 
Ava's War

By G.E. Nosek

Copyright 2018 G.E. Nosek

Smashwords Edition

Cover illustration by Sarah Carolan

This book is available in print at most online retailers.

Also by G.E. Nosek:

Ava of the Gaia

Book One in the Ava of the Gaia Series

Ava Rising

Book Two in the Ava of the Gaia Series

For Grandma, who fought for justice.

Chapter 1

_Frozen eyelashes are very uncomfortable_ , Ava reflected, fluttering hers rapidly to dislodge the ice that had crystallized there. She raised a frost-covered index finger, examining its sparkle in the sunlight.

"Ava! You're turning blue," Lucas shouted. He exhaled and a cloud of steam overtook her. She shivered contentedly as the kitchen temporarily became a sauna.

"Again please," she whispered, hopefully, but Lucas had already turned away. He crouched warily behind Owen, who was struggling to hold their attacker in a headlock. Taylah's living room was destroyed. Roots had stabbed through every window in the small home. Shattered glass glittered in the sunlight. A thin layer of ice coated the floor. What had once been a metal side table was now a spider, skittering haphazardly around the kitchen—Taylah's handiwork no doubt. Every now and then it would crash into a table or an appliance with a shriek of metal scraping against metal.

Ava blinked. Only an hour ago the living room had been in perfect order—cheery, crowded with plants and books—with nary a metal spider to be seen. Part of her wanted to dismiss the scene in front of her as another dream. She'd been asleep for the last three days. Taylah, Lucas's mom, had done something to make her slumber. Makhai assassins had attacked Ava and Lucas on the Great Ocean Road, just as Ava was facing off against an army of great white sharks—a test from Mother Earth Herself. Without even realizing it, Ava had channeled so much power and so much rage back on the beach that she'd created an ocean vortex to swallow the Makhai assassins whole. She could still taste that rage. It burned on her tongue. Part of it was Ava's rage; part of it was Gaia's. But it looked like Gaia no longer hated Lucas. For the first time in months, she and Lucas had been able to touch without sparking fire. They'd been reveling in that fact an hour ago, holding each other's hands tight, when Owen had arrived with his guest—the girl now trapped in his headlock.

They had both beamed at Ava—Owen's smile wide and affectionate, the girl's shy and hopeful. The hope had caused Ava's heart to stutter. She was the source of that hope. The Alpha. She had wanted to laugh—every bone in her body felt weighted to the ground, and she was the source of someone's hope. Then the girl's smile had disappeared. Taylah had just opened her mouth to welcome the new guest when a tree root had slammed through the kitchen window and wrapped around the older woman's neck. Then—chaos. Nobody had been quite sure who was doing what, or why, but roots and vines and ice daggers had been hurled and slung across the room with the force of a bullet train. After a moment of shock, Owen had jumped on the girl and wrestled her to the ground. He'd spoken frantically to her. She'd snarled back a reply. Amidst the cacophony Ava had heard only one word— _sangstones._

Sangstones. The cursed trophies worn by the Makhai, the militant wing of the Order of Ares. The price to become one of the Makhai was steep. Ares warriors seeking entrance had to kill a member of the Gaia. The knife used to strike the killing blow was melted down, hardened into fragments of metal, and then implanted into the wrists, ankles, neck, and heart of the new Makhai warrior. What had once been a murderous honor had been perverted into bondage. The Makhai, led by Lucas's father, had forced the youngest, most promising Ares members to bear the sangstones as a way to control and manipulate them. The Ares were naturally adept at commanding metal. They could inflict pain, or worse, on those who strayed from their instructions. Ava had heard Lucas's cries of agony as Makhai assassins had manipulated his sangstones, dragging the metal through his flesh. They hadn't just wanted to kill Lucas, they'd wanted to kill him slowly. Lucas had committed the ultimate betrayal. He'd killed his own father, the leader of the Makhai, to save Ava. He'd chosen the Alpha witch of the Gaia over his own Order.

From their attacker's snarled rebuke it was clear that the sangstones had triggered her. The girl must have sensed the sangstones in Lucas and his mother, Taylah. Both traitors to their Order, they had succeeded in removing the sangstones that bound them to their past—all but the single stones lodged in their hearts. If the girl could feel the sangstones, she had to be a member of one of the orders. Given the sniper-tree-branch move—which _had_ been pretty impressive—she must be a Gaia. But why had Owen brought her here?

Ava examined the woman, girl, really, struggling against Owen's wrestling hold. _How had someone so little caused so much destruction?_ Ava thought. Owen grunted and held on. The girl quieted finally and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Owen repeated the phrase, but he was speaking to Taylah, not to his captive. Lucas's mom glanced around at her home, taking in the dirt, ice, and splintered furniture.

"It's not the first time," she said, with a sigh. "Nor, I'm sure, will it be the last."

_Occupational hazard of being a resistance leader_ , Ava thought. Wordlessly, Lucas moved to pull his mom into a sideways hug.

"You can let me go now," the girl said, her voice muffled by Owen's bicep. "I won't fight anymore, I promise."

"Ava?" Owen asked.

Ava tried not to look surprised. She was the Alpha now, a conduit for the power of Mother Earth Herself. Of course people would start looking to her for leadership.

"Let me go, _please_ ," the girl said again, this time with more fire in her voice.

"Yes, let her go," Ava said quickly, without conviction.

Owen held Ava's gaze, raising his eyebrows. Ava looked down, pretending to shake the ice off her shirt.

When she looked up, Owen was pushing himself into a standing position, reluctantly releasing the newcomer. Ava got a proper look at her. She had long black hair, half of it buzzed, strong brows, and a sleeve of tattoos.

Owen broke the silence, "Again, I'm so sorry, Lucas, Taylah. I warned Marama that you had defected from the Ares. I told her you were no threat to her. But when she sensed the sangstones, she thought I was leading her into a trap."

Even without reading his emotions, Ava knew how bad Owen felt. The Gaia warrior was loath to disappoint.

"I can feel them burning in your hearts; they gloat with violence," the girl, Marama, cut in bitterly.

Lucas looked stricken. As the leader of the Makhai, his father had been responsible for much of the tragedy wrought by the sangstones. He said, "I'm sorry."

"So we're _all_ _sorry_ ," Marama spat.

Owen gave her a warning glance. Ignoring him, Marama turned to Ava. "You're really the Alpha?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" Ava said dryly, projecting a confidence she didn't feel. "Or are you looking for hurricanes? Earthquakes? Rainbows? Maybe a pot of gold as well?"

The girl's face softened. She didn't smile. But she looked less like she wanted to murder them all, which was good, especially because Ava was bluffing. She'd barely be able to turn water into ice at the moment. She'd felt paralyzed when the fighting had erupted, shrinking into herself as people and objects flew past her. She needed to impress the girl, to drive away any doubts. Owen had brought her here, so she must be important, and their little group wasn't exactly flush with allies.

Ava pulled down her shirt to expose the mark Gaia had raked into the skin just above her heart. The scar traced a crude outline of an alliance stone—a symbol of peace between the Ares and Gaia from before the war.

The girl stared at the mark in fascination, creeping towards Ava as if compelled by some invisible force. Her look dared the others to stop her. Owen opened his mouth to speak, but Ava shook her head. When the girl was standing just in front of Ava she reached out a tentative hand and touched the mark. She gasped and drew her hand back as if the flesh were burning hot. Ava's shoulders sagged in relief; it had worked. She'd never wanted to be the Alpha in the first place, so she hadn't exactly planned for how to convince others that she was the most powerful member of the Gaia. And now she realized she was going to have to come up with a better Alpha party trick. It would be far too intimate and time-consuming to have every skeptic caress her collarbone.

Ava half-expected Marama to kneel in fealty before her while she knighted her with a sword, or something ridiculous like that. But instead the girl burst into tears. Serious tears. Sobs wracked her body as she crumpled to the floor and Ava felt anguish flooding out of her. She had clearly been sealing in her emotions, making herself look as strong and sure as possible. Ava could feel the emotions—horror, shame, fear, desperation, guilt. Whatever trauma Marama had endured was fresh.

The girl's emotions slid over Ava, like another layer of ice. Ava fought against the emotional onslaught, struggling to stay in the present, feeling Marama's emotion dragging her back into her own dark memories. Her eyes flickered closed and she was back—back in the black depths of the Pacific Ocean, facing an angry Mother Earth and Her honor guard of great white sharks. Desperation pummeled her chest, as real as it had been then. Guilt overwhelmed her, sucking the air out of her lungs. She heard Lucas's shouts of agony as the Makhai warriors on the beach tortured him through his sangstones, fresh and real and cutting and—

A gentle touch on her shoulder. Taylah, observing her with kind eyes. Taylah understood. It was Taylah who had taken away Ava's pain back on the beach, luring her into sleep after her bloody battle with the Makhai warriors. Maybe the resistance leader could do the same thing for the agonized girl in front of her.

Ava snaked a comforting arm around Marama, pulling her towards the bedroom. Taylah followed. No doubt the perceptive older woman knew what Ava hoped to do.

"My God..." Ava said.

For a fleeting second Ava thought somebody had unleashed a blizzard in the room during the chaos of the fight. Kira, Lucas's younger sister, was curled up in the corner of the bedroom. Atop every free space on Kira's body and around the room were perched hundreds of cockatoos, their white feathers blanketing the space. They'd been chattering soothingly to Lucas's sister. Now two hundred pairs of eyes turned to stare at them.

"Kira," Taylah said. "Love, it's all over. Everyone's safe."

One cockatoo, sporting a regal yellow crest, chattered angrily in the direction of Marama.

"Kira," Taylah said again. "Call off your birds. They're making our guest uncomfortable." When Kira didn't look up, Taylah turned to the bird, saying, "Enough, Juan, we get it. You're _very_ brave. Take Kira outside to play. And maybe this time don't antagonize Gus."

There was silence. Then, with an angry chattering and a shake of feathers, the horde of cockatoos decamped through a shattered window in the bedroom. It took a moment for them to cram through the small space, and in the chaos, Ava felt claws tear into her hand. They were meant for Marama. Ava swore angrily and threw an arm up to block any more covert attacks.

Kira uncurled herself and pushed past her mother, but not before casting a baleful look at Marama. Marama took the abuse, sagging further into Ava's arms. Ava guided her into the bed. She lay there, quiet sobs wracking her body. Taylah hurried to her side, placing a hand on her forehead, and the girl's eyes fluttered closed. She was safe from her horror, at least for a little while.

"You're going to have to teach me that one," Ava said.

"Sure, if you promise to teach me how to outswim a great white," Taylah said.

Ava grinned. "Fair trade. A little sleep magic for a little shark magic."

Taylah smiled in reply and grasped Ava's forearm affectionately as they walked back to the living room.

There they found Owen hard at work cleaning up the remnants of the scuffle—dirt, stray leaves, and metal shrapnel. Lucas had corralled the metal spider into a corner of the kitchen. He placed a hand on the spider's body. The creature tried to wiggle away but Lucas's grip was firm. With a wrenching shriek, the spider's eight legs fused into four and its abdomen flattened back into a tabletop.

"The table was square before, wasn't it?" Lucas asked his mom.

"Yes, but I like the circle," Taylah said. "Always good to have a change in scenery."

"I can take care of those," Owen said, gesturing at the broken windows. "I'm good with glass."

Ava shivered, remembering how Owen had turned sand into shards of glass when fighting against the Makhai.

"If the girl is who I think she is..." Taylah trailed off. She shrugged, as if to suggest the destruction of her house was an easy trade for the girl's presence.

Lucas turned towards Owen, eyes bright with excitement.

_Not this again_ , Ava thought. She hated feeling like she was the last person in the room to know something important.

"Is she one of the others?" Ava asked. "A target of the Makhai's second wave of attacks?"

Before his death, Lucas's father had devised a plan to cripple the newest generation of Gaia warriors before they ever grew old enough to pose a threat. Although the Gaia and Ares were now locked in a deadly war, for centuries they had been allies. Both orders kept a secret from their youngest members—there remained an innate attraction between the Ares and the Gaia. That attraction was especially potent for the teenage members of the orders. Knowing this, Lucas's father had sent a team of young Ares to seduce their Gaia counterparts across the world.

There had been a small, covert first wave where Ares warriors had extracted information from their targets, information on the whereabouts and vulnerabilities of other Gaia teens. Ava had lost her best friend, Isi, to the first wave. The Makhai had planned a second wave, when all of the newest Gaia targets were supposed to be killed on the same night. Thirty-five Gaia targets, thirty-five Ares killers. But the teens had all vanished on that fateful night, including Ava and Lucas. Now there were sixty-eight teens still missing.

Owen nodded. "Yes, she's one of the others."

"You found one—" Taylah said.

"So my father's plan backfired—" Lucas said at the same time.

Owen's face turned ashen. "But I think I messed up."

"We'll get this cleaned up," Ava replied easily, glancing around at the kitchen. Lucas's table still looked distinctly spider-like.

"No...it's Marama," Owen said. "I'd just barely gotten her to trust me...she'd been through so much...and then I forgot to warn her about the sangstones. Of course they would be a trigger for her, after everything she's seen."

"What happened to her, Owen?" Taylah asked gently. "Who is she?"

"Marama Jones. She's a Gaia warrior from a Māori community in New Zealand. Just started her freshman year at college in Auckland."

Owen's hands trembled as he swept at the dirt embedded in the carpet. It was unnerving to see the stolid warrior so shaken. Something clicked in Ava's brain. "You lived it with her, didn't you? The night of the second wave of attacks?"

Owen nodded. "Not that night. But another one. She tried to tell me, but...it was too hard for her. She was insistent that I know the details so I offered to perform a linea and re-live the memory with her."

Ava inhaled sharply. It took a lot of skill and energy, but some Gaia warriors could create a connection, a linea, which allowed them to experience and share the memories of others.

Owen mumbled, "I wish I hadn't."

"You saw him then?" Lucas asked eagerly. "The Ares teen they sent to entrap Marama? Who was it?"

Owen's shoulders sagged. Still mumbling, he continued, "Not him, _her_. Erin. Erin Davidson. The Ares arranged for her to be Marama's physics tutor."

Lucas started prowling around the room. "Why are you saying it like that? Why is he saying it like that?" Lucas asked, turning to his mom.

"Erin's dead, Lucas," Owen said. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, no. Erin was so strong. So clever. The cleverest of us all. Did _she_ do it?" he said, gesturing at the bedroom. There was violence in his tone. Taylah put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"No...the opposite actually," Owen replied, his tone rising in response to Lucas's accusation. Apparently neither had yet shaken old loyalties.

"What does that mean?" Lucas asked. "The _Ares_ killed her?"

Owen nodded.

"Using her sangstones?" Lucas said.

Owen nodded again.

"Then that decides it," Lucas said. "We have to go right now. All the other teens, sixty-six by my count...thirty-three Ares...they're sitting ducks with the sangstones implanted in their bodies."

"But how would we find them?" Ava asked. "If they're smart, and they still haven't been caught, then they're hunkered down. We're assuming they're in pairs, right? One Ares warrior with one Gaia target? So they'll be mobile. They'll be invisible."

"It took all of my contacts and a lucky break for Owen to find Marama," Taylah said, trying to meet her son's gaze. "And she was the only lead we turned up after working around the clock."

"It could take months...years for us to find them," Ava said. "And I'm not sure we have that much time at our disposal."

"What does that mean?" Taylah asked sharply, turning from Lucas to Ava.

"Since I've woken up, I'm remembering snatches of my fever dreams from the past few days," Ava said. "The same images, over and over. And I can't seem to focus anymore. I keep drifting off and thinking about _fire_."

" _Fire_?" Taylah repeated.

Ava continued, "Lava. Craters. Volcanoes. I see them. All over the world. Places I've never been."

"You don't think..." Taylah said.

Ava nodded. "I _do_ think. I think She, Gaia, is preparing to trigger volcanic eruptions," she said. "Huge eruptions. Mount Pinatubo huge. To cool herself down."

"My God," Taylah whispered. Owen and Lucas looked stricken. The Earth rumbled ominously, shaking the little house.

"Is that Her now?" Lucas asked, studying the ground.

Ava nodded. She cursed under her breath and stomped her foot on the floor like a surly tot. Gaia would not control who she spoke to.

"When?" Taylah asked. The circular metal table behind the resistance leader shivered. Spider legs twisted out of its base and it began to creep along the floor, half-table, half-spider.

"Mom," Lucas hissed, gesturing at the spider-table.

"Right, sorry," Taylah said. "Force of habit."

"Trust me, you do not want to antagonize Gaia," Lucas said.

"Point taken. _When_ , Ava?" Taylah repeated.

"I'm not sure," Ava said. "Soon."

"So many would be killed," Owen said. "People...animals."

"I know. But...She's so hot," Ava said. Her skin flushed and sweat pooled at her temples. Groaning, she knelt on the floor.

"Enough!" Lucas shouted, stomping at the ground.

"Gaia is showing us how hot She is," Owen said.

"By using Ava as a human doll?" Lucas spat.

"It's ok. It's a good reminder," Ava said, pushing herself off the ground. "The heat, it's overwhelming. She needs to shake the yoke of humanity off her back for a little while...to rebalance."

"The best way to save Gaia would be to broker a peace between the orders," Lucas said stubbornly. "And peace depends on finding the other young warriors who disappeared the night of the second wave."

Ignoring Lucas, Owen said, "Do you think you could reason with Her? If you had more control of your powers?"

Ava looked doubtful. "I could try—"

"The alliance stone," Lucas interrupted. "We could use the alliance stone to draw out the sixty-six. What better use than this? To protect the young people of both orders who have taken the first steps towards peace? Who've risked their lives to protect one another?"

"We can't, Lucas," Ava said. "It's too dangerous. We still don't even know how it works."

"We could learn," Lucas said. "We could figure it out! We're all here together—it's the perfect setting to experiment."

Lucas looked between Ava and Owen. Reading the opposition on their faces, he spun on his heel and walked out the door.

Ava started to follow but Taylah put a hand on her arm. "Let him go," Taylah said. "He'll see the truth of your words soon enough. Plus, it may be kinder if he doesn't have to hear all the details of Owen's report." Taylah sighed, moving towards the kitchen. "If there's one thing I've learned in the long slog of resistance, it's that you should never hear bad news on an empty stomach."

Chapter 2

Ava and Owen tried to protest, but Taylah insisted on sitting down to a warm meal. Owen, in turn, insisted on cooking the warm meal.

They ate in silence. Every now and then somebody would strike up a tenuous spark of conversation only to see it sputter and die.

Finally, Ava and Taylah cleared the plates and settled into the comfortable chairs in the living room, waiting for Owen to join them.

Watching Owen wipe down the table, hard enough to make wood shavings fly, Ava sighed internally. Stoic Owen, he was always the bearer of bad news. It had fallen on him to tell Ava her best friend in the Order, Isi, had been killed. He'd had to share with her the memory of the Ares' terrible assault on the Gaia youngsters going through the Ritual of Fire in Hawai'i. And now he was going to tell them what had caused Marama to break down into uncontrollable sobs.

"Owen," Ava called to her friend. "I think the table's clean."

Owen looked up, blinking. "Right, of course."

"Thank you, Owen," Taylah said, her voice gentle. "Will you tell us what you saw in the linea? With as much detail as possible—the smallest thing might be important."

Owen nodded. After a long pause, he said, his jaw clenched, "The Makhai were right about one thing. The attraction between the two orders seems just as potent now as it was in the past."

Ava blushed—she and Lucas were living proof of the fact. But apparently it wasn't just them.

"Marama wanted, _needed_ , me to understand the force of her connection with Erin. She said the two of them used to joke that Romeo and Juliet had nothing on them. They were the real star-crossed lovers, pulled inexorably towards one another...but also trained from birth to kill each other."

" _Star Crossed_ ," Taylah said, nodding. "That's what they are, all those Gaia and Ares hiding out across the globe, at war with their orders, at war with the world. Let's make sure they fare better than Romeo and Juliet..."

Owen held up a hand, quieting Taylah and nodding in the direction of the bedroom.

"What kind of details are you looking for?" Marama asked Taylah, emerging from the bedroom. Her eyes were red-rimmed but steely.

The older woman frowned in surprise. After a moment she replied, " _Anything_. The smallest thing might be useful. We thought it might be too painful a story to tell—"

"I'll tell it," Marama said, her voice hard.

Owen offered her a glass of water but she waved it away.

Marama began, "I was assigned a physics tutor a month into my first semester at university. I was surprised, because I'd been doing well in physics, but my professor, an Ares lackey, assured me it was standard practice to assign older students to mentor freshmen. The mentor was Erin. We were... _inseparable_. In weeks we were dating. The physics tutor ploy was perfect—it caught me completely off guard. It was months before I suspected Erin might be an Ares plant."

Something fluttered onto Ava's shoulder. She turned to find one of Kira's cockatoo companions. The bird chattered softly into her ear and Ava's heartbeat slowed to match the chattering. Another bird landed on Taylah.

"I discovered Erin's true identity while we were goofing around in the campus lab," Marama continued. "I felt totally blindsided and betrayed, and I freaked out—I had no idea how powerful I was until that fight. Erin was making chemicals explode, forcing clouds of poisonous gas in my direction. But I don't think her heart was really in it. Eventually I trapped her in a block of ice and she just deflated. She told me everything.

"Erin was crazy smart. She knew the Ares would kill her if she didn't go through with killing me. And she knew we could never escape the Ares forces for long if we decided to go rogue. A deadly catch-22. She decided the best option was to fake my death and report back that she had succeeded in her mission. We had the fake death planned in exhaustive detail—a fight near the ocean, the killing blow, and then the ocean snatching me away, which would explain why there was no body. We had my blood on Erin's knife and a grieving family. It was perfect. As perfect as two college students could manage on short notice.

"What we didn't plan for—and what probably saved us—was the utter confusion on the night of the second wave of attacks—"

Owen cut in, "The same night Lucas killed his father, and we were able to beat back the assault against our youngsters in Hawai'i, killing many Ares in the process. It must've been pandemonium."

Marama nodded. "Erin said it was a nightmare. After I faked my own death I lived underground, moving every couple of days to a new hideout I'd burrow. Dirt—that's my real home. I'm kind of half-mole, half-human..." Marama trailed off, a faraway look in her eyes.

Ava smiled encouragingly at her.

"While I was on the run, Erin volunteered to lead the search party for the Makhai teens who'd gone AWOL," Marama said. "She tried to soak up as much intelligence as she could and stay one step ahead of anyone who might find out about me."

Taylah's forehead creased at the word "intelligence." The cockatoo on her shoulder started wiggling anxiously, fluttering its feathers and stutter stepping back and forth. At least Ava wasn't the only one having her emotions broadcasted to the world by the animal kingdom. Taylah must have been salivating for real, corroborated news from her old Order, after years of chasing rumors and half-baked leads.

When Marama didn't continue Owen jumped in, "When Lucas killed his father he created a power vacuum in the Order. As you know...Max...er...your..."

"My husband. You can say it," Taylah said.

"Right," Owen said. "Your husband had been the leader of the Makhai, and because the Ares Elders were too afraid to challenge him, they had let him act as the de facto leader of the Ares."

" _Cowards_ ," Taylah hissed.

Owen continued, "One of Max's protégées, Roger, is vying for control. He's young but charismatic. He's consolidating power by preying on the Ares' fears about the emergence of a new Alpha. He's arguing that the new threat has changed the rules of engagement. That Ares warriors must not be hemmed in by ancient rules. That human life can be taken as collateral damage in the war against the Gaia."

