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We stayed the night at the bonded settlement the day we drove up to the Cauldron together. They made their homes out of wood, thatch, and mud. Scrapped and recycled furniture existed in the settlement, but a lot of it they logged from the forest on the other side of the lake. They had a single inn called Firefly that was set up for travelers.

The bonded had no name for their settlement, but it was always growing, and caravans honestly traded as much with them as Hypoxia. That particular night they had no more rooms available at Firefly, but, on a spur of the moment impulse, you asked if we might sleep on the thatch roof, long as they locked up our bike for the night. Firefly was this three story building with a slanted thatch roof, which we got to from a window in the attic. We left our locked bike in a shabby garage. We weren’t really worried about it getting stolen. Bonded had no use for that kind of stuff. They liked walking everywhere, and all the caravans here liked the Scissor-Tails too much to have anything but reverence for you, Peacock. You had spent years making the Green Sea one of the safest places anyone knew.

We lay back on the thatch roofing, side by side with a blanket draped across us. The grasses of the Green Sea actually made a pleasant bed, and the roof was strong enough to support us long as we didn’t jump around. You rested your head on my collarbone, curled around me while I lay on my back, watching the stars.

Quietly, I asked, “You asleep, Peacock?”

“Mmm?” a sleepy grunt.

“Sorry, it’s nothing. I was just thinking.”

“You’re always thinking,” you complained fondly. “What about?”

“The bonded. The maelstrom doesn’t seem to mind all the stuff they take from the land.”

“They’re not trying mine shit or have a bunch of farms, either,” you said. “They know better than anyone what’s too much.”

“Then why don’t we work with them like that?”

You shrugged. “Hypoxia doesn’t need to.”

“In the Wastes, folks were always suspicious of them. Why most came up here.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“I suppose, I can’t imagine not living in Hypoxia with you, though.”

“Heh, good answer,” you said, nuzzling into my neck.

“What about you?”

“I can’t imagine being bonded.”

“Why not?”

“It’s just…” you stopped; I heard your tail gently slap the thatching while you thought of what to say. Eventually, “I’m not someone who thinks about the future, about other lives. I think about you, how good you smell right now.”

“You do stay in the present a lot.”

“Keeps me grounded, unlike you.”

“I’m plenty grounded,” I said with a little chuckle.

“Yeah yeah, all I mean is, there is so much to protect in this world. Not just you or our turf, but the Green Sea, these bonded. If we let this place get infested with raiders it’d be a lot less safe for them to make the journey here. Then there’s the caravans, and anyone trying to make a life in Hypoxia.”

“What about you?” I asked, finally looking down from the stars to your eyes. They shined twice as much, but with a perplexity the stars never offered.

“What about me?”

“Don’t you ever want to protect yourself?”

Peacock, you just swished your tail and chewed your lip. “What are you getting at?”

I rolled on my side, so we faced each other like two closed parentheses, everything we shared between us and everything else in the world to our backs. I cupped your cheek, your face tilting into the touch, and I said, “Peacock, I don’t know anyone with more love than you. Sometimes it’s scary to think about, to know I mean so much to you—I mean, I don’t really feel worthy of it—don’t say anything! I know that look and I’m not finished. Anyways, you have this boundless love for the people in this world, and you want to protect every person you can, you want to see them thrive, and you devote yourself to them. But where is your love for yourself?”

“Jeez, Kestrel,” you whispered, “ask the fucking tough questions tonight, why don’t you?”

“Don’t try to change the subject.”

“I’m not, I’m not!” You sighed, “If I’m honest, I don’t really see it as all that important. Like, what does it matter? I love myself because you’re a part of my life. I love myself because I love the Scissor-Tails. All this stuff is my reason for living—it’s just the way I’m wired, to be there for others.”

“Heh, fine,” I kissed you and admitted, “And if I’m honest, I don’t think I could love you this much if you were any other way. In fact, I think you make people more loving, Peacock. When I see you, I tell myself, if I have even half that much devotion in me I must be doing the world good.”

“God you’re such a cornball, you know that?”

“Tsk, you love it.”

“I do.” You kissed me this time, snout to snout. A tender peck, a lick on my lips, then whispered, “You know, with how much the two of us have between us, I bet our love could destroy the fucking world.”

I giggled. “You want to try? Seems like it’d make a lot of people mad.”

“Nah, not the kind of scene I like to cause.” A hand of yours slid to my thighs, slipping between them and rubbing. “I have an idea of a scene we can cause, though.”

“Really, Peacock?”

“Mmm, you owe me. Get all mushy with me and I’m gonna make your hips feel like mush.”

I couldn’t say no to that. I couldn’t say no to you. When had I ever been able to?

***

I left Hypoxia after a foul argument with Motmot. She wanted the whole gang to ride up for you—strength in numbers and that sort of thing. I told her to stay put with the girls and keep the garage under lock and key. I woke with a bad feeling that morning—as if Hypoxia was under siege. It wasn’t. No one stopped me when I left. Far as it concerned me, no one could stop me.

The Welt, being far as it was, I wondered if you even got there in time. I left late morning to pick you up at the time you asked. The Welt was a smudge of darker green on the horizon when I noticed the bikes.

The four that came with the Elect. Their riders had laid them flat in the tall grass to hide them until they spotted me. I knew right away they had no mind to talk to me. What I didn’t expect was spotting a furred figure on the lead bike: Canaan. Still bare chested as he raced toward me. I gunned the throttle and sped ahead, pushing my bike to its limit. Four other bikes was too much for me to handle, but if I managed to get into the Welt I could get help. At least, I hoped the Will would help me.

I lucked out. Their bikes weren’t as fast as mine. They tried to cut me off but I blew past the group. Shots rang out behind me, but nothing hit. I’d not brought more than my sword. Usually, when I knew I’d be dealing with thugs on the back of my bike, I’d bring a sidearm, a pack of caltrops, maybe even a grenade or two if I thought I needed it. For four bikes versus just me I would have wanted all of that.

I glanced behind me as I closed in on the Welt. I had about a hundred meters on them. I needed to wait until the last possible moment to slow down. The deeper I got into the Welt—

Don’t let them inside, Peacock.

Your voice in my head almost made me lose control of my bike.

The bonded attached to their vehicles are spikes of pain. Too much pain if they enter here. Draw them away, draw them away from those bonded.

Shit. I banked right, leaning hard into a turn with all the force of my momentum threatening to crash me. The Elect followed, and I considered my options while cutting a blazing furrow through the tall grasses. If I slowed down they would gain on me, but at these speeds I only needed to hit something like an old stump or a particularly dense patch undergrowth to throw myself off my bike.

I risked another glance. It was hard to see, but the bikes clearly pulled away. They knew I wanted the Welt, and opted to turn back to it to block my advance.

Give us a moment. We will assist you.

I slowed to a stop, catching my breath while adrenaline pounded through me. I said, certain you’d hear me, “If I circle round to the north end of the Welt I can grab you, and we can circle back to town.”

We don’t have time.

“How would you know?” I asked, sensing, now that all my attention wasn’t on the chase, that it was the Will who spoke to me.

The Wound must be closed today, the Elect cannot be allowed to reach what you call the Cauldron.

Right, if those bonded warped across on their vehicles were what they did to their own bonded, I could all too easily imagine them harvesting all the bonded in the Green Sea.

I said as I idled my bike back around towards the Welt, “You aren’t here because of Hypoxia, but because of the Cauldron.”

Life must be protected.

“What about the people in Hypoxia, huh? What happens to them when the maelstrom is back?”

All life will be protected, long as it self-sustains.

I spat in the grass as if the Will cared at all for my disdain. “And you of course get to decide what is self-sustaining.”

We will.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The one named Kestrel shall provide us the empathy needed to treat your kin fairly.

“Wait, fuck no. You’ve used her enough.”

She is in agreement. It was her idea.

“Fuck if it was.”

She wants to do this.

“Goddammit, shut up. I don’t know what you have in mind for her, but fuck if you’ll get it.” I revved my engine. “If you can hear me, Kestrel, I’m coming.” I gunned it for the Welt.

We will aid you how we can, the Will told me. Before I even got my bike up to speed, the tips of all the Green Sea grasses around me blossomed open. The soft blue spore pods we collected in the spring suddenly grew into place, blooming impossibly fast. A second later the wind gusted, and seed pods swept into the air. A bellowing gale thundered ahead of me, scooping up a wave of the blue spores, creating a buzzing swarm that soon made it impossible to see anything in front of me. It was massive, a hundred paces out on each side of me like the great arms of wings.

They will not see you coming, but I will tell you when they are close.

