point, to drive through the crush.

Cass, fired her jittergun, slashing with her knife, forcing her way back towards the building, back to where Gamble and the team were. But in the churn, she’d lost her bearings, and the writhing horde blocked her view. She took a heavy blow to the left side of her head, and the world tilted, and Cass felt herself sliding, crashing through glass and barbed wire. She was on the ground. On her back. And for the second time in her life, she knew she would die.

With a roar, Cass squeezed the trigger and held it so hard she thought her knuckle might break as the jittergun spewed a stream of death into the tide of Weir that surged towards her. And then — above the demonic cries of the Weir and the buzzsaw scream of her weapon — Cass heard the strangest sound.

A single clear note, high and piercing, like the wind in a winter storm. A human voice. Singing.

And at its sound, the Weir checked their advance. Cass continued to fire into the Weir until she realized that the jittergun had ceased to buzz, and now made only a rapid clicking sound as it tried to feed from an empty magazine.

Strong hands seized her from behind as three forms swept past her and into the Weir. A swirling, almost blinding blue-white light emanated from the three as they moved among the Weir and cut them down with swords that seemed made of fire.

Cass felt herself slipping away, and everything grew smaller, and darker. And the last thing that Cass beheld was a terrifying vision. One of the three forms turned her direction, and its face was of lightning — with blazing coals for eyes, an avenging angel among ravaging demons. And Cass knew no more.

 

Cass felt herself floating. Or rather, it seemed more like she was falling, but upwards. Her eyelids weighed heavily on her eyes, as if the pressure from the speed of her movement was forcing them into the sockets. Memory fragments returned. Her right hand clenched, desperate to cling to Gamble’s knife, the one that had been in her family a long time, the one Cass had sworn she’d return. But her hand was empty. They had grabbed her. Dragged her away. The Weir had taken her. Again.

Her eyes drifted open, blurred. Tongue too big in her mouth. Everything felt too heavy. She was on her back. A hulking figure loomed. It reached for her. Cass tried to withdraw, but her body barely responded.

“Easy, sister,” a deep baritone voice soothed, the grip firm, heavy, but gentle on her arm. “You’re safe.”

She’d heard that voice before. A long moment. Then her mind processed.

“Mouse?” she said. It took more effort than it should have.

“I’m here,” he answered.

Her eyes still hadn’t focused. “I feel heavy.”

“I had to dose you. Probably going to feel groggy for a while.”

She inhaled deeply. It seemed to take a long time. “Why the dose? Am I hurt bad?”

“They carved you up a little, and you took a hard blow to the head. Nothing life threatening.” He chuckled a little. “I had to dose you because you kept trying to fight everybody.”

“Where’s Wren?” Cass asked.

“Sleeping. It’s the middle of the night. He’s perfectly fine. Not a scratch on him.”

“We made it?”

“We did.”

“All of us?”

He paused. “Almost.”

Cass closed her eyes. “Wick?”

“He’s in rough shape, but he’s hanging in there. Had to give him a fresh whole blood transfusion on the trip back. Got a little lucky there. Turned out Lil was a match.”

She opened her eyes again, turned towards Mouse. Her vision was clearing some. She could see his features. He looked tired. “Wick’s alive?”

“He is,” Mouse answered. He clenched his jaw with passing emotion. “We lost Elan.”

“No,” was all Cass could say. Mouse didn’t respond. There wasn’t really any reason for him to. She had prepared herself as best she could, expecting to lose some of their own. But to cost Lil and her wounded community another life… it seemed unconscionable. And Elan. She remembered him talking with Wren back before they’d left the village, talking about his son. What was his name? Ephraim. Now fatherless.

“How?”

Mouse shook his head. “It was a battle, Cass.” But something in his voice, or his expression — or both — said more. The last moments replayed in her mind. The Weir pressing in around her. Hands dragging her backwards, as angels met the advancing creatures. She’d thought she’d been hallucinating. Now Cass knew she hadn’t been. Not completely.

“He died saving me.” It wasn’t a question.

Mouse took a moment, searched for the words, and then just said, “It wasn’t your fault. And if not for you, more would have died.”

“That doesn’t bring Elan back.”

“Neither does feeling guilty.” She just looked at him, saw pain there, but also grim acceptance. “He knew what we were up against, Cass. He wanted to come help. He volunteered to come help. I guarantee you, if he’d known for sure how it was going to turn out, he still would’ve come.”

“You sound awfully sure for someone who didn’t know him.”

“I knew him. He was a warrior, same as me. And if you gave me the choice between staying behind while others went to war, or laying down my life to see my brothers and sisters safely home, it wouldn’t even be a choice.”

Cass looked up at the ceiling. It was a bond she’d witnessed before, but had never known herself, not outside of her children. “How’s Lil?”

“Glad so many made it home.”

They fell into silence after that. Cass still had many questions, but they seemed to slip through her mind before she could fully grasp them. And while she chased them, a deep and dreamless sleep overtook her.