Taylah's face didn't change but the cockatoo on her shoulder clucked in surprise, flapping its wings as if to ward off a predator. Taylah said, "But that would be the end of the Ares. That is their founding, at this point, their only principle—the sanctity of human life."

Ava's cockatoo blinked skeptically. She remembered how the Makhai warriors had engulfed the Presidio in flames when they were corralling her towards the Golden Gate Bridge. They hadn't seemed so worried about human life then.

"Lucas has told us this before," Owen said. "The Elders have turned a blind eye to the violence of the Makhai because it's effective. But there are rumors of internal strife, some Elders sounding the same alarm as you, Taylah, that the Ares will destroy themselves if they're allowed to take human lives as collateral damage."

"Of course, that little stunt I pulled on the beach last week will be exactly what this Roger character needs to rise to power," Ava said.

There was momentary silence. It was true; Ava's ascendancy was tailor-made for the Makhai propaganda machine.

"It is unfortunate timing, no doubt," Taylah said. "But half of the missing teens are members of the Ares. Their families will be desperate for their return. It may give us some leverage for easing hostilities between the orders."

"So Lucas is right, we need to find the missing sixty-six, the Star Crossed," Ava said. _But how?_ She hadn't told Taylah but she was still terrified of the alliance stone. The last time she'd touched it, the necklace had launched her and Lucas hundreds of feet into the sky on a jet of boiling water.

"He could be," Taylah replied, her tone studiously neutral. There was something she wasn't saying. "Did Erin know anything else?" She looked between Owen and Marama.

Marama shook her head. "Apparently the Order was leaking sensitive information in the chaos of the aftermath of the failed second wave, but those leaks dried up quickly. The Makhai made an example of those who couldn't keep their mouths shut, went after their families."

"A favorite tactic of the Makhai," Taylah said, grimacing. "How did the Ares find you?"

Marama's eyes shone with tears, but she answered, "After a couple of weeks of being on the run, I was...exhausted. I burrowed next to an aquifer and fell asleep. So stupid." She shook her head. "While I was sleeping a chunk of the river above me, which was fed by the aquifer, iced over and stopped flowing. _During the dead of summer in New Zealand_. The Ares have a special team who read the news, combing for just those kinds of anomalies. They dispatched a squad of Makhai to the area....One of them was Erin. She slipped away from her comrades and got to me first."

Ava shook her head at Erin's courage. The minute she'd left the Makhai, it had been a suicide mission. And a painful one, since Erin bore the sangstones.

Silent tears slid down Marama's cheeks. "Erin tried and failed to cut out her sangstones so we wouldn't be so vulnerable to the Makhai pursuing us. But...something went terribly wrong."

Owen and Ava exchanged a look. Lucas had cut out one of his sangstones and nearly killed himself in the process. The stones were placed in such a way that removing them destroyed the Ares' ability to rapidly heal. In removing his sangstone, Lucas had unleashed an uncontainable infection that traveled the length of his body.

"It was horrible. I...I had to watch as Erin suffered. We managed to stay one step ahead of the Makhai, travelling through tunnels I excavated on the fly. As Erin slowed, overcome by pain, creatures scurried from the darkness to help. Moles, rats, possums, even a few domesticated rabbits—they must have snuck out of hutches or homes—constructed airshafts, dragged down bits of food, and hollowed out pockets for us to rest." She paused, wiping at her tears. "But the Makhai were relentless and Erin was getting weaker and weaker. I burrowed a final cave for us to hunker down in and make a stand."

Ava's heart ached for Marama. She and Owen had also been forced into a desperate last stand when the Makhai had ambushed them on the beach along the Great Ocean Road. Ava was thankful that Lucas had stormed out—this story was a little too close to home.

Owen reached out a comforting arm to Marama. "If you can't finish, I can tell them. I've seen the linea."

" _No_ ," Marama said forcefully. "I owe it to Erin." Voice stronger, she continued, "The creatures came again, bringing reinforcements. When they saw Erin struggling to breathe, the little army dug out a ring of airshafts to the surface. And then they took rags with traces of Erin's blood and dispersed into the soil, spreading the scent for miles in all directions.

"She could barely breathe, but Erin told me as much as she could of the Ares' plans...Erin knew what was coming and didn't want to go down without striking a final blow at the Makhai." Marama's voice cracked.

Nobody spoke. Ava wanted to reach out a hand to Marama, to do anything that would ease her agony, but she didn't think the warrior would appreciate it.

"The Makhai found us," Marama continued. "They came without warning. One minute Erin was resting in the dugout, breathing fitfully, but still breathing, and then the next, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. The Makhai had locked onto her sangstones. She whimpered, just once, and then must have realized any sound would give us away. She clamped her hands over her mouth, pulling off her belt to bite down on." Marama clenched her fists. "I lost it. I forced water up through the ground, shooting ice harpoons at the Makhai. But it wasn't enough. Erin cried out and the world went quiet for a moment. There was a terrible hiss and then steam poured through the airshafts into the dugout. Molten metal flooded through the tunnels, flushing out our army of mammals. I grabbed Erin around the waist and tried to scramble deeper into the ground to escape being burned alive but..."

Marama stopped. Ava's cockatoo companion abandoned her shoulder for Marama's. The bird pecked lightly at Marama's scalp.

"Erin was wearing metal cuffs on both her wrists. She grabbed my hands and the cuffs kind of just melted off her arms and liquid metal slid up my wrists, forming into bindings. I struggled...but I wasn't fast enough, Erin had a ceremonial knife hidden in her boot. She took it out...and stabbed it into her own heart. _Her own heart_. All to save me from those Makhai bastards." Marama broke down into sobs.

"My God," Ava whispered.

With a rustle of wings, a group of cockatoos flew into the room and landed on Marama, cooing softly to her. They had obviously forgiven her for earlier. She relaxed into the animal embrace, her sobs slowing. Finally Marama asked Taylah, "Can you...can you make me sleep again?"

"Of course," the resistance leader said, leading the teen back into the bedroom.

Taylah returned several minutes later, looking drained. "That poor child."

Owen shook his head, as if trying to dislodge the memory. "After all that," he said, "after she watched Erin die violently in front of her, I brought her here for her second ambush."

"She's safe," Taylah said. "And free from the pain, at least for a little while. I've given her a dreamless sleep."

Ava was feeling unbalanced by the mess of emotions roiling through her. But one rose to the top at Taylah's words—jealousy. She was jealous of Marama's dreamless escape. Owen's story had surfaced so many unpleasant memories—they clung to her like tired children, begging for attention.

"Lucas," she said vaguely. "I should...I should find him."

Taylah nodded. Owen looked away, almost knocking heads with the cockatoo on his shoulder, who squeaked in indignation.

* * *

Ava's instinct had been right. She felt much better outside, probably because she immediately stumbled upon Kira and her feathery entourage playing tag with Gus, a wiry Australian Shepherd. A cockatoo would swoop down close to the dog's earthbound form, and then rapidly ascend as the dog lunged towards it. Ava was swallowed into the game when the dog head-butted her shins and sprinted away, tongue lolling out joyfully—finally someone even less agile and more gravity-bound. It was not a fair fight, hundreds of birds against one dog, and Ava wanted to turn the tables a bit. She concentrated, and exhaled slowly. A dust devil spun into existence and she waved it towards the birds. They angled away from the threat—a frosted cupcake spinning in the sky—right into the waiting paws of the dog. There was a shriek of protest from the flock, like schoolchildren scolding a cheater discovered amongst their fold. Ava laughed and shrugged, backing away from the fun. Gus barked, encouraging her to stay and play. _I wish_ , she thought.

Ava shivered as something brushed through her hair, another cockatoo. It was the one with the yellow crown, Juan, the apparent leader of the flock. She looked over her shoulder to find Kira staring at her.

"He'll take you to Lucas," Kira said.

Taylah's daughter seemed just as adept at reading minds as her mother.

Ava nodded her thanks and followed the bird.

"Will you show me how to do that thing? With the wind?" Kira called after her. "When you come back?"

Ava turned once more, smiling at the little girl. "Of course. Although you might have to show me a few things of your own."

Kira giggled. "No way. You're the Alpha."

"Even more reason for me to have some new tricks."

The girl beamed at the implicit compliment and shook her head in vigorous assent.

The cockatoo squawked impatiently and Ava hurried to keep up, waving goodbye to Kira over her shoulder. She wondered how the girl could handle so many companions and then realized with a pang they must be her only source of friendship. Hers was a life of transience and insulation—a necessity to protect her from the deadly grasp of the Makhai. Maybe Ava should make some cockatoo friends of her own for her life on the run.

In all directions Ava saw only gently rolling hills and gum trees. The landscape had a matte quality about it, a pleasant change from the Technicolor brightness of the coast and the shiny chaos of the city. As the sun set, a red glow smudged into the browns and greens of the landscape. The cockatoo nipped at her shoulder; apparently she'd missed a turn while focused on the sky.

She put her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, you have my full attention."

She followed the bird down a dirt path into what looked like an old quarry, now filled with water. There, she saw Lucas floating on his back, hands behind his head, face cast in the red glow of the falling sun. Ochre cliff faces stood sentinel on either side of him. Insects buzzed in lazy spirals. The breeze snaked through the trees carrying with it the honeyed scent of eucalyptus. Ava breathed deeply, sinking into the calm of the scene like she was relaxing into a bath.

A cry rang out through the quarry, the cockatoo informing Lucas that Ava had arrived.

"You're a patient one, aren't you?" she murmured huffily to the bird, who just winked at her and disembarked with an elegant sweep of his wings. _I need to learn how to make an exit like that,_ Ava thought.

Lucas cracked an eye open. "Join me," he said.

His tone was welcoming, maybe too welcoming. She searched for a hint that he was still angry about their earlier exchange.

"I don't think so."

"Come on," he wheedled.

"I'd join you if there were a rope swing I could use."

"I know what you're doing.

"What?" Ava said, in a "who, me?" voice.

"You want me to practice my Gaia powers."

"And why would I want that?" Ava drawled.

"Because you think it's _sex-ay._ And you want to hold me...and you want to squeeze me...and you—"

Ava interrupted Lucas's teasing, saying, "Fine, I'll make my own rope swing."

She was distracted by a bubbling sound. Near the center of the pond, water churned. A thick, old rope crusted in green and gray pushed itself out of the water. He was cheating, that was an Ares move not a Gaia one. The rope rushed at her, causing her heart to sputter, and then slithered onto the land. It reared up, waiting for something. The tree Ava was standing next to leaned over, trunk creaking, inspecting the strange creature that had emerged from the water. Apparently approving of the object, it shimmied and twisted, positioning one of its branches so that it extended out towards the very edge of the bank. The rope darted over to coil itself around the tree trunk and then shimmied its way up and out, looping around the branch and finally unfolding itself so it was hanging just next to the water.

"Ta-da," Lucas called with a splash.

"An alliance swing—forged from your Ares and Gaia skills. Are you trying to tell me something?"

"Only that I've made an excellent rope swing. One that will last for decades and bring much joy to the surrounding communities. Dare I say, it might even make neighbors put aside their differences and come together for a thrilling spin through the air?"

"Or maybe it'll be such a powerful draw that it'll attract too many people to the area—the wrong kind of people. And your mother's safe house will no longer be all that safe."

"It would be _safe_ if...you know what, forget it. Just try the swing. You'll see."

The tree twisted further, positioning its lower branches so they created a leaf screen for Ava to change behind.

She stripped down to her underwear, grabbed the rope swing—still half afraid it might bite her—and swung over the pond. When the rope hit its highest point on the arc, she flung herself off and over the water, mimicking the cockatoo's exit with arms outstretched and head high. _Hadn't her grandmother's journal said the last Alpha could fly?_ And fly she did, for about a second, before belly-flopping into the water below.

Lucas clapped. "That was quite the entrance."

"I learned from the best," Ava said, eyes scanning skyward to see if her bird friend had caught the entrance.

"So is this going to be our thing? This little spat over the alliance stone? 'Cause I'd like to part on a better note."

_Part?_ Ava wanted to ask what he meant but she already knew. Taylah's hesitance earlier in the day, when Ava suggested Lucas had been right about the necessity of finding the AWOL teens, had confirmed it. It _was_ a necessity, but it wasn't Ava's necessity. She needed to return to the Gaia, to learn how to take on the mantle of the Alpha.

"I could go with you..." she said. "To find the sixty-six, the 'Star Crossed' as we've been calling them. It'd be better to have a Gaia member as well..."

"There's no time," Lucas said. She could feel his sorrow; it came in gentle ripples from his floating form. He exhaled and the water twisted into a miniature volcano, gushing jets of water. Ava tried not to imagine the life-sized version of the scene.

His sadness galvanized her. She glided over to him. "Is there time for this?" she whispered, leaning in to kiss him.

She relished the surprise in his eyes, then saw the panic beneath it. Jerking out of her path, she disappeared beneath the water's surface. Her hair floated up like a flag of surrender. Was this the end? Embarrassment raised a patchwork of hives across her stomach. She wondered how long she could stay underwater when strong hands gripped her arms and pulled her to the surface.

She tried not to meet Lucas's gaze but he wouldn't look away.

"Sorry about that." He shrugged. "Force of habit. After the whole mysterious curse of fire thing. Although it seems like we're safe now." He tugged her closer.

They both looked at where their skin made contact, checking for the telltale burst of sparks or jet of smoke. On that front, at least, they were safe. So Gaia no longer hated her boyfriend. Although, it looked like he might not be her boyfriend for much longer.

She nodded. "It's not just that...is it?"

"No. I don't think so."

"What, then?"

"I'm not sure, exactly."

"Are you upset about the necklace?"

"I am. But that's not what this is about. I know I still want to do _this_ ," he said, pulling her into a tight hug. "And I know that I'd like to do more. But when I let myself think about it, all I see are the faces of the Star Crossed teens...Erin, my mom, Kira...that stupidly handsome mug of Captain Planet."

Ava let out something between a sob and laugh. "I knew it. Owen stole you away from me."

"As I recall, it was Owen who stole _you_ away from _me_."

Ava didn't say anything back. In truth, Lucas had put his finger on exactly what she'd been feeling the last couple of days. The kiss had been a wild last attempt to deny the inevitable. Something had changed between them. And the next months, or years, or lifetime would bring even more change. She'd known it since the very first day she'd seen him, the new kid swaggering down the halls of Roosevelt High. They'd been lucky to steal the months they'd had together. But now she had to return to her people, her family. And Lucas had to finish what his mother had started all those years ago. Maybe more importantly, he had to spend time with Taylah and Kira after their long years of separation.

She jutted her chin into Lucas's bare shoulder, staking her claim. This was her place, at least for a little while longer. He pulled her even tighter. Ava's senses narrowed to cold water and warm skin. Lucas's heartbeat, strong once more after the ordeal on the beach, sped up.

The water churned around them, skittering foam across their shoulders like invisible hot tub jets. It seemed to be goading them on, a welcome change from the inescapable fire that had snuffed out any physical affection between them the last several months. Mother Earth was a fickle lady. Ava shivered as a tentacle of water wound up her neck and then disappeared back into the pond with a single splash.

Lucas leaned into her, breath warm on her shoulder.

"What was that?" Lucas asked. "Did you just bite my ear lobe?"

Ava grinned. "For old time's sake.

"You know what, I changed my mind." He kissed her, long and hard—the water leaping and splashing at their touch. It was a goodbye of sorts. Of course, they'd get a more formal one whenever their little group split, but this was the one that would matter. This is the one Ava would hold onto in the months ahead.

She sensed surprise pulsing from somewhere in front of her. _Not again_. She pulled up from the kiss and realized the emotion was fainter this time, further away. Lucas looked at her quizzically while she scanned the opposite bank. There—a white feather poking out from a bush. Kira wasn't far.

"I think we have an audience," Ava said.

Lucas grinned. "Shall we invite them to join us in the water?"

"Oh, yes," Ava replied, eyes sparkling.

They turned away from one another in unison, sweeping their arms across the water's surface in a wide arc, like little kids playing the splash game. But the volume of liquid they displaced continued growing and speeding across the pond until it was a wall of water bearing down on the opposite bank. There was a muffled squawk and a bird ascended from the bush. A moment later, hundreds of cockatoos followed suit. There was a surprised giggle and then Kira was leaping back and away from the curving reach of the wave. She was either on her way to being the next Olympic high jumper or she'd managed to call the wind in a hurry, because she leapt at least ten feet in the air, black hair flying up like a kite.

"How did they fit so many birds into that bush?" Ava asked.

"Magic," Lucas said, with a smile that made Ava's heart stutter. He was finally getting to play with his baby sis.

As Kira flew into the air, untethered by gravity, thick arms of water stretched out of the wave and caught her gently. She whooped joyfully as the wave snapped back and dissolved into the pond, plopping her into its depths.

When the little girl didn't rise for a few moments, Lucas paddled towards her, his smile tightening.

A green figure emerged behind Lucas as he swam, shouting, "Boo!"

The nighttime's somber hues had chased away the red glow of the sunset and it took a moment for Ava to decipher what she was seeing. Kira had wound herself in thick cords of seaweed and patches of algae. She was a yarn doll come to life in vivid, textured greens.

Lucas was already laughing and splashing with his sister, unfazed by her disguise. But Ava was shaken. Although she was standing waist deep in pond water she felt like she was immersed in the darkest depths of the ocean, pulled under by memory. She saw a tangle of seaweed, whipping and lashing frantically, shaping into the vaguely human form Gaia preferred. She remembered Her voice, encompassing a thousand joys and a thousand sorrows of the natural world. And then there'd been the test, Gaia bloodying Ava's chest and abandoning her to face the circling army of great whites. Ava had been interrupted before she'd finished the test, but it seemed like she must have won Gaia's approval, given that she and Lucas could now touch. But what more did Gaia want from her? Had She used Kira to taunt her? It seemed far too much of a coincidence that the young girl had dressed as the Earth Mother's most recent incarnation. But to what end? And would She really manipulate a twelve-year-old?

Unfortunately, if Ava was right about Gaia's new fixation on volcanoes, the Earth Mother was willing to sink to a whole new low. Gaia had once shared the Ares' reverence for human life, but that reverence had not been returned, and now She was like the enraged mama grizzly protecting Her young at any cost.

Ava looked up to see she was alone in the water. She shivered, catching a flash of arm disappearing into the treed bank where Lucas had constructed the rope swing. Moving in that direction, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms to warm up. _Warm up?_ She was cold! She was cold! The heat consuming her the last several weeks had finally subsided. Was this another consequence of Gaia's test? She could add it to the list of questions for her grandmother. For now, she wanted nothing more than dry clothes and a warm shower.

She hurried over to the tree but found only dirt where she thought she'd shed her clothes. She remembered the flash of arm disappearing into the trees, a giggle echoing after it. Of course, Lucas and Kira had stolen her clothes. Ava's life had devolved from murderous confrontation to summer camp inanity in seventy-two hours. That had to be some kind of record.

After Ava had made several fruitless circles of the trunk, the tree's leaves rustled in clear imitation of a giggle. With a rumble and creak, a root rose out of the ground, unfurling to drop the missing clothing at Ava's feet.

"Really? You?" she said to the tree, shaking dirt out of her top.

As she walked away she wondered if the tree had hidden her clothes of its own volition or if Lucas and Kira were behind the prank. Even the trees were tricksters in Australia. The thought tickled her and she couldn't help but smile despite the mud now running down her legs. Warm light glowed from Taylah's newly mended windows and Ava hurried her pace. Maybe she could convince Lucas's mom to do that Jedi sleep trick on her again.

She found Taylah reading on the couch, Gus splayed out next to her. Taylah looked up from her book.

"How's our guest?" Ava asked, nodding at the bedroom.

"Still sleeping. I don't think she'll wake for a long time. She needs a break from her memories."

"Let me know if there's anything I can do."

"Oh there will be," Taylah said vaguely.

Ignoring the cryptic remark, Ava reached over to pet Gus. "Where is everyone?"

"Plotting."

Ava raised an eyebrow.

"The latest update from my furry friend"—Taylah glanced down at the dog—"indicates that Lucas and Kira are trying to figure out how to storm Owen's fort. He has erected a nest in that big oak south of the pond."

Taylah tugged at the dog's ears in her excitement. The dog looked up, chiding the older woman. Taylah clearly relished seeing her kids play together after a decade of being apart. Ava could empathize—she so rarely got to see her loved ones letting loose. She was tempted to turn around and join in the fun outside, but she had a hunch Taylah had been hoping to catch her alone. More than that, it seemed the others might have been _encouraged_ to stay out of the house so the two women would have a moment to themselves. It was pretty innocuous, as ambushes went.

Taylah continued, "I would've stayed to watch the fun, but I can't see as well in the dark."

"So you don't..."

"Have any Gaia powers?" Taylah massaged her forehead. "I do. But they're...difficult to access. You know that feeling you get when you have to sneeze? That infernal itching in your nose? Sometimes you block it 'cause you're in a roomful of people or on an airplane. And then, you can't actually make yourself sneeze later."

Ava nodded. She'd gotten a cold one time, when she was in second grade—she was pretty sure it was some kind of superbug her mom had given her so she'd have more empathy for her human friends. Before that, she'd had the awful tendency to laugh when her peers were sick, having no idea what it felt like to be sick herself. Snot seemed like a truly hysterical thing to be flowing from a nose.

"I'd get little bursts of Gaia power while I was married to Lucas's father. It felt like I needed to sneeze. But if I sneezed, I'd put my life and my kids' lives in danger. So I got _really_ good at stifling those impulses. And now...I don't get them very often."

Not knowing what to say, Ava stared at the dog, now stretching languorously in Taylah's lap.

Taylah read the question in her gaze. "Nope. I don't communicate with Gus through any of your Gaia mind tricks...just good old-fashioned French fries. Gus loves 'em."

Ava snorted. She played with a curl, wondering how frank she could be with the older woman. Taylah seemed to like frankness.

"Once I met Kira I saw how strongly the Gaia blood ran in your children. But I thought it might've been from Max...just like how sometimes the most strident homophobes are coming from a place of self-loathing."

That prompted a wry smile from Taylah. "No, it's my family. I've been piecing things together over the last few years, trying to trace the Gaia lineage, figure out if I have any other family members who might've been in the Order."

"Did you find anything?"

"It hasn't been easy. Kira and I have only been back to see my family in Darwin once—it's too much of a risk to head back to familiar places, places the Makhai will be looking for me. For the first couple of years I was too afraid to even come back to Australia. As you've seen, Lucas's father wasn't a fan of betrayal."

The man had been ready to kill his only son in cold blood when he found out about Lucas sparing Ava's life. Ava nodded sympathetically. "Where did you go?"

"Kira was young, a toddler, and being on the run with her was nearly impossible. She was just getting into her terrible twos and her powers had begun to show. Imagine a child who summons thunder when she has a temper tantrum...that's why I left you know..."

Ava had guessed as much. Taylah wouldn't have been able to risk her husband, the leader of the Makhai, discovering his own daughter was a Gaia.

"I tried to bring Lucas. I'd planned for months to find a way to bring them both but..." Taylah trailed off. So strong was Taylah's grief Ava felt the urge to turn away so she could have a moment to mourn in private.

"Anyway, Kira was young and I was heartbroken about Lucas. I could barely plan for the next day, let alone the next week. We were living in DC at the time and I just went north, as fast as I could steal new cars."