Bullets punched through the wave. Semi-automatic fire popping in spurts, but it was haphazard spray. A single bullet passed over my shoulder, but most shots went wide. I reached behind my back and swung my shoulder strap around to my front so I could unsheathe my sword. I was going to make these fucks fear more than the maelstrom.

You are upon them.

The Will gave me a felt sense of them: Four bikes, riders straddling them with weapons drawn. Canaan with his pistol and all the rest with rifles. The humans fired blindly, but Canaan didn’t waste his ammo. I cut right and swung, caught one of the Elect in the visor. At that speed, my sword wrenched in my grip, painfully, as the blade sheared through the human’s helmet, shattering it and skull alike and sent the corpse flying off the bike. I pumped my brakes and spun into a hard turn, facing the group again before making another charge. The storm of spores was now a blizzard all around us, making visibility almost impossible.

I felt it before I heard the round. A single loud shot that exploded into the handlebars of my bike. Without my riot gear it might have been like a frag grenade going off in front of me, but I absorbed the shrapnel, and the bullet was slowed enough it only felt like a gut punch when my kevlar got hit. My bike I trashed. I was able to pull it into a fishtail, jumping off in a maneuver I practiced far too many times. I hit the ground in a roll, cradling my sword as the world spun and I bounced across the grass. I heard my bike crash into another, a cacophony of shredded metal and shouts.

There are two left.

“Fuck,” I spat, pushing myself to my feet while all kinds of sore. I’d be feeling that landing for the next week.

With the grass whipping around and the spores, I couldn’t see more than five paces in front of me.

“Fuck this sucks,” I muttered under the wind.

They are coming.

“Come on Peacock! I know that crash didn’t do you in!” Canaan shouted. He was twenty paces to my left, I knew as if the Will gave me a sixth sense. And the last guy… waiting a few feet behind.

They are springing a trap.

Again, what I wouldn’t kill for a grenade, but in this miniature cyclone I barely kept my footing, so probably best I stuck with a melee weapon.

His back is turned.

I charged. The wind muffled my footfalls until I spotted the silhouettes of both, my sword pointed to thrust. I ran it through the back of the closest one, which, fortunately for Canaan, was the final Elect soldier. The wolf spun in a blur, saw my sword sticking out this guy’s guts, and didn’t hesitate to unload three shots into the man. Even point blank, the rounds didn’t pierce the guy and both sides of his armor. But Canaan hadn’t meant for them to—the force of those shots threw the body on top of me. I lost my footing and fell, having enough time to glance up to see the barrel of that modded pistol turn on me.

A gale, harder than all the others, nearly blew Canaan over. His pistol fired and took a fat, wet chunk out of the ground beside me. I smelled cut grass suddenly in this storm of spores, then I was out from under the corpse, sword pulled free. My first swing struck Canaan’s pistol. He had to drop it to not lose a finger. It went sailing into the grass as Canaan backpedaled.

I gripped my sword in both hands and faced him.

“Don’t make me kill you, Canaan.”

He laughed and waved at himself with both hands. “Come on, samurai, show me what you got.”

I lunged, and he did not try to dodge my thrust. Instead, with his metal, prosthetic arm, he batted the blade out of the way before clocking me with his other first.

If Motmot hadn’t given me plenty of practice taking hard hits, I might have lost the fight right there.

I found my footing and bobbed back from his metal arm, swung like a club at my head. I was too close to use my sword well and he knew it. I heard claws scrape across my armor when a swipe for my face hit my shoulder instead. He snarled, teeth flashing, and shoved me over. We both hit the ground hard, but again, Motmot taught me plenty about fighting a much bigger opponent. With the nimbleness of an acrobat, I tucked my knees to my chest when I fell, so when he tried to pin me I kicked out and threw him over my head.

We both scrambled to our feet, and I thought I had my advantage again but saw him doubling back for the rifle of the Elect I ran through. I lunged and caught Canaan just as he turned around with the weapon in his good hand. I heard the trigger pull, and it clicked. Jammed. Laughing, I made a hard, horizontal sweep Canaan couldn’t dodge. He caught it with his prosthetic arm, and the force of my swing shattered the casing of his arm. The elbow joint went slack, and the blow threw Canaan to the ground.

Before he could recover, I stomped down on the wrist of his other hand and pushed my sword to his throat.

“We’re done,” I snapped.

The wind died in an instant.

The spores became a stunned fall, gentle as a first snow. Both Canaan and I were panting, both of us plastered in spores like it was the blood and gore of some terrible battle only we survived. He tried to move his prosthetic, but it wouldn’t respond to his commands.

“Don’t make me kill you, Canaan.”

“Why don’t you?” Canaan snarled.

“Because I don’t want to find BluRay a new boyfriend.”

He actually grinned, looking like a mad man. He laughed. “I knew dating that boy was a good idea!”

I did not let my guard down. “Roman send you after me?”

“He and Frost did, yeah.”

Fuck. I said, “Even Frost wouldn’t sell out that fast.”

“Hah! Maybe not, but when you’re going on about marrying the maelstrom she might be more willing to fuck you over.”

“She chose the Elect over the maelstrom? After everything we saw yesterday?”

“And what about this freak show we both survived? I admit, when all those spores were coming at me, I was ready to shit myself.”

“The maelstrom was helping me.”

“Heh, seems we’ve both made our beds, then.”

“Tell me what else the Elect is planning.”

“I don’t know, how to take over the world?”

With a curt swipe, my sword sliced open a gash on Canaan’s collarbone.

“Ouch! Warn me next time you decide to punish me, mommy.”

“I don’t have time to fuck around, Canaan. What’s going on in the settlement?”

“He doesn’t know much more,” you called out from across the clearing. I almost let Canaan go when I saw you, standing between the trees at the edge of the Welt. Blue spores had covered the blistered bark in a spray of color with rivulets of bright red blood cutting through it. You wore the same clothes as before, and I knew it was you because your back was straight, your finely furred hand clasping your shawl at the throat. You looked radiant.

“Are you going to kill me or what?”

Fuck. I really wanted to after the week I had.

As if sensing it, you said, “We aren’t, because you are going to help us.” You crossed the distance between us, and the entire time Canaan howled with laughter. You said, “You can release him, he knows he’s beat.”

“Heh, could just be playing dead till—”

“I can read your thoughts. I know you’re hungry for a chance to get out of this alive.”

Canaan did not like getting his bluff called. He snarled, “Stay the fuck out of my head.”

“I’m not in your head.” You brushed your ear with your aloe and waved outward. “It just spills out and I see it.”

“Pfft, fine. You’re not going to kill me, and I’m not stupid enough to take on both of you with one good arm and the whole fucking maelstrom backing you up.” Satisfied he knew his place, I stepped back. Canaan sat up and examined his prosthetic. “BluRay is going to kill me for this.”

“As if he won’t be pissed about you working for the Elect?”

“Listen, I go the way the wind blows. Till this shit got weird, I figured it was only a matter of time till they ran things.” Canaan grabbed the prosthetic by the elbow and began tugging on it. It took several tries, but, eventually, he tore it off his shoulder. “There.” He held it out to you, Tera. “Don’t you just hate when these things become dead weight?”

You glanced at your aloe. “I don’t know, I’m getting to like mine.”

The last of the spores finally settled. Several inches of blue seed pods coated the ground, with the opened grasses now bent at their middle as if weeping. In this mess the bodies of the Elect were half buried, and I wasn’t going to find the sheath to my sword. The strap that kept it on me got torn off in the crash, and by now I couldn’t guess where to look. It was fine, had a feeling we had a long day ahead of us.

You asked Canaan, “What did they discuss after Peacock left town hall?”

“Vye brought up the Welt, and how you two were involved. Frost and Roman got heated about it. Roman wants to bring in his boys and lock down the Scissor-Tails and the chapel.”

“Vye told them about the grotto,” you said.

“Yeah,” Canaan nodded. “You think it’s what protects folks from the maelstrom.”

“What else happened?” I asked.

“Roman couldn’t bring his boys inside, so he decided to watch the Welt. Frost got me to come along and you know the rest. We rode out here around midnight, made camp, and waited.”

My mind raced. Even with all the gear he had, Roman couldn’t just take Hypoxia over. Everyone in the settlement packed some kind of weapon, and they weren’t keen on being told to shut up and sit down. He’d need Frost, and as for the chapel, Sister Acre would pull together a mob if they tried to touch anything in the grotto. Frost knew that, wouldn’t let that idiot Elect commander cause a riot.

I asked Canaan, “Tell me, you saw her around them more. You think Frost is going to fold to them?”