_Like mother like son_ , Ava thought.

"We ended up near Montreal and then I just started heading west—as far away from DC as I could get. I was so terrified then, seeing ghosts of the Makhai in the rearview mirror, in the parking lot, the mall, any restaurant we stopped in. You know, after all these years, it's dawned on me that Max might have suspected what I was."

Ava raised her eyebrows.

" _Really_. I know it sounds crazy. But he was a man who lived by data and died by data. He must have known that Indigenous peoples were overrepresented in the ranks of the Gaia. I mean it was no accident the Ares aggressively recruited Indigenous peoples in the 1980s and 1990s.

"They were trying to get to us first. To keep us from ever discovering our Gaia powers. Or maybe...to keep us from discovering something else."

Ava leaned forward in her seat. She had the sense that Taylah had been building to this point. _Is this why she'd chased the others off?_

"The Anishinaabe peoples have lived in the Great Lakes region of Turtle Island, what we call North America, since the time of memory. As I fled across Canada away from my past, away from Max's long shadow, I stumbled onto their traditional territories. That was the car ride from hell. Kira would get fussy if we didn't get outdoors. She needed trees, blue sky, grass against her skin. Needed it as much as she needed food. She'd been screaming so hard I thought she might suffocate herself. I was losing my mind—afraid to stop, afraid even to slow. But Kira couldn't be cooped up any longer. So I pulled off the road into a forested area. We found a little clearing ringed by blackberry bushes and I set Kira down on a blanket and then...then I fell asleep." Taylah paled. "Even now, a decade later, it makes me sick to my stomach. I left my baby girl alone. I'm not sure how long I was out but when I opened my eyes, I found a woman watching Kira. While I was asleep Kira had started playing with the blackberry bushes—calling the blackberries to drop from the branches like snowflakes. She was giggling, catching some in her mouth, and clapping happily. All while this woman was watching."

Taylah shook her head. "That was the closest I ever came to taking an innocent life. All I could think was I'd fallen asleep and I'd exposed my daughter, the only child I had left, to mortal peril. I could see how attentively the woman was watching the blackberries' unnatural flight— _she knew_. And _nobody_ could know. Our lives depended on it." Taylah sipped her tea, hands trembling. "I froze. For what felt like an eternity I debated whether or not to attack this woman. And then she started singing to Kira, quietly, sweetly, and I almost burst into tears. It was then I sensed the power radiating off of her...it's hard to describe...she moved as if she were rooted to the land. Keegitah, that was her name. She had a curtain of black hair and the most mischievous smile. Her boots were beaded with wildflowers and intricate greenery. In certain light it looked like she was growing right out of the ground.

"That day, she began telling a story about a young girl's journey with an otter. I realized the story was for me. Through the story, Keegitah was offering shelter and welcome. You can imagine how paranoid I was, but I'd seen how she treated Kira, and I trusted her. I _so_ badly needed someone to trust. I accepted her offer of safe haven.

"Over many months Keegitah told me the stories of her people, the Anishinaabe. The stories seized me. They were living things, growing inside of me, consuming my waking hours and my sleeping hours, filtering into my dreams. Origin stories. Stories of war and peace, of love and forgiveness. The characters from the stories began to guide me through my despair. I hadn't shared my secrets. The abuse Kira and I had endured. The son I'd left behind. But they were written in Kira's nighttime sobs, my red-rimmed eyes. Keegitah saw them there, my secrets, and she told me the stories I needed to hear. I stayed there, with Keegitah, for months, feeling safe for the first time...for the first time I could remember. As I heard more and more stories, tracing their connections, drawing out their principles, I realized something. Keegitah's people have been communing with Gaia for thousands of years. Of course they know Her by a different name and in a different form. The stories she was telling were a map, a guide, of how to find Gaia and interact with Her. Keegitah had guessed my most precious secret, the Gaia blood running through my veins, and wanted to help me connect with the Earth Mother."

Ava's eyes widened. "Did you?"

Taylah sighed. "I wasn't ready then. But the stories have stayed with me, growing, expanding, supporting me."

"And you think...you think I should listen to the stories? To help me communicate with Gaia? I could try and stop Her plan to trigger the volcanoes!"

"Yes," Taylah said. "But there are many paths forward, and as the Alpha, you will have to decide for yourself which one is best."

"Oh, _I'm_ the Alpha? I totally forgot," Ava said with a forced smile.

Taylah laughed.

"Is Keegitah still there? In Canada?"

Taylah smiled without answering.

"So...is that a yes?"

"If you choose that path, you'll find her."

Laughter flooded in from the windows, interrupting them. Taylah startled at the noise, rousing the Australian Shepherd from her lap, and frowned. She looked down at her watch. "There is something else we must discuss."

"But, your friend, Keegitah—"

Taylah's look silenced her. That look made her wish she could disappear into the night, into the world of carefree laughter.

Taylah moved towards the kitchen. "I'm making tea. You want some." It wasn't a question.

Ava nodded. She watched Taylah putter around the kitchen collecting mugs, honey, and biscuits, hoping the domesticity of the scene would soothe her. But relief didn't come.

"Sugar?" Taylah called.

"No, thank you."

As Ava was turning away from Taylah she gasped. Her head snapped back towards the kitchen. Steam was billowing out of the teakettle. There was a figure in the water vapor. A woman. Gaia? Her grandmother? The face looked agitated. Anxious. Ava strained to see more but the steam had already dissipated. She shivered and whistled for Gus. At first he refused—his loyalty to Taylah, and her French fries, welding him to the other side of the couch. But her Gaia mind tricks won in the end. She snuggled into his soft fur. Had she imagined the face? Or did Gaia have nothing better to do than taunt her?

Taylah returned with a steaming mug of tea and handed it over carefully so Ava could grasp it without spilling. Something about the motion made her ache—it was exactly how her grandmother moved.

Before Taylah could speak, Ava asked hurriedly, "Have you...sensed anything unusual today?"

Ava studied the steam rising from her mug.

"Anything unusual? You mean other than a tree root colliding with my throat?" Taylah smiled wryly. "We're very safe here."

Safety was not something the resistance leader took for granted. _But how could Taylah be so sure?_ Ava wondered.

"Drink up," Taylah said, looking at Ava's mug. "Maybe the chamomile will relax you...You've had a long day."

_Try a long_ _year_ , Ava thought to herself. "There was something we needed to discuss?"

Laughter floated through the open window again.

Taylah turned towards the sound instinctively. It took her a long moment to turn back. "Did you see how Marama responded to you today?"

"Well, she didn't try to strangle me with a tree root, so—"

Taylah interrupted, "You made her feel safe. The little trick with your scar was smart—only after touching it did she trust us enough to let her guard down."

"Ok, so my scar is some kind of symbol? A way to bring people to our cause?"

"Not your scar. _You_. You represent hope for a people that have had so little of it in more than a century. The rumors of a new Alpha are spreading...people want to believe."

Ava frowned. "So I'm like the Obama of the Gaia?"

Taylah didn't smile.

Gus whined sharply. _I know how you feel, bud_ , Ava thought.

"And you want me to be an emissary?" Ava asked.

"Not exactly. It's just that I, _we_ , think you might have to do some things you might not like in coming months." Taylah dropped the "we" like she was playing a winning card in a game of poker.

So they—Lucas, Owen, and Taylah—had all been plotting together behind Ava's back. Plotting how to use Ava, as if she were a tool, a regular old hammer. Ava didn't answer.

"Your tea's getting cold," Taylah said.

"Oh, right." Ava gulped down the mugful of tea, happy to have a break from the conversation.

Taylah continued, "What do you think would happen to the peace movement, _your_ movement, if you were killed or captured?"

"Others, Lucas, Owen, you—you'd keep fighting."

"No. I've been trying to build this for ten years. Ten hard, lean years. Then all of a sudden people are listening to me, they want to help. They're willing to risk their lives to take out the Makhai and pave the way for peace. They've heard rumors about the new Alpha, an Alpha they didn't think would come for hundreds of years. And it's given them _hope_. If you die, the hope dies with you. Worse than that. If you die, people will feel even more helpless because not even the Alpha could save them."

"So what? You have a spell to make me immortal? Impervious to harm?" Ava knew what Taylah was getting at but she refused to accept it.

"No. I wish it was so easy. What we're asking you to do is much harder. Almost impossible. But necessary. We need you to protect yourself, to let others face danger for you."

"No—"

"You must! You must learn how to hide, how to evade, how to escape. You must hone your camouflage skill craft. You are willing to die for your cause—that I see and admire. But harder still will be the strength to let people you love die for you."

Ava tugged a blanket out from beneath Gus and threw it over her head. "Easy! All done—can't beat this camouflage skill craft right here." The warmth of the blanket made Ava's eyelids flutter.

"Trust me. You would not be a coward for hiding, for leaving." Taylah's voice cracked. She had abandoned one child to protect another. She had disappeared from the lives of friends and family like smoke in the wind. For Taylah, leaving had been the courageous move. But she had endured the consequences of her decision every hour of every day for the last decade. "Can you do it?"

Ava hesitated and then nodded, desperate to end the conversation, and suddenly feeling exhausted. How was she so tired already?

"Promise?" Taylah asked, reaching out her hands to grasp Ava's own and looking her straight in the eye.

_No_. "Yes." Ava felt herself drawn towards Taylah as she assented, her shoulders sloping forwards and muscles tightening.

Taylah didn't let go of her hands. Her eyes were sparkling, intense. "We've glorified sacrifice so much, we two orders. It is a soldier's duty. But a general's duty is to her troops, all of her troops." Her words held a power—Taylah's charisma was even more devastating than that of her son. " _Promise you'll learn to sacrifice others before yourself_?" Taylah asked again.

Mesmerized by Taylah's gaze, Ava nodded. "Yes," she said, more emphatically this time. And with the acquiescence came a sudden collapse, as if her body could no longer support the weight of the new responsibility. She yawned and shook her head. "Sorry, I don't know what's come over me."

"That's okay, dear," Taylah said sweetly, so sweetly. "Do you want to go to bed now?" she suggested, eyes still sparkling strangely.

"Shouldn't I wait up for the others to come back?"

"Oh, don't worry about them," Taylah said, now gripping Ava's forearm, steering her into a standing position.

Ava leaned against the older woman. "So did you draw the short straw or something? Or do the oldest people always have to deliver the bad news?"

"Something like that," Taylah said. "Owen and Lucas thought it might be best coming from me.

The older woman guided her to the bedroom where Marama was still sound asleep, pulling her towards the other twin bed.

"They were right," Ava said, slurring her words. What had Taylah put in her tea? She could barely keep her eyes open long enough to make it to the bed. She tried to focus her thoughts. To understand why Taylah would make her sleep without asking her. But the thoughts were like tiny fish darting through a net. Her muscles hung loosely on her frame.

As she put her head on the pillow she reflected that she couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so relaxed.

Chapter 3

Was that a bunny? A ferret? Ava rubbed her eyes. No, an otter. Two otters. They were darting in and out of the trees. It was strange to see otters so far from a source of water. Ava pushed the thought away, rubbing once more at her eyes.

She ducked under branches and scrambled over roots in pursuit of her furry friends. Intent on her chase, Ava almost collided with a woman. The first thing she noticed was her shoes—she had the most beautiful beaded boots. Finally dragging her eyes away from the ornate pattern of beaded wildflowers, Ava noticed the woman's sheet of dark hair. The cut of her bangs made her large eyes look even larger and more piercing. It was Taylah's friend, Keegitah—the one with the stories. She was sure of it.

"Hello, Ava."

Ava tried to respond but she was mesmerized by the woman's gaze. The older woman stepped to the side and Ava smiled in delight.

"Blackberries!"

The woman nodded, plucking a berry and popping it into her mouth. One of the otters had curled itself around the woman's shin.

Ava rushed forward. She tried a berry and gasped at its sweetness. She ate another and another. Holding her juice-stained hands in front of her, Ava laughed. Taylah's friend joined in. They traded smiles and turned back to the bounty of the blackberry bush. Ava couldn't stop; she felt compelled to keep eating berry after berry. She gasped again, this time in horror. Staring down at her hands she saw not juice there but blood, thick and viscous...

Ava jolted out of sleep, roused by a peal of laughter echoing through the night. The others were really enjoying their nighttime games.

The shout came again and Ava realized it was not a playful call. She cursed and jumped out of bed. Or tried to, but her limbs felt like pudding. Her legs buckled pitifully under her weight. She fell back on the covers.

"Juan," screamed a voice. Juan was the ringleader of the cockatoos—the screams had to be coming from Kira. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog clinging to her senses. She cursed again as she remembered—Taylah had spiked her tea with something.

There was a muffled crash and then a howl of primal fear— _Taylah_. _Kira must be in danger_. Ava forced herself forward, driving her limbs as if she were walking through waist-deep snow. She finally made it out of the dark bedroom and found the living room in disarray for the second time that day.

Taylah was struggling against shackles wrought of thick tree roots— _Marama's doing?_ _Or Kira's?_ The roots had burst through the floor next to the older woman. A bleary-eyed Lucas was fumbling towards Taylah while Owen grabbed his gear. Taylah shook her head at her son, and barked, "Leave me! Find Kira!" She pointed towards the door.

Owen and Lucas exchanged a look and sprinted off into the night. Unthinkingly Ava moved to follow, compelled by the force of Taylah's command. But as she reached the door, the resistance leader hissed, "Help me, Ava."

Ava hesitated at the door, thinking about the strangeness of the evening's interaction with Taylah. Had Lucas's mother _really_ spiked her tea?

"Please," Taylah repeated urgently.

Ava turned reluctantly, probing the roots ensnaring Taylah to see what tree they belonged to. The living shackles did not want to release. Ava concentrated, preparing to break the roots' hold, but then stopped. She met the resistance leader's eye. "What's going on?"

"Something has happened to Juan."

Taylah tried to look away, but Ava saw the tears in her eyes. They both knew whatever had befallen Juan was no accident. Someone was attacking them, and Kira was out alone in the night.

Ava called the roots to stand down. They shook and retracted back into the earth. Taylah rubbed her wrists and gave Ava an appreciative nod. "Don't worry. Lucas, Owen, and I will take care of this."

"No, I'll come with you," Ava said. "I can channel my powers..."

Taylah was already striding towards the door. Ava followed. The older woman said, "No, remember what we talked about tonight. It's important that you stay here. Watch over Marama."

Ava ignored her—it would be pointless to argue—but she kept trailing Taylah. Something bumped into her legs and she stumbled, pain running up her shins.

"What? _Taylah_! Call it off!"

The metal spider Taylah had called to life earlier that day was back. It had skittered over to trip Ava and was now rearing up against her lower body, sharp legs wrapping her in a steel embrace. The legs locked in place, trapping her.

She slammed against the metal but it was shifting before her eyes, melting against her skin.

Taylah turned to see Ava cemented to the ground by the now stationary spider.

"You _promised_ ," Taylah said regretfully before disappearing into the night. Her words seemed to hang in the air, resonating with power.

Ava screamed in frustration at the woman's back. She studied the spider frozen to her skin, wondering how it had locked so solidly to the floor.

"Of course," she whispered to herself. The house must have metal woven all through it—the foundation, the walls, the ceilings—veins of steel to be shaped and summoned by Taylah. Before she could puzzle out how to escape she heard metal clicking against wood. Another steel creature skittered across the floor towards her. _Taylah was back_.

The spider holding her in place trembled and one long leg pried itself loose, twitching next to her waist. She sighed in relief.

"Thank God," she muttered towards the doorway, waiting expectantly for the resistance leader's return.

The metal creature moving towards her was much smaller than the spider; this one was shaped like a scorpion. It was moving slowly, carefully, across the terrain, retracing its steps as if... _as if it were_ _scouting_. Ava's blood froze in her veins. "Marama!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, hoping to wake the young Gaia warrior. The Makhai had found them. The scorpion charged her, climbing up her foot and sinking its metal barb of a stinger deep into her ankle. She gasped in pain.

Ava's metal captor trembled again and then sprang to life, lifting a heavy leg to knock the scorpion from Ava's limb and squash it with a thunk under another leg. Free from the spider's embrace, Ava's knees quaked and she collapsed. She stared blankly at the blood seeping down her bare foot. It looked like she'd been painting her nails red and had spilled the whole bottle over herself. She had a perverse desire to run her hands through the blood, to match the image from her dream that night. _The dream had been a warning_.

"Ava, they've come for you," Marama said. She was standing before Ava, no trace of sleep in her eyes, calmly scanning the wreckage of the living room. There was a _real_ soldier. "We have to get you out of here."

"The house, it's a cage..." Ava gasped. "Ribbons of metal running through the whole structure. The Ares could flatten us like bugs."

"Ok, so we go down. Way down," Marama said, gesturing at the ground.

The newcomer had a skill with soil, that's what Owen had said. But Marama's girlfriend had endured a horrible death when they'd tried to use tunnels to escape the Makhai. Ava thought of that molten metal flooding through dark passageways, stealing air and life and scalding everything in its path.

There was a creak and then a rod of metal shot out of the kitchen wall like a javelin, landing in a painting on the far side of the living room.

"Get down!" Ava shouted, dropping flat to the floor.

Marama was already concentrating on the floor, clearly trying to break through to the soil. The young Gaia warrior was lying in the same spot Taylah had been bound by the roots earlier.

"The roots!" Ava called as more steel javelins burst through the walls and shot across the room.

She kicked her foot against the ground, calling frantically for the roots. A massive tree root obliged, erupting out of the ground like an oversized earthworm. Marama cursed loudly, ducking another ribbon of metal.

"They're getting closer. We've got to get undergro—"

Marama screamed. A strip of jagged metal had connected with her side. At the contact, the metal ribbon instantly retracted, dragging Marama across the floor like a fish on a line.

"No!" Ava shouted and a series of roots burst out of the floor to wrap around the metal ribbon. The wooden tentacles constricted, jerking Marama to a stop. The girl pulled the metal free from her side without so much as a gasp.

"They'll heat it next," Marama called, wiggling back towards Ava, leaving a smear of red as she went. Seconds later the metal began to glow red.

"I got ya," Ava said, blowing gently at the metal nearest to her. Frost crackled its way across burning metal, sending dense clouds of steam through the house. Ava appreciated the unexpected cover. "We gotta go now, while they're blind."

At her words the giant root disappeared back into the ground, leaving a cleared tunnel in its wake.

Marama grunted in pain, her pace slowing. She reached the edge of their makeshift tunnel, careful not to catch herself on the splintered wood of the floor.

"We need to widen it. And I've got to figure out the best direction for us to travel. There's a lot of rock in this area—we don't want to get stuck."

Marama pushed herself over the edge, falling headfirst into the darkness.

There was frantic shouting from outside. Only one word was clear—"Alpha." _They'd come for her_.

Marama's head reappeared above the floor, her face grim. "Come on down," she said.

Ava hopped over the edge into a tunnel the size of a tree trunk. In the moment it took her eyes to adjust to the dark, she lost track of the Gaia warrior. "Marama? Which way should we head? I'll follow you."

"Southwest," came a voice. But it was above her, not below as she'd thought. Her pulse fluttered— _why had Marama gone back into the house_?

"Marama?" she called, straining to see. There was no response but something soft landed on Ava's face. She put a hand up to feel— _dirt_. Marama was sealing the hole from above.

"No, no, you can't!" Ava cried, trying to scramble out of the tunnel, but the dirt slid under her fingers, refusing to give her purchase. She froze the unruly dirt into a handhold and pushed her head above the ground for a split second, long enough to see the entirety of the living room, now a burning metal net, flatten in towards Marama's exposed back. Marama turned and thrust Ava back down into the tunnel by her shoulders.

" _Alpha_ , save yourself!" she shouted down after her.

Ava heard a sizzle and a howl of pain and then the tunnel sealed over her head, cutting her off from the chaos above. She was alone in the dark. She stood numbly, wiping at the tears sliding down her cheeks. They mixed with the dirt splatters to form a mask of mud. Then the ground gave way beneath her and she was falling, sliding down a gently sloping tunnel. A wave of dirt carried her along like an underground waterslide. She gave into the movement, whispering for the soil to pick up speed. She put her head back, closed her eyes, and let her body bounce and fly through the ground. _So this is what it would feel like to be buried underground._ Unlike Marama, Ava was not as adept at working with soil—she didn't like to feel confined. After a few minutes Ava reached the end of her ride. She was ejected onto the bank next to the quarry she'd been playing in earlier. _Had that only been half a day ago?_ She turned and saw the hole sealing itself and choked back a cry—Marama had not managed to follow her.

A root cracked against the back of her legs like a whip, pushing her forward, away from the house. She stumbled and started running into the night, desperate, unfocused. Pulling out of her sprint, she turned to see flames rising on the horizon. She knew she should keep running, save herself, but she just couldn't stand the thought of Marama, alone, trapped in that burning house, surrounded by bloodthirsty Makhai _._ She started jogging towards the fire, pushing away the guilt clinging to her like cobwebs. Taylah would understand. _She'd have to_.

A crackle of sparks drew Ava's eyes skyward. _You promised_ , hissed the electricity throbbing through the power lines above. _You promised_ , echoed the metal sewage pipes below, groaning and twisting to sing out their warning. At the intonations Ava's legs hit what felt like the airstream of jet plane engine. Experimentally she tried to run backwards; her movement was unobstructed. But as soon as she shifted her weight to head back to the house, to danger, there it was again, the impossible headwind. _Taylah had bound her in some way_ — _she could not break her promise._

Ava stood still, panting heavily at the effort of trying to get back to Marama. Stillness seemed the only safe option. She couldn't get back to Marama but she wasn't willing to abandon the girl either. There was a whisper of flapping wings and Ava turned hopefully. Silhouetted against the rising flames a cockatoo dive-bombed towards her. She ducked just in time to avoid a head-on collision. The bird knocked into her chest instead and took off back into the night. Something wet dripped down her side. She looked down to find a bloodstain blooming over her heart. Pulling the collar of her shirt down she found the cockatoo had run its claws over the alliance scar Gaia had outlined on her chest. It was bleeding freely. The message was clear—Ava was endangering their chance at peace. She remembered Taylah's words— _the hope dies with you_.

Stifling a sob, she took a few hesitant steps into the night, away from loved ones and towards self-preservation. Frustrated by her hesitation, the Earth rumbled and shook, dropping off in front of her, creating a steep hill. She tripped over the precipice and careened through the dirt, knocking against rocks like a bowling ball against bumpers. One stone caught her in the thigh, ripping open a long cut. This newest injury stung, and her limbs felt like fire as they finally came back to life, but the relief burned worst of all. A small part of her was relieved to be fleeing this place of danger and molten metal, relieved that the choice had been taken from her. She really was a coward.

She rolled to a stop, picked herself up, and dashed into the night, tears marking her path. Unthinking, uncaring, tripping and stumbling, she headed towards the coast, letting the ocean sing her home. She ran for hours, losing all track of time. Just as the sun peeked over the horizon she found herself back on the Great Ocean Road. She fairly flew down the last hill, legs churning against the sand, to fling herself into the water. She floated facedown, limbs splayed. The hours slipped by, the sun burning its hello into her skin.

Something nudged her foot and then her shoulder and then her hip. She sighed in relief and flipped over. Her dolphin friends had come for her.

" _Astrid_ ," she said, voice catching, as she touched the matriarch dolphin in a sign of welcome. "You came for me. _Thank you_."

Astrid whistled soothingly in reply and squeaked a series of instructions to the surrounding pod. The dolphins encircled Ava, welcoming her into their rich and deeply bonded social unit. She soaked in their empathy and affection, letting it draw out the terrible burden of guilt that had seeped into her bones. Ava bobbed gently in the water as the pod headed farther out to sea where they would be safer. Encircled by her dolphin family, and lulled by the rhythm of the waves, Ava drifted off.

Chapter 4

A squeak of joy jolted Ava awake. Salt had crusted over her eyelids and it took her a moment to pry them open.

"Owen!"

Her excitement disappeared as she got a better look at her old friend. He was half out of the water, supported by a member of the dolphin pod. There was a freshly healed scar over one eye and a set of bruises arrayed like violet petals across his forearms. Most worrying was the cloud of red growing in the water around his half submerged form.

Astrid squeaked, warning the blood would draw unwanted attention, especially from the great whites. Ava nodded, thinking for a moment. She swam away from the dolphin circle. Her dolphin family chattered anxiously at the separation. _I know how you feel_ , she thought, but kept swimming. When she was about a football field away from her group, she clasped her hands above her head like an ice skater and spun in a quick circle. The force of her movement displaced a truck-sized volume of water, forming a bubble of air that hung suspended just below the surface of the water. It would be invisible to anyone searching from the sky.

Owen's head thrust through the bubble wall, gasping and panting. One of the dolphins had ferried him over. Arms trembling at the effort, he hefted the rest of his body into the space. Ocean water spilled through with him but the bubble quickly sealed itself. He lay on the bubble floor, still panting. After a few moments he smiled at her, the movement tugging at another new scar, this one on his cheek.

"You made it out," he said with such force that Ava blushed.

_You mean, I abandoned my friends_ , she thought. "Did everyone else make it?" she asked with forced calm.

"No," Owen said, head slumping back against the bubble.

"Marama?"

Owen shook his head, sinking even lower.

_Marama hadn't made it_. Ava couldn't process the news at the moment; she needed to tend to Owen's injuries. "And the others, they're safe?"

"Yes. The threat was eliminated. It didn't take long to figure out we'd been tricked. When we circled back to the house we were...very angry."

Ava shivered, imagining the carnage that had unfolded in the shadow of the burning home.

"What happened to your leg?"

"Scorpion," Owen said.

Ava nodded, remembering her own run-in with the metal scorpion created by the Ares. But Owen's wound was five times the size of hers.

She kneeled down to get a closer look, probing the skin around the wound gently. "How big was this scorpion? Dog-sized?"

"Car-sized," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Which makes sense. Because it had once been a car. What a waste of a Tesla."

"My God. They can make _car-sized_ versions of those things?"

Owen raised an eyebrow at her. "So they sent them after you as well?"

"Just a tiny one. I'm pretty sure it was a scout. It burrowed into my ankle—I think it was trying to get a blood sample but...strangely enough, it was crushed by a metal spider."

Owen nodded. "Taylah's spiders are a thing of beauty, aren't they? They saved our lives last night—"

He gasped as Ava poured salt water on his wound.

"Sorry."

Owen nodded. "There weren't actually that many Ares attacking, only three. Our working theory is they stumbled upon us and acted on the fly—you're too big a target to let slip through their fingers. But they kept fashioning these metal scorpions to boost their numbers. Taylah's spiders started spinning metal webs—thin, pliable, but crazy strong."

Ava nodded, only half listening. She needed to take care of Owen's injury, to make one small thing better. "A bit of the scorpion's stinger broke off in your leg, that's why the wound hasn't closed. Do you want to pull it out or should I?"

She knew her friend must hate her playing nursemaid.

"I've got it," Owen said.

"You sure? The last thing I need is for you to faint. In this bubble. Floating aimlessly out to sea."

"We don't have to be floating aimlessly."

"What do you mean? Should I call a current?"

"Eventually. But I think our dolphin friends might be keen to play a little game."

Owen closed his eyes in concentration.

Ava's head knocked forward as something bumped against the bubble. It was one of the dolphins. Owen grinned. Another dolphin bumped them forward. Ava swayed with movement.

"If I wasn't getting seasick before..."

"But look how much fun they're having," Owen replied.

He had a point—the younger dolphins were squeaking with joy as they bounded into the bubble and jetted off, chasing one another. They were playing a rousing game of beach volleyball, except in this case, Ava and Owen were the ball.

"Look, Owen!"

Ava pressed her face against the bubble wall. Owen pulled himself over to see what had caught her attention. Astrid was putting on a show for them. She circled below their bubble and expertly expelled a small ring of air, like a miniature hula-hoop, shining silvery gray in the water. It expanded as it rose, delighting the baby dolphins who swerved in and out of the bubble ring's path. Just as the bubble reached the surface, Astrid executed a vertical sprint and jumped through the ring triumphantly.

Owen whistled and clapped at the feat. Then he grunted and looked up, eyes wide and face pale.

Ava was holding a sliver of scorpion barb she'd pulled out of Owen's leg while he was distracted. She clapped triumphantly. "There we go—now you'll heal."

"You tricked me," Owen accused, but he was smiling again.

Ava's nostrils flared at the word choice. " _I_ tricked _you_?"

The Gaia warrior had the grace to blush at least. "So...it worked?"

Ava tried not to grind her teeth. It might be a long time before she saw a dentist—what with this whole saving the world thing. Instead she took a big bite of her lip. "You knew about it then? Taylah's binding?"

"Yes."

"What was it?"

"I'm not sure what it's called. I have to give the Ares credit for the technique though, it's ingenious. They've found a way to leverage the innate group obligation humans feel as part of a social hierarchy. They've taken that obligation to the extreme. Skilled Ares members can essentially bind someone to a promise, as long as that promise is spoken aloud."

Owen didn't meet Ava's eye while he was talking, a sure sign he was hiding something.

"But I'm the Alpha. How can she bind me?"

"Just like for everyday social obligations, it becomes exponentially easier to bind someone when you know them well."

"But Taylah doesn't know—"

She stopped, once again forcing her jaw muscles to unclench. "Oh, I see. You helped her."

Owen nodded.

"Lucas too?"

"No," Owen admitted reluctantly.

Ava felt an intense pang of longing for Lucas. He would understand what it felt like to be compelled against her will. He would bear that last sangstone in his heart forever, a symbol of his bondage. _Would Taylah have lifelong control over me?_

"Will it bind me still?" she asked, keeping her voice carefully neutral.

"I hope so."

Ava had an intense urge to pop the bubble and drench that earnest face.

"Owen," she barked. "Can't you see? My life is not my own. First I was lied to by every person I cared about...my true identity was hidden from me. Then Gaia marked me as Her personal play thing/super soldier. And now you've helped bind me to the will of a woman I barely know. I'm drowning here. I'm not sure I even remember how to make decisions anymore, I get to make so few of them for myself."

"I'm sorry."

She looked up to see the concerned faces of her dolphin family crowded around the orb, watching their argument. "It's not good enough. Unbind me."

"I can't. I'm sorry," he repeated. "You're not the only one bound, you know."

She softened then. Stoic Owen—he was bound, head and heart, to the Order of the Gaia. The hardest, most dangerous, most morally challenging missions—they were given to Owen.

"I know that, I do." She hoped he could hear the appreciation in her tone, for being the soldier she could never dream of being. "But in some sense you've _chosen_ to bind yourself. At some point along the line you had a choice. I've never had that luxury."

Owen nodded, tugging a hand through his stubble. "That's fair."

She could feel his empathy but didn't sense any doubt or regret— _he would do it again if he could_. He and Taylah were the same. They wanted her alive. Even if she was demoralized, barely holding on, a shell of her former self. She was most important as a symbol.

"Look at them," Owen said, gesturing once more at the dolphins. Responding to the break in tension in their conversation, the dolphins were now carousing with each other, slick gray bodies chasing, and bumping, and leaping. "If a dolphin in Astrid's pod were to get caught in a fisherman's net, she would stay with it. She wouldn't abandon that dolphin. It's why so many dolphins die every year in tuna nets, horrible deaths, because they won't leave their companions. Noble as that is, how would Astrid's death serve the others?"

"But do you see how much her pod trusts her? They know that if they get themselves into trouble, Astrid will stay with them, even if it means death. So they follow her. How will people follow me as the Alpha if I just keep disappearing during the action? If I make it clear I think my own life is worth more than theirs?"

Owen tugged more forcefully at his beard. She'd scored a hit. _Maybe Owen would unbind her_.

"I'm not saying I'm going to be jumping out of planes or into burning buildings..." she trailed off, her lungs suddenly feeling like they were encased in cement. _Maybe Marama had made it out of that burning building._ _Maybe she had burrowed deep underground, somewhere the others hadn't found her_. Sucking in a mouthful of air, she continued, "I just need the freedom to make high level decisions next time I face off against the Ares. I mean, Taylah's binding almost killed me last night."

Owen raised his eyebrows.

"You guys left me back at the house for my protection. And Taylah...made sure I couldn't follow. Obviously the Ares predicted that would be your strategy and they came for me at the house. They know what we're thinking and planning even before we do. And they know I'll be the one most protected."

Owen's face darkened. "None of the Ares will be reporting on the events of last night. But I can see the binding leaves you at a tactical disadvantage—if the Ares get wind of it they'll be able to unfailingly predict your next move."

"So you'll unbind me?"

"I can't, Ava, really. Taylah is the only one who can remove the binding."

They knocked against each other as the bubble stopped suddenly and started drifting in the opposite direction.

"Fine, we're going back."

"There's nothing to go back to. Lucas, Taylah, and Kira thought it best to leave the area immediately. Once they regroup, they're leaving on their mission to find the other teens, the Star Crossed. My orders were to find you."

"Where are they going?"

Owen sighed. "They didn't tell me."

Of course, it was safer for everyone if they didn't know each other's whereabouts.

Their knees knocked into each other. This time the bubble had jerked to a stop. Owen grunted in pain.

"Sorry about that," Ava said, "I'm still having a little trouble with finesse."

"I think I know someone who can help with that."

" _Really_? Is it safe to see her?"

Owen nodded. "She's expecting us."

_Where to?_ asked Astrid from outside, no doubt curious about the bubble's chaotic path.

Ava's eyes swam with tears. "Home. We're going home."

Chapter 5

Ava's elbow thumped against the inside of the car door loudly. With every thwack and jolt her smile widened. She and Owen were driving down the road to her grandmother's house. Their rollicking progress reminded her of all her past visits. It had taken them ten days to get here from their bubble in the ocean—by plane, train, boat, and covert night runs. She'd followed Owen, safe in his competence, relieved not to have any responsibility beyond staying quiet and shadowing his footsteps. Such mindless imitation had lanced the boil of fear building in her chest after the Makhai's ambush. It had also freed her to concentrate on trying to pick up any news of Lucas. The two of them had developed a special connection, born out of the intensity of their polarized relationship. At first it had allowed them to snatch the occasional memory from one another, like momentarily intercepting the neighbor's cable. But it had grown more powerful as their relationship had grown.

Of course it worked best when they were physically close. Now, she didn't know where he was and the not knowing was a physical ache. She'd gotten used to sharing thoughts, feelings, fears, hopes, and memories. Try as she might—eyes squeezed shut in concentration at whatever hostel, dirt road, or café they had stopped at for a moment—she hadn't been able to pick up any sign of him. Lucas was either very far away or he was purposefully blocking their connection, making himself invisible to her.

Five days into their escape they'd been holed up, literally, in a Berlin train station trying to catch an hour or two of sleep. The station's resident rat population had led them to a small dugout below the tracks and beckoned for them to rest while they spread out and kept watch. They hadn't slept more than five hours total in the last five days. Owen had explained their frenetic, circuitous route home as an attempt to leave Ava's trail across as many countries and continents as possible to confuse potential pursuers.

She'd just drifted off to sleep when a rat had skittered over her shoulder—taking its turn for guard duty—and she'd jerked awake, bumping into the dirt wall above her, visions of metal scorpions burning in her memory. The accompanying surge of adrenaline had shocked her right out of her body and into Lucas's, or at least that's what it had felt like. She was looking through his eyes as a chimpanzee stretched a long finger out to him, as if the chimp were God in Michelangelo's _The Creation of Adam_. She could feel Lucas smiling, and reaching out his own hand towards the great ape.

And then he was gone. She was back in the dirt and darkness of the train station. She'd dug fingernails into thighs as she channeled all of her focus into seeing more, but to no avail. Finally she'd fished Owen's phone out of his pocket and run a quick Internet search for countries that had wild chimpanzee populations. Senegal, Guinea, Cameroon, Gabon...

She had chanted the names over and over to herself, her longing for Lucas so powerful she thought she might be able to will herself to his side through incantation. What good was being the Alpha if she couldn't teleport to her boyfriend? She felt again the smile on his face as if it were her own—he was letting down his guard, engaging with animals and his Gaia side. She wanted to be there to watch and guide him.

A familiar black shape lumbering out of the trees brought Ava back to the present. Sheba, a black bear the size of an SUV _and_ her grandmother's best friend, reared up to greet them. Black bears were part of the reason she and Owen had had to travel so far into isolation today, branching off into ever-rougher backcountry roads. The bears were drawn to her grandmother, Lena, and she to them. But people tended to notice when a critical mass of bears descended on their neighborhood. So Lena had moved to a place far from where people noticed things.

Ava stuck her head out the window, beaming at her grandmother's friend. The bear patted her gently on the head before hurrying around to the other side of the car to swipe a huge paw at Owen's beard.

Sheba seemed to know Owen well. The Gaia warrior must have been a frequent visitor in recent months. The thought of him and her grandmother keeping one another company made Ava smile. But her smile faltered slightly as she watched Sheba roughhouse with her companion—Owen had stolen the bear's affection.

Sheba's greeting served dual purposes—security vetting and official welcoming ceremony. As playful as Sheba could be, she was a fierce and tested warrior. Anyone who wished her grandmother harm would be confronted by a phalanx of very large, very tactical black bears. Now the bear sprinted next to them joyfully, racing their car as they finished the last stretch to her grandmother's home.

Home. She was home. Ava luxuriated in her nostalgia at the sight of her grandmother's white house, its wraparound porch making it look like a giant wide-brimmed hat lying in a field. Then a figure sprinted down the steps towards the car. She moved much faster than her eighty plus years should have allowed.

"Grandma!" Ava squealed, scrambling to open the car door. In her haste she pushed at different buttons along the passenger side, popping open the glove compartment, lowering the window, changing the radio station. Finally she managed to wrench the door open and right off its frame before flinging herself into her grandmother's arms.

She ignored Owen's sigh behind her, concentrating instead on her grandmother's perfume. She felt them, the twin pulses of surprise and joy emanating from a fourth person, before she saw her grandmother's guest. She pulled out of her grandmother's hug. Lena was reluctant to let her go but there was a sly grin on her face.

" _Natasha_?" Ava called at a figure in the window. Her friend disappeared from the window, echoing Lena's hurried flight from a few moments before. What was her best friend, a human who knew nothing of the orders and their terrible, invisible war, doing at her grandmother's house? More importantly, what would she think of the six-hundred-pound black bear playing an aggressive game of patty cake with Owen behind her?

"Get over here," Natasha said, pulling her into a tight hug. When Ava looked up she was relieved to find she wasn't the only one with tears in her eyes. They stared shyly at each other for a long moment—Ava didn't know where to start. Lena moved over to drape an arm around Natasha, tugging her back towards the house. "Let's all have some tea. And then we'll leave you two alone to catch up."

Ava trailed after them, trying to reorient herself after the whiplash of her worlds colliding. Owen put an arm around her as they trooped up the steps together.

"Did you like your surprise?" he asked, clearly pleased that he'd been able to pull it off.

She smiled at him, stoic Owen, looking out for everyone in his life. They hadn't really touched since that night back in Australia, when Lucas had whipped the crowd into a hormonal frenzy. She wondered fleetingly if there'd been more to their affection that night than just Lucas's manipulation, if there was still anything between them. But no, she felt nothing more than deep affection for her old friend. Her thoughts went instead to the boy reaching so hopefully out to that chimpanzee, to bedhead and dimples and cappuccino freckles.

"Tea" turned out to involve more courses of food than Ava could count on one hand, a medley of hearty soups, stews, and rice dishes.

"You're not going to eat that all right now, are you?" Natasha asked Ava, eyes wide. "Have you not eaten since I last saw you?"

"Something like that," Ava mumbled through a thick piece of bread. She wondered if Sheba had made the bread—apparently the bear was a wunderkind of kneading. The claws probably helped.

In truth she and Owen had barely paused to eat on their journey home. In Berlin, the rats had proudly presented them with a feast they'd scrounged from around the train station. The pièce de résistance was a full slice of stale pizza.

Owen had said it would be rude to refuse so she'd faked a sore throat and watched in horror as he worked his way through the food, finishing with the giant slice of pizza. She was fairly sure his main motivation had been to watch her face twist into ever more elaborate expressions of disgust, and he had not been disappointed.

It was Natasha's turn to look horrified, not at what they were eating, but at the sheer volume of their combined consumption.

"This is the last bit I promise," Ava said, spooning a scoop of homemade sorbet into a bowl. Her stomach had actually started groaning in protest a few dishes back, right around the chia seed pudding, but she'd forced herself to soldier on. She was secretly dreading that moment when the last plates were cleared and Lena and Owen squirreled themselves away in other areas of the house to give her and Natasha privacy. How could her best friend not hate her for keeping her identity a secret? All those thousands of hours on the swings, in Nat's basement, on late night walks, and she'd never managed to mention that she was part of a secret, ancient Order of warriors defending the Earth. She hadn't had to mutter more than ten words during the meal, so full had she stuffed her mouth.

"Sheba," Natasha called at the nearest window, "do you want my mushrooms?"

A furry head popped up, nodding aggressive assent.

This was too much for Ava. "So...so you're acquainted with Sheba?"

Natasha knew about and was apparently unfazed by the bear. But how much else did she know?

"Yup, we go way back," Natasha said. "Sheba actually saved my life."

Ava coughed raspberry sorbet onto the tablecloth. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah. That's why I'm here. A couple of weeks after you disappeared, some guy showed up at my door. He said he was the cable guy. But it was nighttime and I was home alone so I was wary—you know how sensitive my creep radar is. Well this guy was triggering a five-bell alarm.

"I told him I couldn't let him in and he smiled and shrugged like it was no big deal. I was just going back upstairs when I saw him whip something out of his pocket and throw it at the door. It was like a little metal bug thing. And it scampered right for the lock, climbing in through the keyhole. I could hear the locks clicking and I just screamed at the top of my lungs. Well, that's when Sheba made her entrance, although I didn't know it was Sheba at the time. All I heard was this roaring from the trees on the side of my house. Then this giant black bear came charging out and the guy panicked and ran off. It was all _very_ dramatic." She turned to smile at the bear in the window.

"Sheba's never passed up a chance for a dramatic entrance in her life," Lena said dryly.

Ava felt sick, disoriented by Natasha chumming around with the black bear, and from eating half her body weight at "tea."

"Anyway I fainted for just a hot second. And when I came to, Sheba was on the porch. For whatever reason, I trusted her—"

"What was Sheba doing at Natasha's house?" Ava asked, turning between Owen and Lena.

"We were keeping an eye on her," Owen said, giving Natasha an apologetic look. "We were desperate to turn up leads after you disappeared and we thought you might try to contact Natasha."

Ava willed herself not to blush. She hadn't tried to contact her best friend after disappearing, one of many people she'd disappointed. Maybe that's why she and Lucas were drawn to each other; they were both disappointments to the people they loved.

"And the guy?" Ava asked, angry that she'd left Natasha unprotected.

"Makhai wannabe—like those guys who attacked me back at the Ritual of Fire in Hawai'i. They're bottom-feeders, not smart or capable enough to make it into the elite ranks of the Makhai so they trade in violence instead. Far less principled about hurting humans."

Natasha looked at Owen. The look caused something to bloom way down in Ava's stomach—she was jealous.

" _This_ guy," Natasha said, gesturing at Owen, "showed up the next morning to make sure I was ok. He explained as much as he could and asked if he could take me somewhere safe, at least until things quieted down a bit. Again, I don't know why, but I agreed."

Ava knew why. That look had said it all. She said quickly, "But what about your parents? Where do they think you are?"

"Oh, Owen did his whole charm routine and sold my parents on the idea that I should take a semester at Mountain School in Vermont—reconnect with the Earth and all that."

With the natural charisma of the Gaia, Owen could've told Natasha's parents she was going to study alligators at the North Pole and they would have nodded enthusiastically and shoved her out the door, bags packed.

"The funny thing is, it's been everything he promised my parents and more. I _have_ been reconnecting with the natural world, learning to fend for myself. Lena's taught me to name hundreds of different plants and even to make some basic medicines."

The little flower of jealously in her stomach sprouted another bud. Natasha had been here, with her grandmother, visited by Owen, while Ava had been on the run. And Natasha wasn't the only one looking adoringly at someone in the room; Lena beamed whenever her friend spoke. Ava had been replaced.

"Oh wow, you're lucky," Ava said, trying to keep some of the acid out of her voice. "Grandma is very protective of her herbal lore—she hasn't even shared it with me."

Lena frowned at this and set about clearing the table. "I think it's time we let the two of you have a proper catch-up."

"But I need a proper catch-up with you as well, Grandma," Ava replied, trying to forestall the inevitable.

"And so you shall have one. You'll be hungry again in what? An hour?" she asked, glancing at her watch and winking at Ava. "Perhaps we can have our catch-up then."

Ava made a face. Her grandmother made a face right back before hurrying Owen into the other room. She and Natasha were alone.

Ava studied the colorful tablecloth for a moment, picking at a loose thread. Without looking up, she whispered, "Do you hate me?"

"Hate?" Natasha asked, surprised. "No, of course not. Envy maybe. But not hate, never hate."

At the warmth in Natasha's tone Ava dragged her gaze from the table. She was rewarded with a smile.

"Jealous?" Ava asked.

"Why do you sound so surprised? I can talk to Sheba but you can _talk_ to Sheba. Now that I've been hanging out with Lena and Owen, seeing the way they connect with the world around them I feel...stunted, like I'm missing a vital sixth sense or...a limb. Like I've been cut off from something precious. Can I tell you a secret?"

"Always," Ava said.

"I shouted at a squirrel the other day, really shouted. I was concentrating as hard as I could to connect with it—to show it I was unafraid, and meant it no harm. And, of course, it just kind of ran up a tree and I just lost it. I was stamping my foot on the ground and swearing like a sailor."

Ava giggled. "God, I'd pay good money to see that."

"It's not funny," Natasha said, crossing her arms over her chest, but the corners of her mouth tilted up. "Okay, it's a little funny. Do you think...is it something I could learn?"

"Yes...and no. I don't think we can teach you exactly how we communicate with animals. But I think you're already learning the most important bits. You said you can talk to Sheba. And Sheba is clearly bananas about you. That's the first step. Seeing animals, seeing them as beings, but not _human_ beings, with personality and intelligence and inherent value—"

"Okay, Jane Goodall. I get it. Animals are _the best_. But how do I communicate with them?"