“I think Frost is more scared of what the maelstrom and Welt will do than some uppity humans.”

“Her mistake, then,” you said. “We should go, we need to heal the Wound.”

“Wait,” I had so many waits, but my head hadn’t turned to making this personal—not with so much at stake. “Will said it can’t deal with the Elect when they’re by their vehicles. How are we dealing with them?”

“It can’t hit them directly, but you saw how much else it did.”

“Fuck, flower power worked pretty well on me,” Canaan said. He stood and slung his broken prosthetic over his shoulder. “How am I involved in this?”

“Frost likely won’t let me into the settlement,” I said. “We need a distraction.”

“I’m one dude,” Canaan said. “And you fucking trashed all the bikes with your little stunt, Peacock.”

A keening wail from the Welt made both Canaan and I start. From the edge forest were the scourge-ants that lived there.

You said as if you had just called them over, “They’ll give us a ride, then help you.”

Canaan, crazy-eyed, started laughing again.

***

You want to hear from me? Tsk. Fine, but don’t expect me to get long-winded like the two of you. Things went to shit a couple hours before you left to get Tera, Peacock. I felt it in the air. This ache in my knees when I feel a storm rolling in or a swarm of hummingstings blitzing toward us. I told the girls to stay at the garage, gear ready, then went out on the roof and waited.

Frost tried to be subtle about screwing us. It was almost cute. I sat on a corner of the roof and watched as over an hour more thugs packing heat came to loiter around the garage. They took up windows of other buildings, milled about in small crowds. I almost wanted to take the fight to them, but these were our people. I knew the names of most of the guys about to have a stand-off with us, and they knew ours. That probably made me feel the worst about all this. We were about to point our guns at each other when these cocks from out east just rolled in and acted like they owned us.

Anyways, I saw which way the sun was shining and went downstairs. I made the call about the garage, so if you wanna be mad at someone, I’m right here, Peacock.

I gathered the girls in the lounge on the second floor. Swan, Albie, Robin, Lark, Quetzal, Quail, Sparrow, Vulture, and Shrike all had their jackets, armor, guns, grenades, jack-knives, machetes, and most of all they had their wits. We knew this one would get ugly.

And I wasn’t losing anyone to this shit. When I sat out on the roof I told myself that.

I said, “Quetzal, you been here longest. Something happen to me then you’re in charge.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you, Motmot,” Swan said. She leaned against a wall, shoulder to shoulder with Lark, as she cleaned her claws with a knife.

“She’s right,” Quetzal said, arms folded over her chest. No one in the room opted to sit. None of us could relax—we all had that ache at this point.

I saw more of the girls ready to argue. We were just too protective of one another—all of us thinking “If someone has to take a bullet it’ll be me to keep the other girls safe.” You taught us that, Peacock. Your reckless ass always jumping in the line of fire. I said, “Just the same, we get separated, you’re in charge. Now, we ain’t staying here. Garage’s walls are made of fucking plywood, this place is going to be riddled with holes in seconds. Not to mention all the shit in the garage that might explode if we aren’t careful.”

“We’re bugging, seriously?” Quetzal asked.

I nodded. “We fight, we’ll definitely kill them all, but we may all end up killed, too. At least if we do it here.”

“So we just take the bikes and leave.”

“We leave town and we will have those Elect fucks to deal with. Different scene same story. We’ll get them, but the cost is too much.”

“You know we’re willing to pay it, right?” Vulture said. You may not remember, but she got her name before joining us, Peacock. Found her picking off raiders all on her own, this wispy black-feathered hybrid with a red beak.

“Heh, I know that. None of us would be Scissor-Tails if we weren’t willing to pay,” I said.

“So we abandon our bikes?” Quail asked with an obvious disgust. “We aren’t Scissor-Tails without those.”

“The gang is the girls, not the bikes,” Quetzal grumbled, obviously not pleased. “You thinking of digging up that old tunnel?”

I hefted a heavy, clawed paw. “These shouldn’t have any trouble with it.”

“Tunnel?” Swan asked.

The lioness suddenly looked worried. I’d forgotten she was claustrophobic. It wasn’t common knowledge, mostly cause we didn’t want to think about what this place used to be. I told the room, “The previous owners were paranoid. Given the way they kept girls here, if word got out they knew there would be trouble. So they dug a tunnel to bug out if need be. Opens up near the clinic. Peacock and I sealed up the entrances, but it’s just some wooden boards and dirt. We’re going to use it to get out of here. If we just walk out these fucks will just follow us.”

“What do we do when we get out?”

“We stay at the clinic and wait for Frost to find us.”

“Seriously?”

Quetzal said, “The town needs Bloom. Frost won’t shoot up the clinic, not unless she wants everyone here trying to gun her down.”

“Exactly,” I said.

“So we’re seriously not going to fight back?”

“We don’t shoot first,” I said. “Not this time anyways. These are our neighbors we’re talking about. My guess is most of them don’t want a fight.”

“What about the Elect?” Lark asked.

“Frost knows better than to let them in town.”

“I hate this plan,” Swan growled. “Fuck running.”

“Scissor-Tails know when to pick a fight,” I said, stern but not angry. We were all on edge, and I did my best to be the one with a cool head while you were gone. “If you got anything you don’t want to lose, be sure to grab it. Can’t be certain shit will be here when we get back.”

That was the end of it. I headed down to the garage. In a corner in the back, where a heavy tool chest sat, was the old tunnel. I shoved the chest out of the corner then started digging. Pretty quick, my claws hit the old trapdoor that led down to the place. By that point, the rest of the girls were down in the garage, too. No one talked much. The garage door had been closed up to make it clear we weren’t open for business.

I scraped most of the dirt free and wrenched the doors open. The smell of damp earth hit me. There was a ladder down to the tunnel, and I got up, clapped dirt off my paws before calling out, “Alright, let’s go girls.”

“Is this really necessary?” Swan asked.

Lark took her by the arm. “It’ll be alright, come on, girl.”

Clearly nervous, Swan let herself be led over to the tunnel. They all gathered around, Quetzal with a lantern in her hand. She tried to offer it to me, but I shook my head. “I go last. Come on.”

Quetzal didn’t argue. She descended then I handed the lantern down into the tunnel. The other girls filed along after—Swan still nervous, but Vulture and Lark soothed her enough to get down the ladder.

“Hang on a second, Quetzal.” She did, and I went across the room to a crate of munitions, which I handed down to her. “Take that, we may need it.”

Quetzal handed off the crate to two of the girls, each holding it by a handle. “What about our explosives?”

“I got plans for those, don’t worry.”

Her scowl from down in the tunnel did little to intimidate me. “You’re gonna fucking—”

“Trust me. Get a move on now. I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Fucking hell, Motmot.” But she listened, moving her way to the front of the tunnel.

Vulture, who had been near the entrance, said, “It’s not the bikes but the girls that make us Scissor-Tails, huh?”

I just offered her a wink and urged the girls on their way. Then it was just me and the shop. I admit, got a bit nostalgic for a minute. I wanted to believe things were going to be okay. Frost would come in, see no one was home, and leave the garage alone.

But I couldn’t just leave it at that.

It almost had this zen to it, pacing around the room and arranging things by myself. I piled up all our tanks of biofuel, then took the fireproof safe where we kept all our explosives and spilled all that shit behind the pile. I set the safe down, sat on it with a single incendiary grenade and my shotgun in my lap, and I just waited.

Frost showed up a while later. That Elect commander and several others with her. Whole posse walked right up to the locked gate and Frost said, “No visitors today, Motmot?”

“Not till Peacock gets back.”

“Bout that,” Frost put her hands on her hips. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to run the Scissor-Tails. Peacock got a little too crazy, so we put her down when she left town.”

I scoffed. “Expect me to believe that?”

Frost shrugged. “You wait a few hours and I can drop her armor off.”

“No body?”

“Told Canaan to burn it so she don’t come back bonded.”

“Peacock’s not dead. I’d have felt it.”

“That so?”

“Yeah, now fuck off.”

“Sorry, can’t do that, Motmot.”

“You are to turn over this building, your arms, and your vehicles to us,” Roman piped up.

A flicker of annoyance from Frost told me she wanted to do all the talking.

“That so?”

“Don’t fight us on this,” Frost said. “You and the girls don’t need to die.”

“Scissor-Tails die. Part of the job.”

“You’ve not,” Frost pointed out.

“Not yet.”

“Come on, Motmot, don’t be stupid. You know we got this building surrounded.”

“With our guys or his?” I pointed the shotgun at Roman.

“We’re all going to be the same here pretty soon,” Frost answered.

“Shit, you really are selling the town out, huh?”

“I’m trying to save the town.”

I got up with a grunt. “You keep telling yourself that. Gate’s staying locked till Peacock gets back.”

“Fucking stubborn cunt,” Frost snarled.

“Enough of this.” Roman reached for his sidearm and I flashed my shotgun at him. Frost leapt out of the action soon as I fired. One of the pellets cut a neat little ribbon out of Roman’s cheek, but the rest of it his armor soaked. Still, it threw off his balance, and I bolted for the trapdoor, the incendiary grenade in my other paw. I hopped down into the tunnel while gunshots rang out in every direction above me. I unpinned the grenade, tossed it back up toward the explosives I piled up. I didn’t wait to see if I hit the right thing. Back hunched so I could fit in the tunnel, I ran through the dark, shotgun cradled in both paws.

My aim had been good. It wasn’t one but about a dozen earth shaking booms that exploded the garage. The beginning of the tunnel collapsed completely, and the support beams farther down splintered and groaned ominous enough that I kept running till I saw a light up ahead. Quetzal had left the lantern down in the shaft for me, bless that bitch. I scrambled up the ladder with several of the girls yelling at me. The town had gotten thrown for a loop, and a column of smoke had gone up over Hypoxia.

That’s how I got shit to hit the fan. You know me, Peacock. I ain’t one to pull punches.

***

Tera, I about died when you suggested we ride on the backs of scourge-ants. Can you imagine suggesting that a month ago? Still, even with the added weight, these things could move fast over land. Not as fast as a bike, but they kept a tireless gallop. You, Canaan, and I all on the backs of these things, a whole hoard behind that we led straight to Hypoxia. A lot more than the thirty I guessed were at the Welt. Wasn’t sure how more popped up, but, given where we were putting our alliances right now, I didn’t mind.

We saw the smoke from Motmot’s explosion before we saw the town.

At which point, we came to a stop, careful not to give anything away too soon. Canaan, wild-eyed and exhilarated, slid off the back of his ant and bowed to us. “Well ladies, good hanging with you.”

“Just start running,” I said. “You’ll need the head start to make this believable.”

“God damn but is it going to be a hike.”

“The Will will know when to send the scourge-ants after you. We promise you won’t come to any harm,” you said.

Canaan saluted us with his prosthetic arm. “You’re both fucking crazy,” he said with a grin.

I smirked from the back of my ant. “You love it.”

He winked. “What’s the point of this world if we can’t have a little fun?” He turned and, prosthetic in hand, jogged quickly towards the town.

“What do you think that smoke is?” You asked as we lingered a moment.

“Nothing good, if I had to guess.”

“I hope the girls are okay.”

“They’re Scissor-Tails, they’ll be fine.”

But of course I worried, too.

We split off from the other ants, heading south to hopefully get into the town quietly.

***

Fucking Motmot, listen Peacock, Tera, you see these bullet holes in my wall? Who the fuck is going to patch this up before winter comes?

Sigh.

Listen, I know it’s no one’s fault. I’ve done plenty of things I thought were for the good of this town, and there were consequences, one way or another.

I knew there would be trouble when Quetzal showed up with Quail and Lark lugging in a crate of munitions. I asked them, “What the fuck are you doing in my clinic?”

“Bloom,” Quetzal said, “We need to lay low here.”

“Lay low? Where’s Peacock, what’s—”

That’s when the garage blew up.

Whole clinic rattled and shook, most of the buildings in Hypoxia did. “What the fuck was that!?” I shouted while Quetzal cursed and ran out the door. The two remaining girls set down the ammunition before Quail said to Lark, “Help Bloom get folks out of here.”

It was just me, Fluoride, and Detroit, a stout canine who was staying over with a fever. clinic was a single room with support beams, cots for patients, a table for operating, and wardrobes, lockers, and all manner of things lining the wall with medicine and equipment. Lark pointed at Detroit, who, like Fluoride, was panicking, and asked, “Can he be moved?”

“Yes, but for fuck’s sake you’re not bringing the heat here.”

“Sorry, Bloom, but—”

“Fuck off. Fluoride, take Detroit out of here. Get him over to Cairo’s and keep an eye on him.”

“You should go—”

“I’m not leaving my goddamn clinic.” I went over to a medicine cabinet and grabbed a revolver from the top shelf and a box of rounds that I dropped in my lab coat. Fluoride got Detroit out of the building about the time that Motmot came inside.

“Where’s Peacock?” I asked while the rest of your gang filed in.

“Out, coming back soon.” When Motmot told me, “You’re our hostage now,” I almost shot her in the head. I was no one’s bird in a cage. Not even for one of your girls.

“What’s going on?”

“Frost is selling out the town to the Elect and wants to start a fight with us,” Motmot said.

“Does it matter? There’s about to be a shootout,” Quetzal said. “Motmot, I don’t like the idea of holing up in here.”

Swan said, “She’s right. Elect don’t give a shit about Bloom.”

“You’re probably right. Spread out in pairs then, I’ll stay here with Bloom, the rest of you get somewhere with cover that has line of sight on the clinic,” Motmot ordered.

Your girls got into gear quick, grabbing extra ammunition, hugging, kissing, and saying goodbye before they left the clinic. It all happened so fast that when it was just the two of us again, Motmot said, “You can leave if you want.”

“Is Peacock in trouble?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’m staying,” I said.

“Heh, no wonder Peacock likes you so much.”

I ignored the comment, going to the shuttered window in the front of the clinic. I cracked it and checked outside, saw someone coming this way, but heard metal straining behind me. I turned around in time to see Motmot tearing the operating table out of the floor.

“What the fuck are you—”

“Making cover,” she said. The table was made of steel, so it actually made sense to try and make use of—still, didn’t like my clinic getting trashed.

Not that your girls let me have much of a say, Peacock.

The door to the clinic swung open. It was one of Frost’s guys, saying, “Bloom we—”

Motmot grabbed the human by his skull and tossed him inside. I didn’t watch Motmot beat the guy to shit, just heard him struggle and take hits and groan. Give your girl credit, with those claws she could have killed him easily. But after smacking him around she turned back to me while I kept a lookout and asked, “You got anything to tie this guy up?”

I pointed to a desk and said, “In the drawer, give him two chill slabs. It’ll knock him out for a while.”

I also didn’t want to deal with the man’s pained noises.

It went against my instincts, Peacock. That blast must have hurt a lot of people and here I was, stuck in the clinic with Motmot. She palmed the chill slabs into the human’s mouth, and by the time they dissolved the man had gone sedate. Gunshots started to pop off outside soon after, your girls getting into the fight. A bullet splashed through the shutter on my left, which made me start and duck for cover. Motmot cursed and hauled the operating table over, slamming against the wall next to the door. She flipped it open and poked her head out.

I felt blood pounding through me, but I wasn’t losing my cool. I’d been in shootouts before. I asked Motmot, “What’s out there?”

“Those Elect guys. Three of them.”

More shots ripped out.

“Make that four on the other side of the street.”

“Shit, do you even know how many of them there are?”

“Not enough,” Motmot said. “I’m going to head out there, think you can cover me?”

“Fuck, why do you people have to resolve everything with bullets?”

“Their commander drew a gun on me first.”

“Sure he did. Go on three,” I told her. I took a deep breath and started counting down. The tip of my revolver didn’t so much as quiver as I did. Steady hands, you needed them for the shit I saw.

“Three!”

Motmot bolted out the door, screaming to all hell, and I stood at the hole smashed through my window. I saw two soldiers thirty paces down the street, they were in cover of their armored car rolled into town, with Motmot flanking them. A third lie on the ground, blood pouring from a shattered helmet. Motmot unloaded a shotgun round, spooking the guys. I aimed my revolver best I could. Not exactly a crack shot, but shooting came pretty easy with a steady aim. My revolver almost blew out my eardrums, the sound almost drowning out Motmot as I struck one soldier in the shoulder. The caliber of my round ripped through his armor and threw him to the ground. The other guy stood to try and flee, but shots from an alley caught him. By the time Motmot reached both soldiers, all she had to do was finish them off.

I didn’t see what happened next, though, because more gunshots made me dive behind the operating table still leaning against the wall.

It was about that time the alarm bell at the northern gate started to ring.

***

“Do you ever wish we could go back?” I asked you while we sat, numbed and buzzed, at the edge of the garage’s roof. Out on the lawn burned the pyre of Raven, who died that day and whose bike I would be taking. Tomorrow would be my initiation rites, but for now the wake. Many girls sat around the fire, still drinking and talking, but we had retreated to the roof with a canteen of the hardest liquor you could get. We called it marrow, which came from harvesting the sap of a plant in the waste whose bark was made of bone.