"I'm not sure what else to say than to listen. We humans tend to want animals to behave like us, to understand us. God, think about how we anthropomorphize dogs. And if animals don't do that, we just start yelling at them louder. But they're communicating in their own ways. Tail wags, ear movements, grimaces, growls, squeaks, howls—they're vast, complex, and emotionally rich sounds and behaviors. They have their own alphabets. We can teach you the basic letters."

"Dude, Mountain School is so much better than real school. I'm going to learn to talk to an eagle...I'm going to learn to talk to an eagle," Natasha chanted, raising her arms in triumph. "I think Sheba's been trying to teach me. But I'm not the best pupil. As far as I can tell she seems to wave her paws around extravagantly and point at my heart. That bear really missed her calling as a Shakespearean stage actor."

There was a chuckle from the window. Apparently Sheba was eavesdropping, which probably meant other members of the household were as well.

This was not the reaction Ava had expected. She felt a rush of pity for Natasha—exposed to the Gaia's abilities without having them herself. Maybe this was why they were forbidden to tell humans about themselves. Although if humans cared as much as Natasha did about connecting with the Earth, the Gaia wouldn't be in this perilous position in the first place.

"Now that I'm here, I can translate for Sheba," Ava promised.

Natasha's eyes lit up. "How long are you staying?"

Ava's eyes went back to the tablecloth. "I don't know...three, maybe four days at most."

"That's all?"

"Owen's golden rule is that we can't stay in one place longer than four days. And even that's pushing it. You know Owen..."

"I _do_."

Ava looked up quickly at the emphasis in her friend's words.

"Man, where to next? Belize? Copenhagen?" There was a note of longing in Natasha's voice.

"Don't be _too_ jealous. You know that guy that threw the metal bug at your door to break in? There's plenty more where he came from and they all want my head on a platter."

Natasha snorted angrily, puffing herself up like a chimpanzee showing off. "They'll have to get through me first."

Ava grabbed Natasha's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't forget. I've got some lethal Zumba moves at my disposal."

Natasha snorted again—this time the sound was a mixture of sobbing and laughing. "I mean it, don't get yourselves killed."

Ava heard the plural in the sentence, understood its significance. She wanted to ask about Owen. But doing so would only smother whatever might be developing before it had a chance. She didn't think Natasha even knew what she was feeling, had identified that her affection for Owen was more than friendship. Like possums in the night, such feelings would disappear if Ava shone a spotlight on them. She had to admit she was tempted at the thought. Her jealousy was not romantic in nature; she didn't want to compete with Natasha for Owen's affection. She just liked being one of the most important people in each of their lives. She didn't have many people like that, especially now with Owen's four-day rule, and she didn't want to lose the ones she had.

Owen popped his head into the kitchen. "We need to cover our tracks from earlier today. Want to help summon a little March thunderstorm, Ava?" Turning to Natasha, he asked, "Want to watch?"

Natasha nodded enthusiastically.

Ava looked at her watch. "Give us five minutes,"

"Sure," Owen said, "meet you on the front porch."

After the Gaia warrior disappeared Ava took a deep breath and turned back to Natasha. Hurriedly she said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I disappeared. I'm sorry I put you in danger. I genuinely thought you'd be safe if I didn't reach out after I fled...but now...hearing about that thug who almost broke into your house. Lucas said they wouldn't hurt you, he promised, but I don't think either of us realized how far the Makhai were willing to go to find the Alpha—"

" _Ava_ ," Natasha said, halting her teary rambling. "Don't torture yourself. I'm here. I'm okay, _happy_ even."

"Really?" Ava said, wiping her tears with her sleeve.

Natasha nodded. "Plus Lena told me who...what you are. What you mean to your people. Of course you couldn't stay for me."

Ava groaned, tears streaming freely again. "Not you too."

"What?" Natasha asked.

"Everybody's acting like I'm some kind of Joan of Arc character or something. They all shake their heads solemnly and say it's my duty to save myself, to sacrifice my loved ones...Can I tell you a secret? One I haven't even told my grandma yet."

"Always," Natasha said, echoing Ava's earlier promise.

Quickly and quietly, so quietly that even Sheba couldn't hear, she told her friend the story of how Taylah had bound her.

When she was finished, Natasha murmured, "Okay, wow, thank you, you're really helping with my whole jealous of the Gaia thing."

Ava smiled. "So glad I could be of service."

"But that is messed up. Seriously messed up. Has this lady never heard of morale? Doesn't she get the psychological torture she's sentenced you to—never knowing if you'll be able to help the people around you?"

Ava nodded enthusiastically. "Thank you for understanding. _Some_ people don't get it."

"I mean I get why she did it."

"You do?" Ava said, her smile disappearing.

"Yeah. You don't listen, even when people are trying to help you. You take huge risks. Take, for example, the whole forbidden relationship with the mortal enemy situation you have going on. I mean, I can remember a fair few times in our childhood when I just wanted to yell at you not to antagonize the bully three times our size or to wear a bloody coat when a blizzard descended, but..."

" _But_?"

"Not listening is kind of what makes you _you_. It ended up being a really good thing that you took a risk on Lucas...and now I get that you probably didn't need a coat in that blizzard." Natasha grinned. "You trust your gut, you know what you want out of the world, you take risks. Those all seem like positive traits for a leader. Far better than guilt-ridden, indecisive, perpetually conservative, which is what you'll be if you stay bound."

"The guilt, Nat...it's..." Ava said.

"I think there might be a way around the binding."

Ava pushed down the hummingbird of hope that had dared to flutter in her chest.

"It sounds like the binding is preying on your fear and emotions—it won't let you move towards somewhere _you_ consider dangerous. So it's subjective rather than objective. It has to be because it leverages your emotions. So if you can shift _your_ perspective on what's dangerous—training yourself to believe, really, truly believe that it's more dangerous for you to abandon your friends and family than to save them, then the binding shouldn't be able to prevent you from doing so. And it sounds like it truly is more dangerous, both to your mental wellbeing and your future prospects."

Ava paused for a long moment, thinking through Natasha's analysis. "That is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."

Natasha straightened in her chair. "I'm not the muscle, despite Sheba's attempts to recruit me into her aerobics routine. And I can't communicate with the flora or fauna. So I've got to try and be the brains of this little operation. Got to contribute somehow."

Ava felt like snatching Natasha up and spinning her around. Her heart stuttered in excitement and then calmed, falling into a slower rhythm than it had in months. Her best friend knew her secret and not only didn't hold it against her but wanted to be a part of her new world. The revelation was a boon, a sense that her world was growing when once it had seemed like it might shrink and shrink forever.

There was an impatient grunt from the front porch.

"Want to go see about that thunderstorm?" Ava asked.

Natasha was already halfway to the door.

Lena and Owen were standing on the porch surveying the blue sky above. It was unseasonably warm for an early evening in March.

"Not a cloud in the sky," Owen noted, disappointed.

Lena rubbed her hands together in excitement. "Ah, that just makes it more fun."

"Nothing we can't handle together, especially after that meal," Ava said.

She grabbed Owen and Lena's forearms, gripping tightly. Strictly speaking, they didn't need to be touching to call the storm together, but Ava needed the physical reminder that they were all in this together.

"Name a song, Natasha," Owen said in an obvious attempt to include the teen.

"'The Lark Ascending,' by Vaughan Williams," Natasha replied without hesitation.

Owen raised his eyebrows. "Okay, not what I was expecting, but 'The Lark Ascending' it is. Sheba will you do the honors?" He looked at Ava. "Sheba's record collection is _insane_ , I'm still trying to figure out how she gets them."

A few moments after Sheba disappeared, the faint stirrings of classical music drifted from speakers that had been positioned in the windows facing the porch. Owen had a thing for storms and music.

They concentrated, building the storm to the twisting and swelling of the orchestra's playing. It was a song of air and space, perfect for the quiet gathering and shy bluster of those pre-storm moments. Branches shuddered in the wind, mimicking the graceful sway of a violinist. Dark clouds marshaled, their movement dictated by the violinist's call. A bird flew overhead, not a lark but a hawk. It wheeled in the sky, wings raised like pennants in the breeze. There was such pride in the sweeping figure eights it traced above them.

There was a tremendous booming thunderclap and they were free from the spell of the music, entranced now by a different spell, one of sound and fury. Rain spilled down like coins from a winning slot machine. Thunder rumbled. The storm was all consuming. Unable to stop herself, Ava ran down the porch steps and into the melee. She felt _alive_. This is what she'd missed, that feeling of being so present her consciousness seemed to be pushing against the boundaries of her skin. After a moment more, there were no boundaries—she was the storm. She turned in a slow circle, arms outstretched and eyes closed.

When she opened them, she paused. Twelve roots had wrestled their way out of the ground, forming a perfect circle around her. Together, they began twisting and twining like rearing serpents. Ava giggled. _They were trying to dance with her_. The trees wanted to dance. Moss had grown halfway up her legs like gorgeous velvet boots—the Earth was claiming her for its own. What would her childhood friend think of this?

"Nat," she called, spinning once again. At her voice, the root closest to the farmhouse pushed itself further out of the earth, straining against some invisible anchor, and beckoned at her friend to join the fun.

"Coming!" Natasha yelled. She yelped as the cold rain hit her and ran laughingly over to Ava, grabbing her arms and jumping in excitement. Ava lapped up the reverence in Natasha's eyes. She didn't want her friend to be jealous but the jealousy was a reminder of the extraordinary gift Ava had been granted.

Sheba lumbered through the rain and reared up to join them. She tried to grab a root to waltz with but the limb ducked and retreated hurriedly into the ground. Ava snorted. She moved towards the bear to offer herself as a dance partner, leaving the safety of the circle. But Natasha had beaten her to it and was now bending into a curtsey in front of the bear as if they were at a ball in a Jane Austen novel. It was too much. She threw her head back and laughed.

"You and storms, huh?" Owen whispered from behind her.

She jumped in surprise.

"Sorry."

Ava turned to smile at him, keeping a safe distance between them. The last time they'd been in a rainstorm, the mood had been decidedly less...silly. She blushed, hoping Owen was not remembering what she was remembering—cold rain and warm skin.

"What are you feeling right now?"

"Er, _right_ now?" Ava stuttered. _Confusion. Embarrassment. Longing for a certain boy halfway around the world._

Owen continued, "I want to feel the way you feel in a storm."

"You sound like Natasha."

"It's very hard for her. Knowing but not _knowing_."

"Of course, _I_ know that," Ava snapped, suddenly defensive. But the rain was a shield—it clung to eyelashes, blurring sights and dimming sounds. Her anger was lost on Owen, thankfully.

He shook his head. "All I see when I look at you in the rain is that little girl who refused to go inside so long ago, thin arms jutting towards the sky in almost religious fervor. What does it feel like, Ava? What does it feel like to talk to Gaia?"

So that was Owen's angle. He was envious as well, in his own way. What a mess the world was—stoic Owen jealous of her for being the Alpha when he would do such a better job of it.

"Gaia threw boiling water at me and left me wounded and bleeding to fight off a fleet of mutant great whites. So, honestly, you're not missing out on much."

"Not missing out, _huh_?" Owen said, staring at something over her shoulder.

She turned to find the circle of roots now filled with wild lupines in shades of violet and blue and pink. The electric color of the flowers turned iridescent as raindrops clung to their petals. It was breathtaking.

"But it's far too early for lupines," Ava whispered.

"They're for you."

After the first thrill at the unexpected beauty of the scene, Ava felt inexplicably sad. "I'll go make us a fire." She gestured that Owen should join Natasha and Sheba.

She shivered as she walked up the porch steps. Why had the flowers made her so sad? With a pang, she understood. The flowers wouldn't last more than a few days; they'd be killed in the evening frosts still carpeting the land. And they weren't the only ones who would sacrifice their lives for her, the Alpha, before her mission was through.

Her grandmother was nowhere to be found, but a cheery fire crackled in the living room. Lena had undoubtedly been called away on Order business. This had been a constant in her childhood, coming home to find her mother gone, sandwich half eaten, dog food strewn across the floor. One time she'd even left a cake in the oven. The house had almost burnt down. No sense in worrying about what had called her grandmother away; she'd know soon enough. She curled up in the armchair closest to the fire and drifted off.

She awoke to soft voices. She didn't open her eyes right away, savoring the feeling of being safe and surrounded by loved ones. She'd played this game when she was younger, listening to the house wake around her—the tea kettle whistling on the stove, her brother laughing as he teased one of the dogs. When she did finally open her eyes, she was disappointed to find only Owen and Natasha on the couch and not her parents. Her grandmother was reading in the other armchair by the fire. Or actually, she was pretending to read. Her gaze was too fixed to actually be reading. She had something she needed to report.

"Hey, sleepy head," Natasha said.

"What'd I miss?" Ava asked.

"Nothing," Lena said curtly, before Owen or Natasha could speak.

"Well, I'm off," Natasha said, stifling a yawn.

Ava recognized that faux yawn from many a past sleepover. Natasha would break it out whenever a parent checked in on them, assuring said parent they were about to go to bed, only to spend the next three hours laughing and chatting. Natasha could take a hint.

"There's something I have to show you," Lena said grimly, as soon as they heard Natasha's footsteps from the second floor. She motioned for them to stand.

Ava did so, stretching tight muscles. "Where'd you go this evening?"

"To collect what I'm about to show you," Lena said. "I have a memory—"

"You collected a _memory_?" Ava asked.

"Yes," Lena said shortly. "The Order worked very hard to acquire it after Owen reported rumors of dissension in the Ares ranks. Do you both feel up to a linea tonight? I know it's been a long day."

She had directed the question at the two of them but only glanced at Ava. Owen looked as fresh and hale as ever.

When her grandmother performed a linea Ava and Owen would re-live the shared memory as if it were happening to them. From Lena's tone, Ava gathered it would not be an easy memory to experience.

"Of course," Owen said.

Ava had no choice but to nod and echo Owen's assent. Wouldn't it all be so much easier if he were the Alpha?

"Where are we going?" Ava asked.

"Washington, DC," Lena answered brusquely. Her grandmother gripped each of their forearms. "You'll be able to talk to each other once you're in the memory," she instructed, "but don't forget to focus on the details. Especially the faces, remember the faces."

"Whose memory are we inhabiting? How will we recognize him or her?" Ava asked in a rush, dreading the feeling of being pulled into the linea.

"Todd Cannon is your memory host," Lena answered. "He has a prosthetic arm made of metal. But he's not the important one. Look for the man in glasses. Roger Stain—the new leader of the Makhai."

Ava nodded. Lena closed her eyes in concentration.

"And don't forget, Ava," Owen said, "just breathe."

There was a murmured countdown and then suddenly Ava felt like she was being dragged underwater. Remembering when Gaia had snatched her down into the bowels of the ocean, Ava felt a sudden and overwhelming panic at not being able to breathe. She tried to struggle but found her limbs were locked into place; she couldn't open her eyes.

"You're okay," Owen said, shaking her.

They were in a dark space—a basement of some kind? There was something wrong with the memory, something off. Everything was a little fuzzy, like looking through an out of focus camera.

"Why is it—"

Owen put a finger to his lips, his soldier instinct buzzing even though they were in a memory. Nobody could hear them. He gestured at the ground. There was a slight vibration beneath them, and then two men emerged from what looked like a crude tunnel. One was a slight brunette, prematurely balding, with trendy square glasses; he could've been anywhere from twenty-five to forty-five. He looked like pretty much every other overworked, under-slept political lackey in DC. The other was tall and powerfully built, and had a salt and pepper beard. Remembering her grandmother's advice, she committed the faces to memory. A third person moved out of the shadows to greet the others with a quick nod. His hands were clenched into fists—one of metal, one of flesh. _Todd Cannon_.

"Evening, Roger," Todd said.

"Todd," the man with the glasses replied. It was clear he was in charge. "Security?"

"Neutralized," Todd answered.

The way he said it Ava realized that the security in question was a "who" not a "what." She shivered. What were these three men doing in the basement?

"I'll go up first. When we go up these stairs we'll be in the kitchen. Her bedroom's the second door on the right," Todd said.

_Her bedroom?_ Ava's stomach turned. Owen grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and they followed the three men up the steps. The first man made it through the door without a sound. The second followed. The third, Roger, had his hand on the knob when there was a howl like nothing Ava had ever heard before—metallic, grating—and then a very human scream. Roger hesitated, cursing under his breath. Ava and Owen brushed past him to see where the now deafening screams were coming from. She couldn't stop herself from elbowing Roger in the nose as they passed but her arm went right through him, making no impact. Owen tugged her through the basement door.

Ava gasped. A silver wolf had locked its jaws onto the leg of the powerfully built man. No, not a wolf. Metal come to life, like Taylah's spider. The dog opened its mouth to get a better grip on the man's thigh and Ava saw the grooved blades of a buzz saw where its teeth should have been. The hound shook its head from side to side like a terrier with a chew toy. The man screamed in agony. Owen motioned for her to turn. A second dog had backed Todd into a corner next to a refrigerator and was menacing him with growls, each one like the revving of a chainsaw.

"Heat, use heat on it!" Todd, their memory host, yelled at the man locked in the steel wolf's jaws.

But the other man just gurgled in pain. The carpet around him was seeped in red. Ava turned away.

"She's awake, we have to hurry," Todd called at the basement door, where the third man still hid.

Then, seemingly in slow motion, Todd gripped the refrigerator behind him, picked it up, and launched it at the dog that had cornered him. The force of the impact pinned the dog against the wall where it whimpered in frustration.

"So you took the coward's way, Roger. I thought you might." An older woman stepped out of the darkness. She looked to be in her mid-sixties with high cheekbones, a pierced nose, and a long braid of black and silver hair. The tendons in her neck stood out against skin, the only sign of her strain at commanding the attack hounds. The first wolf unlocked its jaws from the big man's limp body and sprinted to stand before its mistress. Hackles raised, it let out a long, low, metallic growl. Blood dripped from its teeth.

"Call off your dogs, Lilith," Todd said.

"Coward's way?" Roger sputtered, stepping over his dying colleague like he was a bag of trash. Todd took a step forward as well. The hair on the back of Ava's neck stood on end at the way they were slowly moving towards the woman, like lions toward their prey. "I'm the only one brave enough to take on the Alpha witch."

"At any cost?" the old woman said.

" _At any cost_ ," Roger said. "That's what the General would've done."

The old woman spat on the ground. "Don't talk to me of your General," she said bitterly. "The Elders should've gotten rid of him when they had the chance."

"Careful, woman," Roger said with a vicious smile.

"Why?" she taunted. "You'll kill me if I'm not?"

It was clear they were going to kill her either way. Ava felt a burst of respect for this Ares woman, brave and defiant to the end.

"You and your Makhai zealots have perverted our Order to a point beyond recognition," the old woman said. "All your ritual and noble talk of self-sacrifice—it's just a pretext for petty violence...Fitting isn't it, that even your _glorious_ General's own son would betray him?"

The General's own son? They were talking about Lucas and his father. Ava studied the woman. Why was she needling her assailants like this? Defiance? No, she was trying to distract Roger from her metal guard dog, which was inching its way towards the bespectacled man. And her plan seemed to be working. Dark splotches of color spread across Roger's face. Sweat drenched through his collared shirt. He was easily taunted.

The older woman continued, "Do you really think the Elders will let you get away with killing one of their own?"

"Maybe not," Roger said. "But now they'll know—"

The dog attacked. Todd jumped in front of Roger, screaming as the wolf's jaws snapped on his Achilles. Meanwhile the woman began chanting under her breath. Ava recognized the sound—the older woman was trying to activate the sangstones of her opponents. Ava's heart sped up in excitement—only the Makhai bore the sangstones and Lilith was clearly not a Makhai. She'd have a huge tactical advantage.

Todd grunted and jammed his metal arm into the head of the wolf attacking him. Snarling, the creature released him. Ava watched in fascination as Todd's metal arm burned red and began to melt. He made an elaborate figure eight gesture and strips of metal twisted out of his arm like spun sugar, wending their way around the steel hound and ensnaring him.

Roger clutched at his heart. Lilith's attack on his sangstones was working. Her chant grew louder and she moved closer to Roger.

Suddenly Roger straightened. Pulling the glasses off his face, he flung them casually at the older woman. They hit her throat, fusing instantly around her neck.

"No! _How_?" Lilith spat.

Roger smiled as the glasses tightened around the older woman's neck. She pulled frantically at the metal, falling to her knees and gasping for breath. The steel wolf whimpered and tried to free itself from Todd's bindings but he slammed a fist into its chest.

"I no longer bear the sangstones. The General and I decided it would be better if I were not vulnerable to the leverage of other Ares Elders. Those not willing to do what it takes for the final purge of the Gaia."

With one last shuddering breath the older woman forced out, "The...Alpha...she's coming for you..." She smiled, seeming to relish the thought, and her eyes closed.

Ava ran over to check on the older woman, to revive her—her brain was screaming at her to do _something_. But she was trapped in a memory she couldn't change.

"Ava," Owen said urgently gesturing back towards the men.

"Sir," Todd barked disapprovingly, "I thought we agreed—you weren't going to get your hands dirty. Your DNA will be all over now. I'll try to clean it up—"

"Leave it," Roger snarled. "No more games. If the Elders were waiting to see my first move, now they've seen it. Pawn for a _queen_." He looked between the two bodies on the floor.

"But—" Todd attempted.

"Enough," Roger said. "There is something else I need you to do for me."

"Of course," Todd said.

"The General's son—" Roger said.

Ava gasped, sucking in air and choking on something thick and coarse. She opened her eyes to find she'd tangled herself in her own hair and was now being suffocated by her curls. They were back in her grandmother's living room, the cheery firelight a disorienting contrast to the place of death and darkness she'd left behind.

"Wait, we have to go back in," Ava hissed.

"That's the end of it, Ava. There's nothing to go back to," Lena said gently.

"They're looking for Lucas!" Ava said.

"Lucas is with Taylah," Owen said, his tone soothing, "and she's had a decade of experience evading the Makhai."

Owen was right. But she couldn't shake the memory of the leader's vicious smile. She didn't want that man anywhere near Lucas.

Shaking her head, Ava focused on something else that was bothering her. "Why was the memory like that? Blurry, tarnished?" She hoped her suspicion was wrong.

"It has been shared between many people. And Todd, its giver, died in the process of transmitting it. He did not have time to share the full memory," Lena replied.

"How did we get it?" Ava scratched at her skin. "Are we torturing people now?"

"No...it was willingly given," Lena said.

_Why would a member of the Ares willingly share this memory with the Gaia?_ Ava wondered. "Was that man, Todd, was he working for the Gaia?"

Lena nodded.

Only after a few moments did she realize the full import of her grandmother's words. "My God, did we help him kill that woman?" Ava asked.

Lena didn't answer right away. She went to prod the fire. Finally she spoke, "Any internal strife on the side of the Ares is good for the Gaia. Chaos, as it were, is now our friend."

"But that woman, she was sane, reasonable even!" Ava yelled. "She obviously hated the Makhai and their violence as much as we do! If she was challenging Roger's bid for leadership she might have been open to talks of peace between the orders."

"The Gaia Elders are not decided on peace," Lena said simply. It was clear she disagreed with the Elders. "They are old and they have seen too much violence. They cannot forget and they cannot forgive."

"They're blinded by their bitterness. We need women like Lilith, we need to support them, not destroy them. They are the key to peace between the orders." Ava moved to punch the arm of her chair, pulling up at the last moment, terrified she'd cause the Earth to damage her grandmother's house if it sensed her anger. Sheba roared in sympathy from outside.