“Go back to where?” you said, a little sleepy against my side. You had your fair share to drink at this point, and the arm I had around your waist was also to make sure you didn’t tumble off the roof.

“You know, before the Wakening happened. When everyone was human.”

“Pfft, why?”

“You never think about it?”

“Sometimes… but the whole thing sounds like a big old dream.”

I giggled a little, you said this while sweeping an arm out dramatically. “How so?”

“All the plants and animals different. The buildings still all built. No maelstrom? Anywhere? People just go their whole life without that finger scratching at the inside of their skull.” Peacock scoffed. “Fuck, sounds kinda boring.”

I stared at the pyre, now just a smoldering bonfire, and said, “Safer, though.”

“Yeah, suppose so.” We both stared at the flames, your thoughts tumbling around so much I almost heard them clattering together in your head. Eventually, you said, “I’ve spent all this time trying to protect folks, and I can’t imagine what it must have been like, to not spend every day wondering if you or someone you know was gonna die today.”

“You know, some people don’t live in the world like that.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, plenty of folk aren’t like that. Folks in Hypoxia who just have a job like Tarragon, or the people up at the Cauldron.”

“Mmm, good.”

“Good?”

You unscrewed the canteen and took a swill, coming away with a little gasp. “It means that Scissor-Tails don’t die for nothing.”

***

Gunshots in the town. I got too impatient to loop around to the south gate. We saw the post abandoned at the west gate and made a beeline for it. Our scourge-ants, you said, couldn’t go into the actual settlement. Once they hit the maelstrom’s dead zone they’d revert into startled animals, ones too deadly to let off whatever leash the Will had them on.

We dismounted about a hundred paces from the gates, and you ran for them before I had a chance to stop you. I chased after, more gunshots popping off until I heard the engine of something loud and mean revving. I caught your arm and flung you into the tall grass off the side of the dirt road into town. The gate came crashing down a second later, and I joined you in the grasses, Tera, as the Elect’s big fuck-off truck tore through the town. Soldiers mounted on its top gunned down the scourge-ants we left behind. They died shrieking before the thing turned and gunned north. Those scourge-ants Canaan had chasing him were about three hundred paces from the town.

I doubted they would do anything to the truck, but it was one less thing for us to deal with. I helped you up by the armpit and asked, “We heading straight to the chapel?”

“We have to get there soon as we can.”

“Shit, alright, let me lead the way, at least.”

Unfortunately for us, the chapel was on the east side of town. I only hoped that all this fucking chaos kept eyes off us. We jogged through the smashed gates, my sword still in hand while you had your pistol in yours. Ahead to the east was the smoke, which rose now, I realized, in the direction of the garage. I swore, Tera, I got ready to lose my goddamn mind at the thought of what might have happened to the girls, but as we moved into town I heard Swan call out, “Peacock!”

I looked to my left and saw her and Lark lying flat on the roof of a small house.

You didn’t protest when I changed course to them. I called out, “What happened, where’s—”

Lark cut me off by firing her rifle into the street she and Swan faced. Realizing we were walking into a melee, I weaved for the closest building, hugging it flat with you behind me.

You said, “Peacock, we need to—”

“We won’t get anywhere near the chapel without the girls’ help,” I said. I grabbed your shoulder with my freehand and said, “Trust me, like I trusted you with the maelstrom.”

You studied my face a moment, then smiled. “Sounds like you’re saying the Scissor-Tails can cause as much trouble as the maelstrom.”

“Fuck yeah, I am.” With a smirk, I glanced out into the alley. There was an armored van in the middle of the street with ports for rifles to stick out. There was another car Motmot was at, using it for cover while this van unloaded rounds from all sides. The fire came in haphazard spurts, my girls clearly covering and returning fire at the slits when they saw movement in the van.

“Stay here,” I said to you before yelling up to where Swan and Lark were two houses down, “Keep them spooked!”

Lark and Swan started just firing at the ports, no longer being selective. I dashed out onto the street, crossing the distance for the van. Lark and Swan’s cover got me over without any trouble. Once I did, I hugged the side of the van so the men inside couldn’t see me.

“Peacock,” another shout from an alleyway. Vulture poking her head out from around a building. She underhand tossed me a grenade. It was a good toss, and I caught it, pulled the pin with my teeth, let go of the handle. I waited only one long breath before dropping it through a port. I heard people scramble inside to toss the grenade out, but too late. It went off, and I went around to the back of the van. The door swung open as one of the disoriented soldiers tried to stumble out. I dispatched him before climbing inside and taking the life of the other three wounded by the blast.

Ugly work, but once finished I dragged the bodies out. The road had been cleared of any other fighting, and Motmot now approached the van while you did from the other side of the street.

Motmot hugged like we always did after getting separated in an ugly fight. After the tight embrace, she backed off and said, “You two are a sight for sore eyes.”

“What’s happened?”

“I blew up the garage.”

“You what?”

“Frost wanted to give it to the Elect and kick us out, had guns trained on the garage from all sides, so I blew it up to bloody their noses and keep the girls from getting ripped apart in the crossfire.”

“What about our bikes?”

“We still got yours.”

I nearly socked her, but I knew Motmot wouldn’t even be phased by it. I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. We need to make for the chapel. We’re going to let the maelstrom into Hypoxia.”

“Seriously Peacock?”

“It’s that or we keep fighting the Elect on our own,” I said, surveying the fighting on the street. “We got lucky but we won’t always. How many dead?”

“Twelve of theirs counting the ones you took care of,” Motmot said. “Fine, we let the maelstrom in, then what? What’s to stop it from frying our brains?”

“We have a plan for that,” I said, but Motmot eyed me dubiously.

“Tell her, Kestrel,” I said to you.

You were standing behind me by now, and I stepped back, leaning on the hood of the van. You said to Motmot, “The Will can take parts of us. They’re going to take parts of me to make sure the maelstrom can understand us better.”

“This sounds like a shit plan,” Motmot said.

“It is,” I said. “Why does it have to be you again? Is it cause you’re bonded?”

You shook your head. “No, it just—someone needs to make the sacrifice.”

Then fuck if I’d let you do it.

“We need to get moving,” I said. I smacked the top of the van, “We’ll use this, move in on the chapel and take care of business. Kestrel, what do you need to take care of the Wound?”

“There is a living thing inside that statue. Growing like a tumor, we just need to destroy it,” you said, hand falling to your holstered pistol.

“Let’s go then,” Motmot said before calling out, “See anyone girls?”

From up and down the streets, in alleys, on roofs, out doorways, Scissor-Tails affirmed the place was safe. I noticed then that the clinic had been shot up. I asked, “Bloom alright?”

“Pissed but fine.”

I said, “Gather up the girls. Have two ride with us, the rest Quetzal can lead through the town to flank the chapel.”

Motmot nodded, and while things worked around me, I went to see my Bloom. They stood in the back of their clinic, revolver on a counter, cigarette in their beak, cursing as they tried to get a lighter to work.

“Need help?” I asked.

“I’m going to fucking kill Motmot.”

I noticed the familiar crate of ammo inside the clinic. “She dragged you into this.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to kill her for it once I—there!” they got their cigarette lit and dropped the lighter on the counter. “For fuck’s sake, Peacock. What did you do this time?”

“The Elect want to run this place, I don’t want that.”

“I don’t, either, but you couldn’t have taken the fighting outside the settlement?”

I shrugged, “Frost let them in.”

“Fuck Frost. Tried once to get that cunt killed—next time—”

“Bloom?”

Their large blue eyes revealed they didn’t mean to share that. I shook my head. “It’s not my business, but I just wanted to come in, and, well…” I walked across the room and hugged them tight.

They held their arms out, as if hesitating to return it, then their embrace closed around me before saying, “You better not be getting yourself killed.”

“Not exactly.”

“You really need to work on your goodbyes,” Bloom said. They pressed me away and added, “Lie to me next time. Whatever it is you’re doing, Peacock, I… I won’t go with you. I won’t see you get yourself killed.”

I just nodded. “Better that way. People need you in here.”

They smiled, bitterly. “And they need you out there.”

It had always been the great tension in our relationship.

“I’ll make my girls build you a bigger, better clinic once this is all said and done,” I joked.

“You better, now get the fuck out of here and let me finish my cigarette.”

I did, unsure if I should offer my goodbyes to Motmot or anyone else.

No… Bloom wasn’t going to stop me, but someone had to do this, and I knew I wouldn’t let it be anyone else, Tera. I thought I lost you once, and I wasn’t going to lose you again.

Motmot had the van loaded up, and Quetzal already moved through the town with her group. They wove around buildings, avoiding the roads to keep from attracting unwanted attention. I got into the back of the van, and Swan, in the driver’s seat, said, “Hang on.”

They had no chairs in the back, just handholds bolted to the ceiling. The walls were bare with squares of metal hammered and welded onto the van’s interior to give it better armor. The inside smelled like oil and singed metal.

Motmot said, “No markings, nothing in this piece of shit.”

“Got bullets,” you gestured to a shelf bolted down behind the driver’s seat, filled with small boxes of ammunition with netting over the face to keep things from falling out.

“No fucking style with these bastards,” Motmot said. She spat on the floor. “Fuck the Elect.”

We all joined, even Swan and Lark from the seats up front, in a chorus to Motmot’s gesture. I turned to the slits in the van, town whisking by. I saw Za’atar: Cheesesteak at the door with a sawed-off shotgun at her hip, letting folk in the town take shelter there. We passed close to the garage, and I saw debris from the explosion, folk helping others out of buildings that collapsed in the blast. We had a lot to answer for today. I was pretty sure if word got out about what we planned to do folks would riot. Fortunately, the driver windows had a heavy tint and no one could tell it was us passing through. We attracted stares, but we made it to the chapel.

The van rocked to a stop and Swan said, “Looks like we’re in for a fight.”

“What kind?” I asked as both Motmot and I peered over the front seats. Out in front of the chapel was another van, several Elect soldiers, holding a security line while Sister Acre and about a dozen of her followers protested.

“Can we get past them?” you asked, hand on my shoulder.

“Soon as we get out they’re going to start shooting,” Motmot said.

She was right. There was only one reason we’d be using their van like this.

“Let’s play this smart,” I said. “Wait for Quetzal and the girls to get their attention.”

“Might not be able to do that, boss,” Swan pointed out a soldier walking over to the van.

“Use this for cover, but don’t let yourself get trapped inside it,” I said. “And try not to shoot Sister Acre or any of her nuts.”

Motmot made a toothy smirk. “Accidents are fine, right?”

I ignored her and said to Swan, “Wait till they’re at the door.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice, mom.”

“Psh.” I went to the back door and asked Motmot, “Think you can give me a boost?”

I opened the back and waited on Swan, you behind me and Motmot at my side. “Sure thing,” she said, “Where do you want me?”

“Close as you can get to that line of thugs.”

“Towards the chapel?”

“Just get me behind them.”

“Heh, just stay a step behind me you crazy bitch,” Motmot said. We heard Swan pull the handle on the driver side door and leapt out the van before it even swung open. The guard managed a half shout before Swan unloaded her machine pistol into the soldier’s torso. He went down and screams erupted from the crowd of Sister’s followers. Motmot and I used the confusion to charge into the middle of the crowd before she turned around, crouched, holding her shotgun at both ends. I stepped onto it, and with a grunt, Motmot heaved me into the air. I took care to jump at the end of the arc. I saw those Elect fucks scrambling, confused, before I landed on top their van, quickly rolling off it onto the other side.

Two soldiers had scrambled around the van for cover, another ran inside the chapel. One lifted his rifle at me, but I put my head down and tackled, my sword burying into his gut. His gun went off over my back as I bulled forward and knocked over the other soldier with our combined momentum. I got up and planted my blade into the visor of the other man, blood spraying from his helmet before I spun around in time to see a baton swung at my head. I caught the wrist of my attacker and hurled him out from behind the van. Flushed out, someone quickly gunned him down. More movement came from inside the van, guns firing off inside the little armored container.

“This again,” I said, grabbing the rifle from the guy I ran through. He was still alive, writhing in agony and trying to cover his torso where my sword pierced one side then out the other. I fired three bullets into his helmet, then put the gun against one of the slits of the van. The soldiers inside were facing my girls, so I blind fired inside, emptying the clip in every direction. A few bullets actually hit someone, but the rest of the soldiers got flushed as well. I grabbed my sword from the eye-socket of the opponent I downed earlier, and scared the soldiers out of cover again. It was almost too easy, cleaning them up.

I let myself get cocky. I got so busy making sure we broke their line, I did not notice movement for the chapel doors. A spray of bullets hit me in the back. My kevlar took some, but a shot in the shoulder ripped through me. I stumbled, planting my sword in the dirt to keep my balance. I cursed, hearing you shout my name. You’d reached the van and fired now on whoever had been in the doorway.

Fucking hell. I turned around, panting, sword gripped now in my offhand since my right became useless. The way had been cleared, and the girls now moved in to assist. Quetzal and her gang had come in, as well. In all the fighting, I hadn’t even noticed them getting to us. Motmot came to my side, grabbing my elbow, “You alright?”

“Still standing,” I said.

“Let us handle this. Lark! Stay with Peacock and—”

We all heard the churning roar of that armored truck. Quetzal yelled, “Get to cover!”

I saw a glimpse of it, the big black hulk of metal and fury had its front plastered with scourge-ant ichor. Those bugs stood little chance of holding a thing like that off, but it didn’t matter—if we could just get inside the grotto.

I ran for the chapel, noting you were behind me. Motmot and the girls could deal with the truck. I had faith in them—had to have faith. I made it through the doorway, and found the inside abandoned.

Bullet holes painted the insides of the place, pews with their backs exploded open and the podium missing a chunk on the corner. I noticed blood, someone being dragged away from the entrance. The grotto itself was a lot more defensible, so of course they moved back there when the heat got to be too much.

You pushed past me, saying, “Let me take point.”

“How are you on ammo?”

You held up your pistol and pulled the trigger. It clicked harmlessly.

“Got to be kidding me.”

We crossed the chapel to the doorway in the back that led to the grotto. Hugging the wall on either side of the door, I turned the knob and pushed it open with my sword. Soon as I cracked it another spray of semi-automatic fire shredded the thing. I cursed. We did not exactly have the option to charge down there.

I called out, “Alright! We got you cornered, and most of your boys in town are dead at this point. You throw your weapons out here and we’ll let you live.”

“Fuck. That you, Peacock?”

It was Frost.

“Surprised?” I asked.

“Shit, I shouldn’t be. You girls have made my life a fucking hell,” Frost said.

Another voice, that of Commander Roman, said, “Hypoxia is under the jurisdiction of the Elect. You and your bandits will be killed, whether we die here or not.”

“Nah, Hypoxia doesn’t belong to anyone,” I said. “Now come on, no reason for you or your cronies to get yourselves killed.”

An explosion from outside rattled the chapel walls.

“We can’t win against the Elect, Peacock,” Frost said.

“We don’t need to take them on alone. We can have the whole maelstrom on our side.”

She laughed. “Do you fucking hear yourself right now?”

“We have a way,” you said. “There is a way for us to coexist.”

“The Elect has found a way to cast out and destroy the maelstrom. We can be free of it. Why would you fools want—”

“We’re talking to Frost, you fuck,” I snapped. “Come on, you really going to throw away all the shit we’ve put into this town? Five years of making this place the best damn settlement around just so it can be a pit stop for the Elect? Really? You just going to let some fascist fuckboys own you, Frost?”

Barely, I heard Frost mumble, “God fucking dammit.” Three loud slug rounds fired from inside the grotto, then another two followed shortly. A pause, then the sound of a revolver being tossed into the hallway. “I’m coming out,” Frost said. “Don’t shoot.”

I peeked down the hallway, and saw Frost with her hands up, walking toward us.

I smirked. “Didn’t have any ammo left to shoot you with.”

“You fucking bluffing bitch.”

I tapped the tip of my sword on the wooden floor. “Could always gut you, if you want.”

“Just shut the fuck up,” Frost growled.

You said, “We will take care of the rest, stay out of the chapel and tell everyone else the same.”

Frost quirked a brow. “What about you two? Wait, you know what, fuck it. I don’t care what happens to you two.” She stepped past us and asked, “Your girls going to shoot me when I walk out?”

“Just keep your hands up. We know you’re more important to this town alive than dead.”

“Heh, lucky me,” Frost said, heading for the door.

We entered the grotto to find the bodies of Roman and another Elect soldier, the wounded one they pulled back into the grotto. Frost killed them both, their armor ripped open high caliber rounds and blood spilling across the dirt floor. The statue inside the grotto had been destroyed. They came in with a sledge-hammer and wrecked the thing. The hammer leaned against the base, which had been cracked open like an egg.

Inside was a shining, pulsing life of some kind. It almost looked like a curled up maggot, throbbing like a beating heart might. Still half encased in stone, I had no clue how big it might be.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked.