"Why would a man like _that_ "—Ava grimaced in disgust—"help the Gaia?"

"We had something he wanted," Lena said.

"Which is?" Ava asked.

"He had a son," Lena said. "A toddler. The birds have taken quite a liking to this little boy."

"No...his son has Gaia powers?" Ava asked.

"We promised the son safekeeping in our Order in return for..." Lena said, trailing off.

_In return for murder_ , Ava finished in her head. "How many are there?" she asked. "How many Ares are secretly repressing what they are? What they feel?"

Owen interjected, "How can they work to destroy us then? These Gaia in disguise?"

"Wait a second," Ava said. "The man, you said he died transmitting the memory..."

"Yes...the Makhai discovered his treachery," Lena said. "And grievously wounded him."

"But his son?" Ava asked.

"Safe," Lena said. "To be raised by a Gaia family far from the United States."

"At least the Elders don't have his blood on their hands as well," Ava spat. At the vitriol in her words, the plant on the mantle snaked a long tentacle around Lena's upper arm, pulling tight. It had mistaken the target of Ava's ire.

"Stop," Ava said, much louder than necessary.

The tentacle retreated. Ava grimaced. "I'm making tea. Anyone want some?"

Nobody answered. Slamming about in the kitchen under the pretense of looking for sugar calmed her, but she was still breathing heavily when she came back into the living room.

"Where's your tea?" Lena asked.

"Tea? Oh right..." Ava shrugged. She had never planned on making tea. "Roger better watch his back. Lilith was right. I'm coming for him." She glared at the houseplant to see if it would once again react to the violence in her tone. But it didn't move, except maybe to tremble under her gaze.

Lena ignored Ava, turning to Owen and saying, "Did you catch it?"

Owen nodded. "Roger's a Makhai leader who doesn't bear the sangstones."

"And that woman, Lilith, didn't know it," Ava said.

"The Makhai bear the sangstones not just as a sign of loyalty," Lena said, "but as a form of control. The Makhai have leverage over one another because they can activate each other's sangstones. And the Ares Elders tolerate the Makhai because they know they have some leverage over them—the Elders do not bear the stones so they can manipulate the sangstones of the Makhai without fearing reprisal."

"So you're saying Roger can go rogue and nobody can stop him," Ava said.

Owen added, "The Ares Elders have no power over him...and they don't even know it."

"And I'll bet he's just terrified his opposition into submission by assassinating that woman." Ava said bitterly. "That man is dangerous."

"Not dangerous, _deadly_ ," Lena corrected. Switching topics abruptly, she said, "Why haven't you been tapping into your powers, Ava?"

"I've tried...

Lena turned to Owen. "What are Ava's tactical weaknesses right now?"

"Well...we've been on the run lately..."

"What are her weaknesses?" Lena repeated insistently.

Owen looked miserable. "I've identified two key faults. Ava has the tendency to panic. She'll make a move that gives her a temporary advantage, but could be dangerous to her or her allies later on."

"Like what?" Ava said.

"Unleashing an earthquake to defeat one attacker," Owen said.

_So Owen knew about what had happened in San Francisco_ , Ava thought.

"And the second fault?" Lena asked.

"She expends too much energy in the initial moments of combat," Owen said. "She lacks the stamina to fight through prolonged engagements. This leads to an overreliance on her strong connection with Gaia. Ava needs to learn self-control, and to apply that control to her powers."

"Why are you doing this?" Ava asked. "Why are you treating me like I'm not here?"

"Because, _Ella_ , you need to practice," Lena snapped. "Would you prefer I got Owen's analysis behind your back? Would that hurt your feelings less? You need to hear this. _You need to protect yourself_."

"What did you just call me?" Ava whispered. Ella was the name of her grandmother's dead sister.

"Can I get you some water, Lena?" Owen asked.

Lena whitened. "Did I...have I..."

"You were telling me I needed to practice my powers," Ava prompted. Suddenly the war between the orders and the politics of the Elders seemed very far away. What mattered was the old woman in front of her who was suddenly lost, frail. Not like the figure who'd sprinted down the steps to her this afternoon.

"Forgive me, love," Lena said. "That wasn't fair. I must be tired. I should...I should get to bed."

There was so much more Ava wanted to tell her grandmother, so much more she wanted to ask. But she didn't want to burden Lena any further. The memory had clearly unnerved her grandmother. Had Lena seen her sister in the murdered Ares woman? Or maybe herself?

Chapter 6

When Ava trudged down to breakfast the next morning Lena announced with forced cheer that they were going on an adventure in the woods. Owen and Natasha were already dressed and cramming picnic baskets with enough food for a small wedding party.

Before Ava could blink the sleep out of her eyes, Lena grabbed her hands and pulled her through the back door. They crossed the clearing separating her grandmother's house from the encroaching forest.

Lena slipped an arm around her granddaughter. "I'm sorry about last night."

"So am I," Ava said. "Do you see her in me? Your sister? The girl who Gaia chose...even though you were the more suitable one? Is that why you're so angry I haven't been practicing?"

"Owen showed you my journal, then?"

In Australia, Lucas had tried to remove one of his own sangstones, causing his body to shut down. Ava had thought she might be able to save him by communicating with Mother Earth and taking on the mantle of the Alpha. To help her prepare, Owen had shown her Lena's journal. Lena's sister, Ella, had been the last Alpha of the Gaia and Lena's journals held some of the only clues on how to unlock the powers of the Alpha. Much of the Alpha lore had been lost over the past two centuries as the numbers and the power of the Gaia diminished.

Ava nodded. "Back in Australia, when I was preparing to meet with Mother Earth."

"I was jealous once of my sister, it's true," Lena said. "Although, I hope you know how much more love than jealousy there was. But no, I don't see her when I look at you. I see bright eyes and profound belief and the kind of charisma that knocks you over. I see someone who could change the course of this tired war, prevent the suffering of untold numbers of humans and animals. Someone who could convince the Elders." She added softly, "Someone who's already convinced me."

A peal of laughter saved Ava from having to reply to her grandmother's words. The praise disoriented her. She was consumed by pride and embarrassment and her skin felt too hot. They turned to find Sheba trying to jump on Owen's back for a piggyback ride.

Natasha was convulsing at the antics.

"I'm strong, Sheba," Owen grunted. "But not that strong. You know who's strong enough? Natasha!" he shouted, pushing the bear gently towards the laughing teen.

"Sheba, come join me, you old ham," Lena called, smiling.

The bear lumbered over and pretended to jump on the older woman's back. Quick as a flash, Lena bent over, surprising Sheba, and balanced the bear's weight. Ava turned around to see if anyone else was seeing what she was.

"Grandma! Be careful!" Ava said.

Sheba was now chuckling helplessly. Lena set her back on the ground and the two embraced. They started forward, walking hand in hand, swinging their arms joyfully like two schoolgirl chums.

Ava soaked in the scene, memorizing it like a squirrel stashing away morsels for a hard winter. These were the things that would sustain her on the journey ahead. Hands grabbed her shoulders and then Natasha had hefted herself onto Ava's back.

"Sheba had the right idea," Natasha said, still laughing.

Ava hooked her arms around her friend's legs, happy to play along. "Should we do a little sprint?"

"Like a human sprint?" Natasha asked. "Or an Alpha sprint?"

"I was thinking of going a little vertical..." Ava said.

"Oh, I s'pose I'm in the mood for adventure today," Natasha said. "Lead on, fair steed!"

Ava shot off into the forest, calling the wind to her back. They were flying, ducking tree branches and jumping fallen limbs. Natasha whooped and screamed. Ava clambered up a tree like a black bear, hand over hand. Turning to her side, she saw that Owen was ascending a neighboring tree—they traded smiles.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Natasha murmured in her ear. But exhilaration seemed to be outweighing terror for the moment. "This is madness."

"Shall I pull a flying squirrel?" Ava asked.

"Nope, absolutely not," Natasha said.

"What do you think, Owen?" Ava called, looking at her friend in the other tree. "Should I pull a flying squirrel? Nat said she's up for a little adventure today."

Ava shifted her weight as if she were going to jump from the tree limb she'd edged out onto.

"Av-aaa," yelled Natasha from her back.

Ava shifted back, saying, "Good, because I haven't mastered the art of flying. It's mostly just slow-motion falling."

Natasha squealed again.

Ava grabbed firmly onto an overhead branch in an effort to make her friend feel more comfortable. "I'm sorry, I promise, I really won't jump."

"No, not that," Natasha said, dismissing Ava's concern and pointing at the ground. "Look!"

Two black bear cubs were creeping, or at least trying to creep, behind Lena and Sheba. They had the fine motor skills of Frisbees on stilts. One kept collapsing sideways without obvious cause. The older woman and the bear gave little hint they realized they were being followed, although they were now walking about a quarter as fast as they'd been moving before.

"I'm dying. Dead, I'm dead," Natasha whispered. "That is the cutest thing I've ever seen."

"Shall we spy on them?" Ava asked, helping her friend down onto the branch so she would have a better vantage point.

"Yes, please," Natasha said eagerly, leaning forward.

"Whoa there, lady, be careful," Ava said and a branch from the limb fastened itself securely over Natasha's lap like a safety bar on a roller coaster. "Tight enough?"

Natasha smiled in response.

One of the bears, the one not prone to collapsing in a sideways heap, took a little running hop and butted its head into Lena's calves, letting out a high-pitched snort.

"Oh no," Lena called to Sheba, "I've been hit."

The older woman pretended to stumble, and then, righting herself, snatched the cub up into a warm embrace. Sheba chuckled and bent down to grab the other cub, who was now mewling sadly behind her.

Lena perched the cub on her hip and it snuggled into her shoulder, clearly familiar with the arrangement. Ava smiled so wide her cheek muscles twinged in protest. It was hard for her to see her grandmother in that big old house sometimes. Ava couldn't shake the image of her alone, puttering from room to room. But now she understood—her grandmother might not have her family close by, but she wasn't alone. Far from it. And now she had Natasha to keep her company as well.

"God, I want a bear cub," Natasha whispered.

Ava frowned. Natasha rolled her eyes. "Dude, I don't even need to be a Gaia to read your thoughts right now. I know, I know—animals are not things we possess." She swung her legs in the air, watching the scene below. "Fine. I don't _want_ a bear cub, I want to respectfully observe a bear cub."

"And to protect and conserve its natural habitat so you can observe those bear cubs in the wild."

"Hey, sister, you're preaching to the choir here. I think we need to get you a bigger soapbox. Oh wait...you're like the most powerful member of the Gaia and everyone is dying to listen to what you have to say."

"It's the dying part I'm worried about," Ava quipped with an empty smile.

" _Ava_." Natasha put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"No, sorry, I ruined it," Ava said. "Let's focus on the bear cubs—that one's licking my grandma's ear very carefully."

Natasha nodded.

"Grammy, have you been forgetting to wash behind your ears?" Ava called down. "That bear has certainly found a treat."

"Life is too short to wash behind your ears!" Lena called back up.

"A woman after my own heart," Ava said to Natasha.

"Life is most definitely too long _not_ to wash behind your ears," Natasha muttered back.

"Meet Bobsey," Lena said, gesturing at the cub in her arms and beaming like a new mom.

"Bobsey? I can't. It's too much..." Natasha whispered.

"Delighted!" Ava yelled down. She turned to her friend. "Want to meet Bobsey in person?"

"I thought you'd never ask." Natasha tried to shimmy down from the branch but the root-seatbelt restrained her.

"Sorry about that," Ava said, as the root disappeared. "Jump on!"

In moments, Natasha and Ava made it safely back to the ground and descended upon Bobsey and her sister like old aunties at a family gathering. They cooed and petted and were welcomed in return with licks and sniffs. Owen, meanwhile, was holding Bobsey's sister, Georgia, in his arms. She had stuck her head under his shirt and seemed about ready to call it a day.

Sheba stared jealously at Owen's charge.

Ava turned to the bear. "Are these your nieces?"

Sheba nodded.

"No way. I didn't think Paula would ever have kids. There were always greener fields, sweeter honey, and more naïve campers to 'borrow' from..."

Sheba shrugged, her attention still focused on the bump protruding from Owen's chest. Owen noticed her gaze and dutifully returned the now slumbering bear cub to her aunt. He jogged up to Ava, who was striding in front of their small party.

Ava smiled at him. "Lucas will be very disappointed he missed that little domestic scene."

Owen laughed. "Where in the world is that handsome devil?"

"Where indeed?" Ava wondered. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Will you give me a heads-up if you plan on reporting what I say back to the Order? Or should I just assume that everything I tell you is fair game?"

Owen took a long moment before answering. "I'm sorry about last night...when Lena asked me about your weaknesses. I thought it would be more embarrassing if I didn't answer and she kept prodding."

"It's not just that," Ava said.

"I keep the Order apprised of our basic location and plan," Owen said. "It's not like I'm giving them written transcripts of our conversations."

Ava raised an eyebrow at him. "You sure about that?"

"Look, if I'm too vague, or if I don't report back, they'll know I'm keeping something from them and they'll send someone else to follow you. And I promise they won't be half as lax as I've been."

"You? _Lax_?"

"I _did_ listen to you and Lucas when you told me about your harebrained scheme for peace."

"True," Ava admitted. Owen was getting too defensive. What was he keeping from her? She let it lie for the moment.

Lena came up beside them. She pulled Ava away from the group, slowing their pace, until they were walking about fifty feet behind the others.

"So what's with _The Lord of the Rings_ adventure hike?" Ava asked.

Lena wrapped her arm around Ava once more. "Sheba told me about Owen's golden rule. Which means I have only three more days with you, and I want at least one of those days for us to just be grandmother and granddaughter spending time with friends."

"Speaking of Fae women..." Ava said, "tell me more about what Mom's up to. She moved? Did all the dogs go with her? Or is Cleopatra holding down the fort back at our place?"

Owen had given her a basic update on her family during their circuitous journey from Australia. She knew they were safe but she didn't know much more than that.

Lena was suddenly very busy staring at a leaf. "Look, it's a praying mantis. Where did the others go? I've been telling Natasha about these gorgeous critters."

Ava peered ahead, but the others had disappeared into the trees. "I don't see them." Ava bent down to study the green insect. "So about Mom, tell me more."

Lena sighed. "Your mother has been...promoted."

"Really?" Much like Owen, her mother was devoted to the Order but, unlike Owen, she'd never been the most powerful or skilled fighter. "That's incredible. Did they make her a field general?"

"No..." Lena said. "Your mother's an Elder of the Gaia now."

Ava sucked in her breath. "Wait? What? How is that even possible?"

Lena didn't answer.

"Why would they choose Mom and not you?" Ava pressed. "Did you refuse to be elevated to Elder?"

Lena sighed. "The Elders respect, fear me even—I think they see my sister in me—but they don't _like_ me very much right now."

" _Right now_?" Ava said, her stomach clenching. "You mean they're angry at you? Because you told me the truth about the orders? That we weren't always enemies?"

Again Lena didn't answer. It seemed difficult for her to speak ill of the Elders, despite their actions.

" _Cowards_ , they're cowards. They should've told us the truth themselves," Ava said.

"There is...something else," Lena murmured. "They know I gave you the alliance stone."

At her grandmother's words, Ava felt quickly for the necklace in her pocket, the one with a dagger affixed over a miniature Earth. The familiar outline calmed her.

"Is it safe?" Lena asked.

"Yes, of course. I carry it with me always," Ava said.

Lena nodded. Ava could hear her pulse quiet.

"Good—" Lena said.

Ava interrupted, "Is Mom even old enough to be an Elder? I just...I can't..."

"It is _unusual_ ," Lena said.

"You think it has something to do with me?" Ava hoped against hope that her grandmother would say no.

"I think the world is in the process of historic change," Lena said. "You represent a powerful touchstone for what the outcome of that change will look like. It would be imprudent for the Elders to ignore that truth. I think they want as much leverage over you as possible."

"Then they should've put you on the Council." Ava said it flippantly but it was true. She'd always connected more with her emotive, larger-than-life grandmother than her even-keeled mother. "Didn't they think I might suspect something?"

"I'll admit, it was not a very subtle move," Lena said. "But subtlety is not high on the Council's priorities right now...and your mother seems to be enjoying herself."

Ava didn't like the way her grandmother said that last part.

"Oh, Gray Pond!" Ava exclaimed, running to the bank of a small pond, ringed by leafless trees. The bear cubs were splashing away in the far side of the pond while Natasha and Owen cheered them on. "And our apple tree is still here!"

"Yes, you should see it in the summer—it's weighed down in apples. Every time I eat one I think of you." Lena's voice was wistful, her eyes distant.

"I'll be there this summer and we can eat them together," Ava promised quickly, once again unnerved by how lost her grandmother looked. She was distracted by a movement, a rippled image of a woman in the pond they were skirting.

"What's that?" Ava asked sharply, pointing at the water.

Lena startled at Ava's tone, her eyes darting to the indicated spot. "I don't see anything."

Ava thought of the woman in the steam, the one she'd seen at Taylah's the night of the Ares attack. "Do you...do you ever see a woman's face?"

"Everyday...although I try not to look in the mirror _too_ often." Lena smiled.

Ava studied her grandmother's expression. " _You've_ seen Her."

"Gaia? Yes."

"When? How? Do you summon Her? What does it mean?"

Lena put up a hand to halt Ava's rapid-fire questions. "She doesn't reveal Herself often. Less and less as the years pass. And I never saw Her until Ella died. But..."

"But the woman in the lava," Ava said, remembering suddenly the memory Owen had shared with her when her grandmother had summoned a giant avenging angel wrought of fire.

"That was unexpected. I think Gaia must've felt my rage and my terror...we were in one of Her sacred spots for the Ritual of Fire so we were closer to Her. She appeared that day like nothing I'd ever seen before and I doubt I'll ever see again."

"So you couldn't summon Her now?"

"I didn't really summon Her then. She...I'm not sure what you would call it—She keeps tabs on me. Ever since my sister died. I think She misses Ella."

"Gaia? Misses your sister?" _I doubt it_ , Ava added in her head.

"Think how lonely She must be...how much grief She carries."

Ava remembered again Gaia's voice. Her despair. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the images. Of course She was grief-stricken. And She wanted revenge—just like She had the day Lena summoned Her when She'd pointed an accusing finger into the forest and doused the hidden Ares forces in lava. Ava thought of Gaia's obsession with fire. Maybe She really would go through with Her plan.

"What is it, love?"

"I think Gaia might be giving me, us, an ultimatum."

"How so?"

Ava described her fever dreams, the images of volcanoes erupting over and over again.

Lena nodded throughout, her mouth tightening into a thin line.

"I think She's showing us the 'nuclear option,' what will happen if our plans for peace don't succeed. As far as encouragement goes, it's a bit aggressive."

"Nuance is not Her strong suit," Lena agreed, cracking a smile. "So the stage is set and the hourglass turned."

"And I'm seeing phantom women in ponds who are probably just the reflection of my own grandmother."

"We have a problem, Ava," Lena said.

"Just one?"

"I told you last night that the Elders are not set on peace. The truth is graver still. Many on the Council see the Ares' internal divisions as an opportunity to gain ground in our war against them. They're pushing for more aggressive tactics. If they caught wind of Gaia's 'nuclear option' they might even welcome it. I would keep your visions to yourself until you have confirmation of Gaia's intentions."

Ava nodded agreement. "That is utter insanity. We're outnumbered ten to one. Twenty to one. Is Mom talking sense into the Elders?"

Lena looked away.

"I must go to her. To the Council," Ava said.

"Yes, but not without greater control of your powers. Many will not like what you have to say and they'll try to discredit you, say you're not a true Alpha. As long as you are not in full control you'll be vulnerable to their attacks."

"Great, so I have to convince Gaia _not_ to trigger a volcanic apocalypse and then convince the Council of Elders _to_ make peace with the Ares. Perfect. Good thing I totally, absolutely, definitely know how to get more control of my powers."

"Don't forget, love, Gaia needs you almost as much as the Order does. You are Her translator, Her protector, Her strategist. She is probably trying to communicate something to you."

"But what does it mean when She appears? How can I help Her if I don't understand? How will I know if She needs something? Or if I can count on Her to morph into some kind of crazy lava demoness when I'm in trouble?"

"Look at Natasha," Lena said.

Ava glanced back at her friend. Natasha was playing an unsuccessful game of leapfrog with one of the bear cubs. Mostly the cub was climbing up her back and sliding down again. Her hair was mussed and she was covered in dirt.

"She's trying to understand what we feel as members of the Gaia. And it's agonizing for her."

Ava raised an eyebrow. "Oh _really_?"

Lena smiled. "Ok, _this_ part isn't agonizing. But she's told me it feels like a phantom limb. She knows it's possible to have this connection with the natural world but she doesn't feel it. I've stumbled upon her red-faced and sweating in concentration by the old oak out back. She's trying, with every fiber of her being. She's in the muck. I think it's time to get a little dirty yourself. Make yourself vulnerable."

Ava nodded. "There might be another option."

Ava explained Taylah's suggestion about finding Keegitah, her old friend from Canada. She left out the fact that Lucas's mother had drugged her, and the strange dream with the blackberry bushes. And she definitely left out the part about Taylah binding Ava to her will, for fear that her grandmother might track the other woman down and go all fire goddess on her.

"Taylah thinks the stories might be key in helping me understand Gaia," Ava finished.

Lena nodded, saying warmly, "I like the sound of this Taylah."

Ava managed to cover her snort with a faux sneeze. "You two have a lot in common. Tea. You both really like your tea _strong_."

"I think Taylah's idea has real promise. Ella and I were just making it up as we went along. Nobody knew how to deal with an Alpha. Everything had gone topsy-turvy by then, the Gaia and Ares had gone from ancient allies to the brink of war in little more than a century. And the world was already at war—it was a confusing, frantic time. And then suddenly...there was no Alpha and no need to learn more."

Ava snaked an arm around her grandmother's waist.

"You know I think the Elders have kept me out here, isolated, as a guide in case another Alpha was born," Lena said. "I'm the closest thing we have to institutional memory. Well, me and my journal."

"I thought you stayed out here by choice?"

"Choice looks a lot different as you get older, love. There's not as much... _room_ in your choices as you'd thought there'd be."

"That is a classically ambiguous grandma answer." Ava smiled at the older woman. "Speaking of choices—do you think I should go? To Canada?"

"Yes."

Ava waited patiently. When her grandmother didn't say anything else, she prompted, "Yes, and..."

"Let's catch up with the others," Lena said, hurrying forward.

Ava heard Natasha and Owen laughing before she saw them, carousing among the trees.

"Oh, we made it," Lena said, clapping her hands together. "Just in time for lunch."

The forest had opened up to a small meadow. Skirting the meadow in a perfect semi-circle was what looked like a giant snarled bird's nest. The effect was eerie, especially now that the sun had hidden itself behind the clouds.

Ava's stomach muscles tensed. "What is this place?"

"Even I know what these are, silly," Natasha teased.

Lena walked to the edge of the semi-circle, nodding and smiling as she examined the tangle of brush. "I've had a little craving for blackberry jam."

"Blackberry bushes?" Ava asked, thinking about her dream. "But the blackberries aren't in season. It's far too early." The others had joined Lena in the clearing, but Ava hung back, unable to escape the shadow of her dream.

"Don't you see, love? You are a season unto yourself," Lena said, as if that were the greatest compliment.

Ava ground her teeth, forcing a smile onto her face. "So should I just wave my fairy wand and the berries will appear?"