You stood over it, I a step behind. My shoulder still ached, and I’d need it looked at right away, but we weren’t finished yet.

“You know what a teratoma is, Peacock?”

“No clue.”

“They’re tumors that can grow hair, teeth, eyes, and other things inside you. This thing is the maelstrom equivalent of that.”

“So it just grew here?”

“There had been something living here at some point, before Hypoxia. It died, and became this.”

“So it’s a bonded?”

“In a sense.”

You turned to me. “I know you want to stop me.”

“I can’t let you sacrifice yourself, Kestrel.”

“Why, though? Why does it always have to be you?”

I shook my head. “It has to be someone, doesn’t it?”

“It can be both of us.”

“I’m not going to—”

“Listen Peacock,” you rested your aloe against my cheek in a caress. “The Will is going to take the memories of whoever is here. But if we’re both here it doesn’t need to take all of either of us.”

“But what if we don’t remember the important parts. What if we don’t remember each other?”

You smiled and nuzzled my cheek. “We’re bondmates, silly. We will always have each other so long as the maelstrom is here to connect us.”

“Heh, you really believe in this bondmate stuff, huh?”

“I believe in you, and how strong our bond is.”

“Fine,” I said. I reversed the grip on my sword and held it up between us. “Together?”

Your hand closed around mine, and we lifted the sword over the Wound. “Always,” you whispered.

And we plunged the blade into the core of this thing.

***

Voices came to me foggy, Peacock. Motmot’s. My eyes fluttered open in the grotto and I saw her there, kneeling over me. When she saw I came to, she hugged me tight to her.

“Thank fuck one of you is okay.”

Those words were all I needed to know what happened to you. I felt it, through the maelstrom, felt it in Motmot’s thoughts. They found us both lying in the chamber, sword buried deep in that thing, and you with blood running from your eyes, ears, and mouth. The psychic backlash hit soon as we killed this thing, and you did not survive.

I understood this, but I did not understand how I understood. I was bonded, but had no memory of it. Everything before the morning we left to investigate the disappearance of the Patchworks was a blur. My hand clenched into a fist in Motmot’s fur, and I shook, and I wept. More than anything, I felt the maelstrom in my head, soothing me, reassuring me, coaxing me away from the panic attack that no doubt would otherwise grip me. My left arm was a stump with aloe growing from it.

Other Scissor-Tails were in the room as well. Quail and Lark, they helped Motmot and I up, and I found, legs wobbling, I was able to stand.

“Where are we?” I asked. I understood where this was, but still could not remember as well. As if my body remembered, recognized, but my mind did not.

“Sister Acre’s Chapel,” Motmot said. She gently led me out of the grotto with the two other girls in tow. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Kestrel.”

“Mmm, and mine?”

“Motmot. I… what’s going on?”

“Wish I knew, hun.”

Quetzal, from down the hall, asked, “How is she?” Beyond her I saw the chapel had been shot up in some fight.

“Shell-shocked by the look of it,” Motmot answered for me. We entered the chapel, where they laid your body on one of the intact pews. I saw first from Motmot, somehow, what had happened to you, but seeing you again, hauntingly stiff, made my stomach churn.

“Peacock…” I whispered.

Quetzal gave me a tight hug. “We found her like that,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t help.”

I leaned into the embrace, feeling, almost too weak to move.

“We’ll hold a vigil for her tonight at the remains of the garage,” Motmot said. “One last thing to mix with the ashes there.”

“What?” I asked, now disentangling myself from Quetzal. She opted to just having a reassuring hold on my arm.

Motmot said plainly, “We’re going to burn her remains. It’s what she wanted.”

“No!” I snapped, shaking my head. “No you can’t, she will come back. She has to come back.”

Motmot, shoulders slumped, red eyes softening, said, “But she didn’t want to, Kestrel.”

“Fuck what she wants. What about what we want?” I asked. I knew, knew it plain as I knew my heart still beat in my chest, that you would come back bonded.

“That’s not how this works, Kestrel,” Quetzal whispered. I noticed the other girls in the room, all giving me sad looks.

“How did this happen?” I asked.

“You really don’t remember,” Motmot said. “Fuck, Kestrel, she did this because you said we had to.”

“Did what?”

“The maelstrom, we let it into Hypoxia,” Quetzal quietly answered.

Fuck this was infuriating as it was devastating. You were dead because of me, and I could not even remember what was so important that you risked your life in the first place.

“Hey Motmot?” Swan from across the room. “Where are we going to sleep tonight?”

“We’ll figure out something,” the badger said.

“The garage is gone?” I asked to confirm only what Swan implied.

“This bitch blew it up,” Quetzal said to Motmot.

Fuck, my whole life just… pulled out from under me. You taken from me, Peacock.

“It’s the girls, not the bikes or the garage that make the Scissor-Tails,” Motmot said as if to dismiss Quetzal. She glanced at the pew where you lay. “Today we were lucky to only lose one.”

“She’s not gone,” I pleaded. “Just wait and you’ll see.”

Motmot studied me for a moment. My vision became watery around the edges as I tried to hold back tears. She slowly shook her head. “You won’t forgive me if I do this, will you?”

“I… I won’t,” I said, throat stinging as I said it. “I won’t forgive any of you.”

“And what if Peacock doesn’t come back?” Motmot asked.

“She will. She has to. We’re bondmates,” I said. I broke free of Quetzal’s grip and stepped off the stage, to the pew you lay on. I knelt by your side and rested my cheek to yours. “She has to…” I said again, my tears now running down both our cheeks. “She can’t leave me here… she can’t…”

My memory had so many holes, but between all those gaps you were there, Peacock, and you were beautiful and perfect. I understood how you felt, losing me to the Welt. This cavernous loss threatened to devour me whole, and the only thing that kept me from falling was the chance you might come back to me.

***

You ever fall and get a nasty cut on your arm or leg, Tera? It doesn’t hurt when it happens—not a lot anyways, but the soreness after can burn, it can sting, it can even ache sometimes. That’s the first thing that hit me when I woke.

You were sitting at my side, in the clinic scratching at the bicep of your aloe arm, which was hugged tight to your chest. You’d been self-harming all night, and Bloom had been too fucking busy to notice. Your pain woke me up, like it roused me sooner.

I twitched, stirred, and groaned before you looked up from the floor. You hugged me tight in my cot, weeping, and I knew it was you, knew who you were. I knew where we were, how we got here. I felt the maelstrom in my head and knew we got it done. This maelstrom returned to Hypoxia. They’d need to find a new name for this town.

I knew I must be bonded, for why else would you be sobbing against me, babbling, “You’re back. I knew you’d come back.”

I wore no clothes, and lay in a cot at the back of the clinic. Some other folks were in here as well. A twinge in my shoulder told me it had not healed. In fact, Bloom had dressed, cleaned, and stitched up the wound before bandaging it. Regardless how long I was out, it still hurt, a lot.

I hurt from a lot of pain in the room. A feverish hybrid’s headache, a human with a leg stitched up after shrapnel slashed it open in the garage explosion, the simple hunger of another person in the room. All of it made my head spin so much I was barely able to wrap my arms around you, but I did. I held you to my chest, glad that, above all else, this was over.

You let me go and said, “I’ll go get Bloom. Stay right here.”

“Mhmm, not moving,” I grunted. For me, we had been in the grotto only a second before, like I dreamed of one place then snapped awake in this one. While you scurried out, I sat up, pulling my sheet off of me. If I was bonded, I could not tell. Fluoride, seeing me up, came over. The clinic was still shot up, operating table still uprooted and against a wall. The greasy haired human who checked on me was young, still doey-eyed.

He asked me, “How are you feeling?”

The pain I felt, I could think past it if I stayed focused. I said, “Bad.”

“You were… well, your body frankly didn’t function for several days. That’s, um, well Bloom and I don’t know what to expect.”

I pulled off my sheets and saw no plant growths on my naked body, no changes to me that I could see, anyways. The lighting was kinda dim, it was early in the morning if I had to guess. I said, “I think I’m bonded but…”

“You’d have to be, you were dead for quite a while, longer than most bonded are.”

“Oh…” I poked my thigh. Scale and muscle seemed firm. “Shouldn’t I have decomposed or something?”

“Again, we don’t really get it. We would have buried or burned your remains, but Tera insisted we keep you.”

“You mean Kestrel?”

From the doorway, Bloom said, “Peacock I don’t know whether I should shoot you or kiss you.”

“Your beak makes the second option pretty hard,” I said with a fond smile. “Better go with the first.”

Bloom smiled back, much as her beak could. She came over, saying, “Tera went to let Motmot and the other girls know.”

“Are they okay?”