"Something like that," Lena answered. "Come and see for yourself."

Ava didn't move. Instead she closed her eyes and waved her hands in exaggerated figure eights. "Trouble...trouble...toil...and double...berries, we call you—be _reborn_!"

Natasha cackled, but the laugh died in her throat.

Ava sighed heavily and cracked one eye open to see what had startled her friend. "Don't tell me...that actually worked?"

She found the bear cubs jumping in delight at the clusters of jeweled fruit now hanging from the bushes.

"Did I do that?" Ava asked.

"No, _I_ did that," Lena said crisply. "Your fairy wand didn't seem to be working."

Clearly her grandmother didn't think she was taking her responsibilities seriously enough. And this time, she had a point. Ava didn't want to ruin this rare grandmother-granddaughter day, so she forced herself into the clearing despite her misgivings. The dream had shown her being bloodied while picking blackberries, so she just wouldn't go anywhere near the bushes.

"So what did we bring for vittles?" Ava asked, forcing a note of pep into her voice. It waivered there flimsily.

"What _didn't_ we bring?" Natasha said, ever boisterous. "Owen, is now a good time to break out our little surprise?"

Ava tried not to stare at the look exchanged between the teens.

Sheba indicated with a noise between a growl and a snort that now _was_ a good time to break out the surprise.

"I'll let you do the honors," Owen said to Natasha.

_Of course he would_ , Ava thought.

Natasha pulled open the lids of one of the picnic baskets with a flourish, gesturing for Ava to look inside.

There was a pile of pancakes, some toast, what looked to be a loaded veggie burger, and some other carbs. Ava struggled to understand the joke. Both Natasha and Owen were looking at her expectantly.

Finally it clicked. "You guys made diner fooood," Ava said, drawing out the last few words in appreciation.

"Did you see these?" Natasha asked, pulling out a container of tater tots.

At the sight of the tater tots Ava felt a jolt of longing. The last time she'd had tater tots was at Olga's Diner. Lucas had just saved her life. Well, she had saved his life and he had immediately returned the favor. She pushed the memory away and grabbed a handful of fried potatoes. "You guys are the best."

The blast of savory carbs lightened her mood. "Salt and grease! Salt and grease! Grease and salt!" Ava chanted, pumping her fist in the air and trying to get the bear cubs to join in. They had abandoned their attempts to grasp berries dangling just out of reach and were now sniffing excitedly at the diner food.

Lena shook her head in mock dismay.

Ava, Owen, and Natasha ate in silence for a few moments, laughing as the cubs tried different foods for the first time. Natasha munched on a French fry. "Hey, let's test out my idea. About breaking the—"

Ava shook her head quickly, attempting to warn her friend—Lena didn't know about the binding. And her grandmother could never know or all hell would break loose. Ava glanced over her shoulder to see if her grandmother had taken any interest in the conversation but Lena was nowhere to be found.

"Where'd she go?" Ava asked.

Owen shrugged. Sheba was gone too.

"So, let's test out my idea," Natasha said.

"What idea?" Owen asked. He looked skeptical, which was fair. Whenever Ava or Lucas had proposed an idea in the last several weeks it had been a bad one.

Natasha explained what she'd suggested to Ava earlier—that it was Ava's own fear trapping her and that if she could shift her perception of danger she might be able to outsmart Taylah's binding.

Owen nodded excitedly while Natasha spoke. "Natasha's right, it's only an amplification of social obligation—so it feeds off _your_ own emotions and perceptions." He turned to Ava. "All you have to do is control how you perceive fear!"

"Oh, is that all?" Ava asked dryly.

Owen ignored her. He was grinning, even wider than the bear cub who had managed to fish a cookie the size of her head out of the picnic basket. Of course, Ava understood now, this was a way for him to atone for helping Taylah create the binding.

"I need to feel like I'm in danger and my friends are in danger," Ava said.

They glanced between themselves and the cubs.

Owen summoned the two bear cubs into a huddle and held a whispered conversation. After a moment, they broke form. Owen brandished a piece of pizza at Natasha while the bear cubs turned to Ava. They reared up on their back paws and waved their arms at her, attempting to snarl.

"Was that a hiccup, did you just hiccup?" Ava teased the littler cub, giggling.

The bear cub pawed at her eyes in shame and Ava tried to stifle her laughter.

The one who had not hiccupped tried to do the scaring all by herself. She waved her paws above her head aggressively before tottering backwards and collapsing into a heap of tangled limbs.

Ava couldn't stop herself, she howled, clutching her stomach in mirth. Natasha shook in silent laughter, wiping away tears. Even Owen was helpless against his amusement.

The bear cubs clung to each other, hanging their heads.

Owen cleared his throat loudly. Ava and Natasha looked at him expectantly and he nodded his head at the downcast animals.

"What did we miss?" came the lyrical voice of Lena. "What've you done to the poor babes?" She set down the pails she was carrying and scooped Bobsey into her arms, clucking at her affectionately.

Ava coaxed Georgia over to her with a bit of pancake and scratched behind her ears. "Sorry," she whispered, "you'll be terrifying one day, I promise. Just look at your Auntie." Ava gestured at Sheba. The cub purred and pressed her head against Ava's palm for more scratches.

"Where'd you two go?" Ava asked.

"Sheba had to show me something," Lena said. She rubbed her hands together. "Ok, let's make some jam. Whoever picks the most blackberries gets...what should they get, Sheba?"

The bear leaned over to whisper something in Lena's ear and the older woman's eyes lit up. "Whoever picks the most blackberries gets a bear hug from Sheba. A bear hug from a bear—you haven't truly lived until you've had one of those."

Owen shot up from his seat. "That bear hug is mine!"

Natasha was next, running to a patch a little further down from Owen and plucking at the fruit with surgical precision. "No fair, Owen's turning the thorns away from his hands."

Lena nodded and called, "With such an important prize at stake, we need a fair fight. Owen, no tricks." She turned to Ava, who was still camped out next to the picnic basket. "Don't you want a Sheba hug?"

Ava either had to confess her childish fear of the dream or join the blackberry picking frenzy. She stood, brushing dirt off her pants, and shuffled over to another patch.

They laughed and taunted one another as they picked. Somebody started blasting early nineties hip-hop and Sheba led the little bears in a dance. Ava smiled lazily, enjoying the warm sun on her back and the taste of fresh blackberries, but something was off. They were all trying a little too hard, like they wanted the day to be really fun and memorable and loving. She felt like a boa constrictor squeezing memories and meaning from the passing moments.

The cubs wove in and out of their legs, scampering for berries nudged loose by their taller companions.

"Oh, Bobsey, I found a beauty," Ava called over her shoulder as she stretched onto her tippy toes to reach a particularly tempting cluster of purple berries. Something bumped into her calves; Bobsey had charged her in excitement, and she stumbled forward, reaching her hands out instinctively to steady herself. Without thinking she grabbed hold of a branch for support and felt the thorns slice into her palm. She pulled away but couldn't stifle a cry at what she saw. Her hands were covered in blood. She shivered and turned to find the others staring at her expectantly.

"Are you alright, love?" Lena said.

Trembling, Ava held up her hands to the group, palms out, so they could see the blood.

"Do you need a handkerchief?" Lena asked cheerfully. "I'm afraid juice is an occupational hazard for jammers. The stains are dreadfully stubborn."

Ava blinked. Why was her grandmother not taking her blood-soaked hands seriously? She looked down. Her hands were stained not crimson but indigo. There was nothing on her palms but juice from crushed fruit and a hairline cut. But she could've sworn she'd seen the blood, viscous and clinging. It was the same moment from her dream. But what did it mean? Who's blood did it symbolize—Marama's? Or was it foreshadowing other blood she'd have on her hands?

The worst part was that nobody could see her struggle. To them, her dearest loved ones, she had just picked a few too many overripe berries and needed a handkerchief. The sun was still shining, the hip-hop was still blasting, laughter still rang out around the clearing. But Ava had just seen the death of her friends, family, and followers.

In her mind she fled the cursed clearing and ran screaming and sobbing back to the farmhouse. But she'd been doing too much running the past few months. Something large and black hovered in her periphery. Sheba sidled over, wrapping an arm around Ava and pulling her close. The message was clear— _I see you,_ _I've got you_. Sheba alone of those gathered around had sensed Ava's terror, had understood the day's transformation. The thought made her eyes wet. Ava turned and buried her face in the black bear's fur, struggling to blink back the tears. The others couldn't see her like this, crying over a cut no bigger than an eyelash. They'd lose all faith in their precious "Alpha" and her ludicrous plan for peace.

She was shocked out of this train of thought by something large and wet descending on her face. Sheba's tongue, nearly the size of a shoebox, swiped from chin to forehead.

"Blergh," Ava spat, shaking her head.

Sheba turned tail and retreated at lightning speed. Ava smiled and gave chase. It was an obvious ploy by Sheba to distract her. But she wanted to be distracted, from the shortsightedness of the Gaia Elders, the erratic actions of Mother Earth, and the terrible image of her hands covered in blood.

Eventually Sheba let Ava catch her and, in a sign of the day coming full circle, offered to give Ava a piggyback ride home. That ride, clutching at Sheba's sloping shoulders, Ava took her first deep breaths of the day. Her chin nestled in black fur, she realized how much she missed her own constant animal companion, a golden retriever the size of a small piano. Cleopatra. The dog had smothered her loneliness when her mother had disappeared for weeks on end, had investigated strange noises in the night, had licked and fussed over and cuddled Ava. She had kept her sane throughout the disorienting process of growing up a Gaia child among humans who could never know her secret. Here, in Maine, she was so close to Cleo. But she could already hear Owen's response in her head if she asked about visiting her canine friend— _absolutely not_. And she was forbidden from sending any messages to friends, family, oversized golden retrievers—too easy for the Makhai to intercept.

Sheba's rhythmic tread through the forest was hypnotizing. Ava hadn't been sleeping well, fearful of more bad dreams. Her eyes fluttered closed, and like a tired child, she let her head loll on Sheba's shoulder.

Chapter 7

At the creak of old wood, Ava sat up in bed. She listened for a moment, smiling when she recognized the careful footsteps of her grandmother. Yesterday, after Sheba had deposited her back at the farmhouse, they'd had an uneventful dinner and spent the rest of the evening around the fire trading stories and catching up. Today would be Ava and Owen's last full day at the farmhouse, and Ava wanted to catch her grandmother for her pre-dawn tea ritual. It was a sacred time for the two of them. The darkness, the grogginess, the whispered conversation had always made it seem like those moments existed outside of normal time and space.

She threw on her clothes and crept down the stairs, saying a silent hello to the moon out the landing window.

Her grandmother's smile when she entered the kitchen was the best moment of her visit so far.

"I hope I didn't wake you, dear," Lena said, trying to sound repentant, but the effect was somewhat diminished by the smile still lighting up her face.

"I was listening for your footsteps," Ava admitted. "I wasn't sure if you still got up before the birds."

"Always before the birds. I find the moon and I spend more time than ever together these days."

"Careful, or the sun will get jealous," Ava quipped, but she was troubled by her grandmother's answer. "Can't sleep?"

"Ah, sleep. Yes. Too many visitors come to me when I'm sleeping, visitors I'd rather not see."

Ava didn't push. Changing the subject, she asked, "Peppermint or jasmine?"

"Rooibos actually," Lena said dryly. "It makes me feel like I'm living on the edge. Mixing up my morning tea."

"Rooibos it is. Although I'm not sure how I feel about my grandmother being more daring than I am."

"The old have nothing to lose. Why not dare? Just last week I made jam without properly sterilizing my mason jars."

"Grand-ma," Ava groaned. _You have a lot to lose_ , _you are loved_ , she added in her head, but she wasn't brave enough to say it aloud. She wondered if her grandmother had been underplaying how much the Elders' censure had affected her.

The teakettle whistled. Ava prepared the tea and handed a mug to her grandmother, who had settled in at the kitchen table. She was staring out at the moon, a faraway look in her eyes.

"Can I see it?"

"The alliance stone?" Ava asked, trying not to look surprised.

Lena nodded. The motion was eager, aggressive. Her grandmother's expression was that of a child watching a birthday cake being sliced into pieces. She reached a hand out to Ava.

"Ok, Bilbo Baggins, sure," Ava said.

Lena smiled, but didn't pull her hand away.

Ava drew the necklace out of her pocket. She studied it for a moment—admiring the clever artistry that had so seamlessly fused rock Earth and metal dagger.

Lena grasped the necklace and held it up in front of the light, her whole manner relaxing. After a moment, her eyes darkened.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Lena hissed. "Do you think I've gone soft in my old age? What have you done with it?"

"What? Grandma, are you—"

Lena jumped up, knocking her chair to the floor, and pointed accusingly at her granddaughter. "What have you done with the real alliance stone?" she thundered, enunciating every word.

For a terrifying moment Ava saw not her kind, sweet grandmother but the fierce-eyed Gaia warrior who had ridden an Amazon wrought of lava into battle against the Ares. She wished suddenly that they weren't alone, that the rest of the house was not asleep.

"The _real_ alliance stone?" Ava sputtered, still bewildered. "Grandma, I'm sorry...but...I think you're confused."

Lena's face was still drawn in fury. "I may be old, my sight may be fading, but my heart beats just as strong as it ever did, and every beat is screaming of treachery."

Ava sat stock still, beset by a creeping sense of vertigo. Her grandmother was so certain—what if she _had_ been duped? But who could've possibly taken...the answer hit her like an elbow to the face. She slumped in her chair, drawing in on herself as if to make herself a smaller target for the coming rage.

"Oh, child, you've been a fool. The Ares boy? Lucas. Has he taken it?"

Still clinging to a last thread of hope that her grandmother was wrong, Ava asked tentatively, "May I see it?"

Her grandmother merely handed the necklace over but Ava flinched, feeling like she'd thrown it at her, so intense was the wall of anger expanding from her chest.

Ava squeezed the metal pendant, waiting for the familiar warmth, at turns menacing and comforting. She squeezed again, so hard she felt jagged metal pushing into soft skin. But it didn't come.

Lena turned away from her. The shame Ava felt was not the kind that made her cheeks flush prettily. It was the kind that crawled down her throat, down into her stomach, and settled there like a feral cat, as if it might never leave. She waited for her grandmother to speak first, her self-loathing growing with every passing moment of silence.

After a few moments, Lena said, "I fought for you. Made excuses to your mother, to the Elders, for your recklessness. Argued that your instinct had been correct—that you'd been right to build a relationship with the Ares boy."

She righted the chair she'd knocked over and leaned on it heavily. "After you disappeared, it was terrible—it was an inquisition. The Elders wanted to know how they'd let the Alpha slip through their fingers. With the son of the leader of the Makhai no less. When it came out that I'd helped you, that I knew about the boy...I thought they might exile me from the Order. Strip my powers. And then they found out about the necklace...that I'd given you the alliance stone...I thought Elder Roy was going to hit me...Sheba almost bit off a piece of his ear."

Sheba grunted from outside and Ava wondered if her bear friend also loathed her for her stupidity.

"My connection to Gaia is formidable—I'm the sister of the last Alpha—so they didn't go so far as to actually strip my powers. I think they were too afraid. But they made it clear I was no longer welcome at Council meetings...and then they chose my daughter as an Elder. Just to rub salt in the wound. They still need me; they know that. And they might fear me. Respect me. But they no longer welcome me," Lena said, her voice breaking.

Ava drew her neck in like a turtle, desperate to escape her grandmother's pain.

"Natasha's been such a comfort...and the twins, they've kept me happy. And then there was my belief in you. I told myself it was worth it. To give you a chance at making peace."

There was nothing Ava could say. She'd failed her grandmother utterly. And put her at terrible risk. Members of the Gaia could temporarily shuck their powers, become human for a few hours. But it was a disorienting process. The few Gaia who'd had their powers stripped permanently reported that it felt like having all four limbs amputated. And the Elders had threatened such a fate for her grandmother.

"Tell me, does Lucas have the necklace?" Lena asked.

"I think so," Ava whispered. While her grandmother was speaking Ava had realized when he must have taken it—back at the pond outside of Taylah's house, when she'd shed her clothes to go swimming. Her eyes stung with tears; he must've had the duplicate ready for a good opportunity. He'd probably staged the whole thing, storming out and fleeing to the pond, hoping she might join him. She gulped scalding tea, ignoring the burn.

"I...think he wants to do something good with the—"

Ava stopped, cowed by the force of her grandmother's disdain.

"You must get it back," Lena said simply.

"I will, I promise."

"Now."

"What do—"

"You can go today."

"Grandma...I am so, so sorry. I will find it, I will make this up to you, I swear...but we don't even know where Lucas is. How can I go to him?"

"You'll find a way. After all, you _are_ the Alpha." The words and the vitriol behind them hit Ava like a slap. Her head whipped backwards and suddenly she was in another room with another woman. She looked around frantically for her grandmother—had she just teleported? Had Gaia whisked her away from her grandmother's fury? And then she saw the woman's face half-hidden by a sheet of black hair—Taylah. She tried to lunge at the woman, rage throbbing in her veins. But she couldn't move.

With a jolt, Ava realized she had inadvertently connected with Lucas and was now watching the world through his eyes. Their bond was most potent during moments of emotional turmoil. Lena's rebuke must have fused her to Lucas in some way. _Lucas has the necklace_ , she reminded herself. The thought focused her. She quieted her anger, stilled her pulse, and sharpened her senses. She scanned the strange room slowly, remembering every detail—furniture, photos, painting, knick-knacks—t, furnitu, o parse for clues to Lucas's location later. She didn't know how long they'd be connected and she worked quickly. Taylah was speaking to somebody in another room. A woman's voice responded.

_Come on, come on_ , Ava thought to herself, _show yourself_. She stared at the door expectantly, willing the mystery person to enter. There was a flash of sparkling color—beaded boots—as the mystery woman came into the room. Ava got a split-second glimpse of the newcomer's face before Lucas whispered, "Hello, Ava."

He could feel her there, in his head. That same childhood terror of being suddenly caught in a game of hide-and-seek squeezed her heart. She opened her mouth to respond, only to find herself back in her grandmother's kitchen staring at the still furious Lena.

Eyes widening, Ava realized where she'd seen the mystery woman and her colorfully beaded boots before. "I know where he is—Lucas. I can get the necklace back!"

Lena shook her head in confusion. As far as her grandmother knew Ava had been sitting in front of her the whole time. The confusion seemed to disorient her grandmother, to shock her out of her anger. Without the anger to sustain her, she looked lost. She took a half step toward the stove, murmuring vaguely, "Tea. Should I make us some tea?" She no longer looked like the imposing Gaia warrior; now she was an elderly woman with deep bags under her eyes, too troubled by the ghosts of her past to sleep.

Ava thought she might prefer the ferocious, condemnatory version of her grandmother.

"Grandma," she said, pitching her voice to be as reassuring as possible, "I was... _connected_ to Lucas for a moment just now and I saw a woman, Keegitah. The same one Taylah wanted me to find. The one who might be able to guide me in how to communicate with Gaia. They're in Canada, they _have_ to be."

The confusion receded from Lena's eyes.

"I should go, _today_ , like you were saying," Ava prompted.

"Right, I'll wake Owen," Lena said, and Ava relaxed at Lena's new tone—calm and efficient. Her grandmother was back. "You should say your goodbyes," Lena added brusquely.

Ava nodded, already heading towards the stairs and her sleeping best friend.

When she got to the guest bedroom where Natasha was staying, she paused outside to collect herself. If she burst into Natasha's bedroom before dawn fueled by anxiety and self-loathing it would not be a pretty goodbye. The whimpering snore of her friend made her smile. She pushed the door in, creeping over to gently shake her friend. She knew from long experience that Natasha had a full variety of snores; the whimpering version meant her friend was in a deep slumber. She shook a little harder.

The creak of wood drew her attention to the door and when she turned back Natasha was sitting up in bed brandishing a hammer. Ava jerked her head backwards in surprise.

"Oh, sorry, it's you," Natasha said, blinking blearily.

"Why do you have that hammer?"

"There _is_ a war going on."

Ava nodded, trying not to smile. "Anything else under that pillow? Pepper spray? Kitchen knife? Spear?"

"No, just Ace."

Ace, presumably, was the name of the hammer.

"Isn't it uncomfortable to sleep on?" Ava asked.

"Obviously I don't sleep _on_ the hammer."

" _Obviously_."

"Wait a second. What time is it? Why'd you do the creeper wake up? Does Lena want to go on another adventure hike?" Natasha asked the last part with a groan. "I'm not sure how much longer I can pretend to like hiking."

Ava paused, struggling to find the most positive way to frame this morning's events so as not to alarm her friend. "I discovered something. Something really important."

Natasha grinned sleepily, lifting her hand for a high five. "Good job, Alpha Queen! And they say you're not ready to be the leader of your Order."

Ava squirmed at the praise, but lapped up the belief and affection in Natasha's tone.

"Thank you," Ava said. "That's the good news. The bad news is we have to leave."

"Today?"

"Now, actually. Otherwise I'd never risk waking you in the midst of your whimper snoring."

Natasha nudged Ava affectionately. "I don't know what you're talking about. I do _not_ snore. You must have super enhanced Gaia hearing or something, which makes my very dainty and very normal breathing sound like snoring. Must suck to have bat ears."

"Right. It's the bat ears." Ava grinned. "I'm pretty sure I could hear that snoring with the ears of a butterfly."

Natasha snorted indignantly, mumbling, "Butterflies don't have ears. Do they?"

Despite the bluster, Natasha pulled back the covers and gestured for Ava to scoot in beside her. They leaned into one another, saying nothing. They'd curled up like this, exchanging secrets late into the night, on a hundred different sleepovers. Every time Ava had wanted to tell her best friend the biggest secret of all. To take Natasha's bedside plant and make it bloom bright and sweet. Or invite the birds to swoop through her window and join them in their late night escapades. Now, finally, she relished their closeness. Natasha not only knew her secret, she wanted to be a part of her world. The thought was the perfect antidote to this morning's interaction with her grandmother.

They stayed like that so long Ava felt her eyelids begin to flutter. Finally, Natasha whispered, "Can I come?"

"Come where?" Ava mumbled sleepily and then realized with a gulp—Natasha wanted to come on the mission. She was about to dismiss her friend out of hand, but she remembered Owen's insight from her grandmother's journal: to fully realize her potential as the Alpha she would have to explore her human side. Maybe Natasha could help with that.

Natasha seized on Ava's hesitation, adding, "I can help. Like I did with Taylah's binding."

Not wanting to address the deeper issues, Ava parried, "We don't know if that worked yet."

"It will," Natasha replied stubbornly. "I can be...your fresh set of eyes. Or water girl. Or ball girl. Or navigator. Or getaway driver..."

"Hmm...you do already drive like a getaway driver," Ava said, using the joke as cover for how much her friend's offer meant to her. "I'll talk to Owen."

" _Boo_. Mr. Boy Scout will never let me join in the fun."

"Only because he wants to protect you."

"I know, I know, but still..."

Owen poked his head into the room, asking, "You two ready for breakfast? Lena and I are making blackberry pancakes...and blackberry waffles...and blackberry jam..."

"Sure, we'll be right down," Ava answered quickly.

"Great. And for the record, I was never in the Boy Scouts—I couldn't deal with the little neck ties," Owen said, before disappearing.

Natasha blushed. Even in the darkness of the room Ava could see the heat in her friend's cheeks

"Let's go," Ava said, pulling her friend up before she could be consumed by embarrassment. They strode down the stairs together.