“They’re all fine. Some scrapes here and there, and Albie got her ear shot off, but it’s looking better.”

“Fuck, how long was I out?”

“Four days.”

“Four fucking—what about the Elect, the town?”

“You can worry about that later,” Bloom said sternly. She asked Fluoride, “How does she seem?”

I knew this was as much about mentoring the boy as it was checking up on me, so I let him answer. “She seems completely lucid. The wound on her shoulder I’ve not checked yet, but we ought to see if it’s healing or started bleeding again.” Then he glanced at me, “You mentioned feeling ‘bad,’ before? Are you in any pain?”

I nodded. “It’s hard to explain. I’m fine, but I can feel the hurt in this room. Like that guy, that Sherbet? I can feel his headache, and Onion’s wound on his leg. Fuck, I can remember their names but I have no fucking clue who these people are.” I pointed at the base of Bloom’s long throat. “I can feel your heartburn. You’ve not been getting much sleep, huh?”

“Your girls saw to it that it would be a busy fucking week for us,” Bloom answered before she told Fluoride, “Go get some extra bandages, we’ll change these out and check to make sure nothing is infected.”

My eyes tracked Fluoride as he crossed the clinic to a wardrobe stuffed with medical supplies. As he moved, my attention fell on someone in their cot with the sheets pulled over their head. I felt a little hazy, a hit of pleasurable numbness spiking my senses. “Whoa…” I said, suddenly woozy.

Bloom, at my shoulder, already removing the bandages, asked, “What’s up.”

“I think I can feel the chill-slabs you gave that person.”

“You’re definitely bonded then. Focus on me, can’t have you passing out right now.”

I looked at her. “Heartburn it is.”

“Mmm, you’re my most common cause of it,” she teased, bandages removed. The flesh had been stitched up. Bloom pressed a digit down on the stitching.

“Ouch!”

“Well, you can still feel your own pain. My best guess is partial amnesia with a side symptom of feeling what others might feel around you.”

“Ugh, is that one permanent?”

“Tsch, ask Grock or Banyan, not me,” Bloom said. Fluoride returned, and Bloom began to reapply the bandages, but stopped. A finger dragged across the tender stitching, and she mumbled, “Interesting.” Before I could ask, she held up the finger and I saw a watery, amber liquid. “It looks like sap, though, not as sticky,” Bloom commented.

“That came from me?”

“I’d have to cut you open to confirm, but my best guess is your blood or some other part of you changed for this secretion. You certainly don’t have any plants blossoming, hmm?”

“So I guess I am bonded?” I said, unable to hide a tinge of disappointment.

“Who cares?” Bloom said, “You’re here and that’s what matters to any of us.”

“Peacock!” The door banged open, and Bloom wheeled about, glaring.

“Quiet!”

Motmot cringed. Sheepishly, she filed in with the rest of the gang. Bloom gave my cheek an affectionate peck. “I’ll talk to you more when you’re done catching up.”

***

Bloom wanted you to stay at the clinic in case your arm finally got infected, but after we noticed how much pain the place caused you, we agreed to move you upstairs to the doctor’s tiny apartment. They gave it up, grudgingly, vowing to me while Motmot carried you out, “If she thinks I won’t still sleep in my own bed just because she’s in it she can frankly sleep on the floor.”

I followed Motmot up, and the other girls went back to town hall where they were staying. You honestly looked small in this bed when Motmot set you down in it, and the first thing you asked when it was just the three of us was, “Where’s my sword?”

“Swan took it,” Motmot said. “Don’t worry, it’s in good hands. Not like you’ll be needing it anyways.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

My tail curled about my waist and I ran my fingers through it nervously. Motmot glanced at me from where I sat on the bed beside you and asked, “You want to tell her or should I?”

I bit my bottom lip but looked at you and managed, “Motmot kicked us out of the Scissor-Tails.”

“Excuse me?” You tried to get up, but, with a single paw, she shoved you back into bed.

“You died,” Motmot snarled. “It was the one thing I told you not to do and you fucking did it, and when you fucking did I took over like we always said I would. First thing I did was kick you both from the gang.”

“Fucking hell, Motmot, that doesn’t—”

“You love her more than us, Peacock!” Motmot snapped. “And she feels the same. Listen, I know you both love all of us a lot and we love you, but the two of you were putting each other before the gang. Everything is fucked in the town now, and to top it off the Elect might be back who knows when.” She sneered at us both. “Besides, with Tera missing an arm and you with your weird bonded shit, both of you could get hurt.”

I bit my tongue. I knew this fight would have to happen at some point. You fired back, “You can’t just throw me out of the group—”

“Can you throw a punch without basically clocking yourself, Peacock? What if you see someone get shot, will you be on the ground writhing in pain with them? Fuck if I’m going to let you find out the hard way,” Motmot snarled. “The girls and I all agreed on this before you woke up, and this bonded shit basically seals it. You had a good run, but you’re done, Peacock.”

“Fuck, Motmot please—I… I don’t know—”

“You’ll both figure something out,” Motmot said to me, as if this was a “You take it from here” gesture.

I squeezed your hand and whispered, “It’ll be alright, love.”

“We will always make space for the both of you, and if you need a place to work and live, once we get the garage rebuilt you’re welcome to live there. I love you, Peacock. But fuck…” Motmot stopped, tears in her eyes. “I can’t handle seeing you dead on the ground again. If this is what it takes, then it’s what it takes.” You stared at her, mouth hanging open. We might as well have took your arms and legs from you, and it pained Motmot and I both. I could sense the conflict storming through her, sensed how much she wanted to comfort you.

But she remained firm, and I quietly interjected, “There are other ways to protect, Peacock. We have our whole lives ahead of us to figure out what that looks like.”

“I… I… fuck, Motmot, will you just hug me already?”

The big badger came in and embraced us both. She sucked in a quavering breath and whispered while hugging us tight, “I love you both so fucking much. Whatever happens, Peacock, the girls and I will always look out for you. You’ve earned a lifetime of devotion from us.”

“Shut up, you fucking bitch,” you said, muffled by her fur and trying not to cry. “I’m supposed to be mad at you… goddammit.”

“You can be both,” Motmot said. “You remember what you told me when we first started the gang?”

“I…” you paused, and we both felt you go a little slack. “Fuck… I don’t remember, Motmot.”

Motmot let you go and glanced at me. “Tera said you’d come back with holes in your memory.”

I said to you, “I’m missing chunks from before Hypoxia, and just about everything from the day we entered the Welt to the time we closed the Wound.”

I sensed your thoughts racing, trying to take stock for the first time. “I… I know things happened in places… but the details are missing. Fuck, Tera,” your eyes lit up with concern, “I don’t remember how we met? But the last week—or, whatever that gap of time you’re missing is crystal clear to me.”

“Heh, well, at least you can help each other fill in the holes,” Motmot suggested. “Give you something to do while you figure out what to do with yourselves.”

You nodded. “I guess… fuck the maelstrom, though.”

“Fuck the maelstrom,” Motmot echoed. Both of you opted not to spit on the floor of Bloom’s apartment.

“It’s actually been really good to us,” I said. We all felt it, a soothing presence in the back of our heads. The maelstrom had been kinder to us.

“She’s not wrong,” Motmot admitted. “Town’s doing fine, no one’s ended up murdered or maelstrom walked anywhere.”

I said, “The exchange with the Will worked.”

“Fuck, it better have.”

Motmot said, “Listen, I am going to get out of here. We’ll be at town hall when Bloom kicks you both out.”

“Heh, won’t be long knowing her,” you joked.

“Love you two.”

“Love you,” we both said in unison before meeting eyes and giggling.

“Dorks,” Motmot teased before leaving.

The door shut, and I cuddled up against you, aloe arm draped over your front, other burrowed under your neck to hug you close. I whispered, “Are you mad at me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You didn’t want to be brought back bonded.”

You considered this, and turned in the bed to face me, bandaged shoulder facing up. I sensed your thoughts, but let you say, “I was scared I wouldn’t have anything when I came back.”

“Peacock…” I whispered, nuzzling your nose, “there is nothing to be afraid of. We have each other, and we have the whole world.”

“That’s a lot of turf to patrol.”

“Hehehe, no one’s ever accused you of not being ambitious.”

You studied my eyes, and I sensed no thoughts from you, just warm, radiating affection. I know I felt the same. We were simply present with each other, and you whispered, “So this is what being bondmates feels like, huh?”

“Expected something different?”

“Mmm, psychic links, our bodies grown together like a two-headed chicken, something like that.”

I laughed. Laughed because we both still lived in this fragile fucked up world, and it was ours, Peacock. All ours.