The table was laden with a purple bounty. Owen ate heartily and methodically. Natasha pushed at her food. Lena hadn't even bothered to make herself a plate. She was also refusing to look at Ava, which was, more than anything, a relief. Ava had hesitated at first, still wary of anything to do with the berries and her strange vision. Then she forced herself to eat an entire pancake in one bite as penance for her illogical anxiety. Now her stomach gurgled in protest. She excused herself, wandering into the living room.

The furniture in her grandmother's house was spare, practical. All except the living room couch, which was twice the size of a normal couch and currently occupied by a very large, very furry black bear.

Ava paused awkwardly at the sight of Sheba. But Sheba motioned for Ava to join her.

Ava perched on the edge of a cushion. "Will you do me a favor, Sheba?"

The bear grunted ascent.

"Will you tell Cleopatra I'm safe? And...that I miss her?"

Sheba nodded, clasping Ava's shoulder with a massive paw. Ava leaned into the touch. "Thank you, old friend."

"Ava, may I talk to you?"

Ava startled at the sound of her grandmother's voice; Lena glided around the house as silently as a cat. Her grandmother was staring at the affectionate exchange between girl and bear.

Ava nodded, wondering which version of her grandmother she was about to see. Lena led her to the porch. She didn't seem to be in any rush to speak and Ava felt too chastened from earlier to break the silence. Faint rays of light spilled over the horizon—the sun's scouts presaging her arrival. Ava imagined the moon blinking in dismay at having to cede the sky to her radiant sister.

"Brother sun and sister moon dancing together for a moment in the sky..." Lena said.

"I think of them as two sisters," Ava replied, grateful for a less emotionally fraught conversation.

"Really? Maybe you get that from me. Two sisters—seemingly so close and yet so interminably far from one another." Lena paused, playing with a simple ring on her index finger. "My anger this morning...it wasn't all for you."

Ava nodded.

Lena added sharply, "Some of that anger was... _is_ deserved. More than deserved. Your actions could have untold consequences. The Elders will never listen to you if they find out you've lost the necklace, and without the Elders there can be no peace.

"Despite this misstep, you have proven yourself time and again to be all the things we should want in an Alpha—empathetic, courageous, strong, and fair. _I still believe in you."_

Ava pulled her grandmother into a hug. Sheba roared in approval from the living room.

When they parted, Lena held Ava at arms' length. "I owe you an explanation and an apology for what you saw this morning. I was not feeling myself."

"The ghosts aren't just haunting your sleep, are they? How often is it happening, Grandma? The confusion."

Lena didn't answer right away. "It's been better since Natasha arrived. I think she grounds me. Locks me in the present, where I belong."

"Do you see Ella, your sister?"

"All the time now. Yesterday when you asked me if I was seeing a woman's face, I thought you knew. I thought you could tell that I was...failing."

"You're not—"

"You're so much alike, you know. I can see it, now that Ella is back with me in a way. Impetuous. Headstrong. Blinded by affection, by _love_." There was still a bite to Lena's tone for that last part. "What do you think he wants with the necklace?"

"You can call him Lucas."

"Fine. Why did _Lucas_ steal the alliance stone?"

"I know what he wants," Ava said, shaking her head at her own blindness. "He told Owen and me what he wanted to do with it. But we wouldn't let him. I should've realized he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He thinks the alliance stone can help find the other teens who disappeared the same night I did. There's a bunch of them still out there, at the mercy of the Makhai."

Lena nodded. "And can it?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't want to try anything, not when I had so little control over my powers...the one time I got a response out of the necklace—"

"You activated the necklace?" Lena interjected, her voice rising.

"Well...yes. Although it was kind of an accident. And it didn't go very well."

" _Tell me_ ," her grandmother said.

"I'd taken Lucas to Serpent Canyon—I was hoping the rapids might catalyze his Gaia powers—and we were being supported by a column of water. While I was holding the necklace in my pocket Lucas slid and knocked into me. There was this sonic boom and then the water shot us hundreds of feet into the air. As we rose, the water began to boil and steam. I was helpless, sick and disoriented from the way the water had betrayed me. There was a moment when we were falling, dropping through the air like bricks, where I thought that might be it. But Lucas saved us." Ava noticed too late the affection that had crept into her voice.

But Lena didn't seem to notice; she was a woman obsessed.

"And?" Lena asked insistently.

" _And_? And I was too afraid to use the necklace again after that little near-death experience."

Lena mused, "From what we know, the stone is supposed to act to channel or magnify power—"

"Lucas and I...when we touched, we'd burn each other...apparently Lucas's sangstones were driving Mother Earth crazy—"

"Owen told me."

"Right, of course he did."

"Just me. Not the Elders."

" _Oh_ ," Ava said, taken aback.

Lena continued, "So maybe the alliance stone magnified the rage Gaia felt when you and Lucas touched and that's why you were catapulted into the air."

"You look positively gleeful," Ava said.

"You don't understand; _you've_ done it. You've gotten the alliance stone to respond to you."

"If by respond you mean, almost kill me, then yes, that's what I've done."

"No, love, you're not seeing it. The mystery of how to tap into the alliance stone's potential has bedeviled the Elders for more than a century. The Gaia have precious few alliance stones in our possession. The Elders can feel the force within; they've found traces of the stones' tremendous power hidden in ancient texts. But nobody's been able to activate them. If the Elders find out that the stone has spoken to you...your reputation in the Order will be fully restored. Beyond restored— _the Alpha who can speak to the stone_."

Lena was breathless with excitement. Ava was not the only one whose reputation would be restored if Ava could return with the necklace and unlock its secrets.

"When you say nobody's been able to activate an alliance stone..."

"They've tried everything—heating it, freezing it. Having two people work to wield it in tandem. Ten people. The full Council of Elders. Using a Lifetree to draw out its powers...What's so funny?" Lena asked as Ava's dimples deepened.

"You told me that once there were alliance stones spread across the world, a signifier of safe haven for Ares and Gaia to meet. They even gave the legend of King Arthur and the Sword in the Stone early credence. I was thinking of that legend, how only a true king could pull the sword from the stone—"

Lena smiled. " _Yes_ , that's right. You are Arthur; you've done what all others failed to do, pulling your own Excalibur from the stone. The necklace responds to you and you alone." Her smile faltered. "I shouldn't keep you any longer. You _must_ find Lucas. Reclaim the necklace. _It's your birthright_."

Ava nodded solemnly. "And the woman, Keegitah, she's with Lucas. I think she can help me understand my powers, understand the power of the necklace."

"Yes," Lena said. "It is no accident Lucas, the necklace, and Keegitah are all together. Find one, find them all. Learn as much as you can...There is one other thing. If Lucas is trying to use the necklace, he may be drawing unwanted attention to himself."

Ava's anger at Lucas turned swiftly to fear. "I'll find him." In her head she repeated the vow; she would not leave Lucas vulnerable to attack. Ava gripped her grandmother's forearm. "I'm so sorry. I swear I'll make this right."

Lena didn't say anything, but Ava felt the belief radiating from her grandmother, strong and steady.

"You won't be alone. The Elders may not be decided on peace but there are many Gaia who are. The rank and file members are beleaguered. They've lost too many friends, daughters, sons, partners to the cause. I'll speak to them, rally them to your side. And when I hear word of your return I'll demand the Elders convene a Council so you can speak."

The prospect made Ava's stomach tighten another agonizing inch. "Natasha thinks she can be of use on the mission, be fresh eyes."

Lena couldn't hide her dismay. Ava's stomach threatened to twist itself even further.

"Of course Owen would never let her come," Ava added hurriedly, not wanting to cause her grandmother any more pain for the day.

"It's not up to him," Lena said. "You are the Alpha."

Ava remembered the bitterness imbued in that phrase when her grandmother had said it earlier in the morning. This time she heard nothing but truth and maybe, just maybe, a hint of pride. She pictured the road trip with Natasha, filled with rainbow candies, bad radio sing-alongs, and laughter. Then she saw again her palms covered in clinging, sticky crimson. She could never risk having Natasha's blood on her hands.

Chapter 8

The goodbyes had been quick, efficient. Owen directed them all with military precision. It had been a relief actually—the coordinated embraces lessening the pain and embarrassment of the partings. There was lingering unease between Ava and her grandmother. She'd tried to hold her grandmother extra tight, as if her embrace might help cement Lena in the present and absolve Ava of the shame of losing the necklace. And then there was the guilt every time she met Natasha's eyes. Owen had played the martyr once again, telling Natasha that he'd forbidden her from accompanying them. But it was clear Natasha knew the truth—Ava had been the one doing the forbidding.

Now, after looping and backtracking to evade any potential followers, Ava and Owen were already in Vermont, churning through a landscape of dark green. She had a sense of déjà vu so intense it was making her head hurt. Once again she was fleeing west, this time not with Lucas but with Owen. The differences between her travelling companions were marked. In place of bad music, bad food, and bad jokes were stoic silences and clinical evasion techniques.

She wasn't sure how much Lena had told Owen about this morning's revelations but she was sure he was judging her. She'd failed again. Shame curled up her legs like a slow-moving fog. By the end of the day she couldn't take it any longer.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? For letting Lucas steal the necklace?"

"You didn't _let_ him steal anything," Owen said forcefully.

Ava straightened in her seat at his unexpected certainty. She noticed Owen's grip on the steering wheel, always tight but now murderously so. She glanced at his jaw; it was twitching as clenched muscles strained in protest.

Owen continued, "Lucas _tricked_ you. He _deceived_ you. How could you have known?" His words crackled with bitterness.

Ava put her hands up in surrender. "Whoa, nelly. Is that bitterness for Lucas? Or for me?"

Owen took a deep breath, loosening his grip on the steering wheel. "Sorry, sorry. But I mean you see it, right?"

"Did...did Lucas just pull an Ava?"

"Lucas asked us to use the alliance stone. He had the best of intentions. But we stonewalled him, also with the best of intentions. So Lucas snuck around and lied to us. Then he stole the necklace so he could go forward with his crazy, dangerous, idealistic plan against the wishes of his nearest and dearest. Even though stealing the necklace might make life very difficult for you and me..."

"Right," Ava murmured, rolling down her window to let the dawn air cool her cheeks. She caught sight of a hawk circling above. "Is this," she said, gesturing vaguely at her chest, "is this how you all felt after the night I disappeared?"

Owen shook his head. "Not exactly. The fear came first—we were so worried about you. Then came the betrayal. There was a lot of bitterness. A lot of 'how could she?'"

Ava fixated on her hawk friend, tracing its dramatic turns and dives. How free it looked.

"But to be honest," Owen said, "I could never really shake my worry for you. That always trumped the betrayal..."

Ava dragged her eyes away from the window to smile at Owen. He'd forgiven her betrayal and been a ferocious advocate and protector—of her and, more amazingly, of Lucas.

"For what it's worth, I think you made the right call," Owen said. "What you did—taking a risk with Lucas? It was worth it. Maybe Lucas made the right call too..."

"Maybe," Ava said darkly. She thought of her grandmother's rage, how scared Lena must feel alone and shunned from her only community, losing her grip on reality. With the necklace gone, it would only get worse for her grandmother—the Elders might strip her of her powers if they found out. And now, Ava had even less leverage to broker peace between the orders. She blamed Lucas for that. The blame was a tangible thing, like an anvil pressing into the skin between her shoulder blades.

They lapsed into silence. The dark green of endless trees was even more a blur than before; Owen had cranked up their speed. Without preamble, Owen turned off the main road, bumped along a smaller road, and parked at the edge of the forest.

"I've got to check on something," he said.

Owen didn't seem alarmed so Ava just shrugged and followed him as he wound his way into the forest. He seemed to be inspecting various trees as they walked further into the woods.

"Can I help you look for anything?" Ava asked, bewildered.

"Found it." He was standing in front of what appeared to be an average tree, a sugar maple if Ava had to guess. It certainly wasn't a Lifetree.

"Look," Owen said, pointing at the ground.

The tree had more roots than Ava had ever seen. They looked like a tangled swarm of electrical cords, poking and twisting in a huge circle at the base of the trunk. Owen stepped carefully through the roots, which quickly withdrew to give him a clear path to the trunk. He set his palm against the bark. Five roots untangled themselves from the pile to wrap around Owen's ankles, wrists, and forehead. They tightened with a creak.

Ava shivered. Owen had once summoned the limbs of a Lifetree to bind her like this. Its roots had woven into an exoskeleton over her body and the timber cage had pushed against her chest, slowly smothering her.

What was Owen doing? She wanted to ask but he looked deep in concentration. After a long moment he looked up and announced, "We're not being followed."

"What? Did the roots just tell you that?" Ava asked, skeptical.

"You've heard of the 'Wood Wide Web?'"

"Yeah, you mean mycelial networks? How trees can communicate with each other through the fungi system linking their roots?"

"And share nutrients with weaker trees to keep them alive for years."

"And that. What I _haven't_ heard of them doing is tracking the Makhai."

"It's something Lena's been working on. She's spent decades out in these forests, getting to know these trees, getting to understand what they fear, what they respond to, how connected they are across long distances. It turns out the trees are excellent observers of their environment—"

Ava interrupted, " _Spies_. Lena has the trees spying for her?" She stared at the mess of roots with new appreciation. She shivered, glad suddenly that she was not a member of the Ares—knowing that any leaf or flower could be witnessing her most intimate moments and sending them pulsing back to those who wished to do her harm.

Owen nodded. "That's one of the reasons she feels so safe out there at the farmhouse, despite being such a high priority target of the Ares. Even the trees are watching out for her."

"Can I try?" Ava asked.

Owen moved his wrist upward instinctively to check his watch—he had their trip planned out to the millisecond. But he stopped the motion abruptly, not even glancing at his watch, and dropped his arm back to his side. That had taken a lot of restraint. Ava smiled.

"Of course," Owen said. "But, just a heads up—the experience can be... _disconcerting_."

Ava remembered the thrill of brushing up against a great white shark in Australia. For a moment she'd felt what the shark felt, tapping into the electromagnetic fields the creatures could sense. She'd known what it was like to be an apex predator.

"Perfect," Ava said, excitement rising in her chest.

Owen gestured for her to place her palm on the trunk and in moments she was bound in timber as Owen had been.

"How does this work again?" she asked nervously, the circlet of wood digging into her forehead.

"So the fungi connect all the roots in the forest, which allows them to trade information."

"Right, I get that part. The fungi are like the little busybodies of the forest and I'm about to tap into all the juicy gossip they're collecting."

"Not exactly."

"What do I do to activa—"

Ava gasped.

As a kid, she'd loved _The_ _Magic School Bus_ books, the ones where the bus would shrink or expand, diving into internal organs, and taking students on a journey through the capillaries or the lungs. The bus was always churning through some bodily fluid or another. Now she felt like she was on a magic school bus of her own.

Everything was dark. It was like hurtling down a water slide but the water was splashing into her face and up her nose, choking her. In a moment the sensation went from annoying to overwhelming. Then it was like trying to push forward against a spraying fire hose. _She was going the wrong way._ Her body hummed with adrenaline. She was angry now, frightened by the crushing sensation and she wanted to fight, to escape. But she forced herself to be still, to let the pressure carry her backwards, and suddenly it was like she was floating on a lazy river. Hesitantly, she submerged her head. Sputtering, she thrust herself back out of the water. Information overloaded her synapses—tastes, scents, atmospheric pressures, weather patterns—information picked up and shared by thousands and thousands of trees joined together. The current called her, inexorable, and she dunked her head once more. She screamed at the onslaught of sensation—water pressures, carbon levels, sunrays. Her head swam and then her world went dark.

* * *

"Ava," Owen said, shaking her gently.

"Not again," she slurred. "Did I pass out again?"

"Everyone passes out their first time in the Wood Wide Web."

Ava tried to raise a skeptical eyebrow, but couldn't quite rally her facial muscles to do her bidding.

"Well _I_ passed out. And Lena said she felt nauseous. And I'm not sure how many other people have entered the Web. So, as I said, _everyone_ passes out their first time."

"Why didn't you warn me?" Ava asked.

Owen shrugged. "Lena told me I had to stop protecting you."

"Did she now?" Ava said. "How could you even make heads or tails of all of that...just _that_?"

"I'm nowhere near as good as Lena. I swear she could tell you how many ladybugs have landed on the sugar maple in the northwest corner of the Smith's farm two hundred miles away from here."

"That is _so_ cool."

"Your grandmother is...it is a great loss to the Gaia that she was not named an Elder."

That was about as close as Owen got to criticizing the Order. Ava nodded at him. "So what are you looking for when you go in there?" Ava asked.

"Over decades, Lena and the trees have been learning from one another. They know what the presence of the Ares tastes like. Feels like. Smells like. And if one tree senses the enemy, it'll release a warning chemical that gets picked up and transmitted to all the other trees in the forest."

"So they _are_ spying. And not only that, they've got an amazing reporting system...what time is it?" Ava asked.

"I've amended the schedule. We've got plenty of time."

"In that case, I'd like to try again."

Owen smiled. "Yes, ma'am." He was already holding the roots out to her.

She didn't pass out on her second try, but she was on the verge of hyperventilating when she opened her eyes. She forced herself to breathe. When she could talk again, she asked, "Could I use the network to broadcast a message?"

"Lena can. But it took her a long time to master it... _Lucas_?" Owen asked.

Ava nodded. "He could be anywhere by now. He knew I'd connected with him, back at the farmhouse, he actually whispered a greeting to me. I think I was so surprised that I launched myself right out of his head. If he doesn't want us to find him..." she trailed off. "But, if I could tell him I wasn't angry, that I wanted to work with him to use the necklace, to save the Star Crossed..."

Owen opened his mouth and then closed it.

"I'm going back in," Ava said, rubbing at the pocket where she'd kept the alliance stone.

An hour later, Ava peeled a sweaty curl off her forehead.

"Again?" Owen asked dubiously.

"No, I think I've had enough of the fungi information highway for the moment."

"It's no Autobahn," Owen said with a grin.

Ava groaned. "Lucas was the one who liked your terrible jokes, not me," she said, but her dimples betrayed her.

"Then let's get that clown back. _Somebody_ needs to appreciate my amazing wit," Owen said.

Ava had completed the last several trips into the Wood Wide Web from the ground. Owen reached down to help her up.

"I can drive a bit more today if you want to nap?" he offered.

Ava nodded in thanks. She could barely keep her eyes open. Lena was not the only one whose sleep was troubled by ghosts. When they made it back to the car, she nestled into the passenger's seat. It took only minutes before sleep pulled her under.

* * *

Ava bolted awake at the touch of a hand on her shoulder.

"Listen," Owen said grimly, gesturing at the radio.

A fourth prominent government official has been found dead in Washington, DC. The police are treating the case as a homicide. Nesreen Leidel was one of the top scientists at the National Institute of Health. Colleagues of Dr. Leidel interviewed today were visibly distraught; many refused to speak to the media. Those that did described her as a brilliant scientist and loving grandmother.

The mysterious deaths have left the entire city on edge. Although police have refused to comment on their investigations, sources are reporting that all four victims were found with knife wounds. For now, there is a palpable sense of unease in the city streets, empty now at just a little after eight PM.

Owen switched the radio off.

"Roger," Ava murmured. "He's killing them. The Ares Elders who've gotten in his way."

She hoped she was wrong but Owen nodded in agreement.

"We, the Gaia, are complicit in their deaths."

"Only _one_ death..." Owen trailed off, wincing at his choice of words. "Yes, we're complicit."

"How can he be so blatant? I mean, this was on public radio. Targeting government officials? He's going to start a world war if he's not careful—stoking fears of foreign agents interfering with our democracy."

"Roger obviously doesn't care about discretion."

"He's not following any of the rules—secrecy, loyalty to his Order. He's a madman. A rogue player."

"Maybe not a madman. But dangerous, very dangerous. He certainly won't have any compunction against taking human lives as collateral damage in our war."

Ava gripped her hands into fists; frost formed on her skin. "I'm so glad Natasha is safe."

"Whoa, cool it over there. Or heat it. We don't need you triggering an earthquake."

"It's not me you have to worry about. It's Gaia. If Roger doesn't play by the rules, Gaia won't either. She'll trigger the volcanic eruptions, especially if She thinks the Ares are allowing human casualties. Why should She hold human life sacred if they don't?"

"Have you been getting the visions again?" Owen asked sharply.

"No," Ava admitted. "But if my rage at the moment is any indication, this guy's gonna make Gaia go ballistic...and the Gaia Elders helped him."

"They didn't _help_ him, they helped sow the seeds of dissension in the Ares ranks."

Ava waved away Owen's words. She didn't want to argue. Instead she turned the radio back on, cranking the pop music to its highest volume and welcoming the oblivion of the generically peppy beat.

Chapter 9

It had been a frustrating twenty-four hours. The radio report on the deaths in Washington, DC had made Owen and Ava antsy. Ava kept emitting puffs of icy air. Canada geese, rattled by Owen and Ava's energy, had dive-bombed their car no fewer than six times. But they still didn't know exactly where they were going.

From the driver's seat, Owen said, "Ok, describe it one more time."

Ava swallowed a fist-sized chunk of gas station pastry. "I've gone through the memory a million times."

Owen's expression didn't change. "So let's do it a million and one. Otherwise our best idea of Lucas's location is 'west.' And Canada. And I know Americans might not give much thought to our neighbors to the north, but Canada is a _big_ country."

Ava sighed, setting her pastry down. "Fine." She crossed her eyes in concentration. "The room they were in looked like a living room. Lucas was sitting on a couch. Taylah was standing in the corner looking anxious. The room was colorful, full of art and houseplants. I remember masks across one wall. The rugs were kind of burnt orange—they really complemented the olive of the walls, if I do say so myself."

Owen groaned but she ignored him. He _had_ asked for all the details.

"And the curtains were kind of a paler green than the walls. Maybe a lime? Chartreuse? I can never remember, is chartreuse green?"

"Curtains? You never mentioned curtains before."

"Yes, there were curtains. With gorgeous draping, if you must know."

"Curtains mean a window," Owen said, his voice rising in excitement. "Think—can you remember what was outside the window?"

Ava frowned, shaking her head. "I was so focused on Taylah." Focused was an understatement. In the split second she'd thought she'd actually teleported into a room with Lucas's mom, she'd tried to lunge at the woman.

"Think, Ava," Owen urged.

"Maybe if we weren't listening to such god-awful music I could concentrate," she said through gritted teeth. "Why can't you like anything from this decade?"

Owen didn't rise to the bait. He switched the radio off, looking at her expectantly.

Ava grimaced. It was too much—the necklace, Lucas, her grandmother, the Elders, Mother Earth. She clenched her jaw. She couldn't cry in front of Owen, not now.

"Want to see something cool?" Owen asked.

"Always."

"Maybe not cool, but..." Owen trailed off, pulling down the collar of his cotton tee.

" _Oh my God_."

Owen had a new tattoo on his chest. It was an alliance stone, the same symbol Gaia had marked into Ava's flesh, and it was in the exact spot of Ava's own scar.

"But... _when_?" Ava asked.

"Lucas and I gave them to each other. The same night the Ares attacked back in Australia. Before everything went to hell, Lucas and I stayed up late into the night chatting and sharing some beers. We were swapping the random perks of being members of our orders and he told me the Ares could control ink—that's why Ares warriors are always covered in tattoos. And we just decided to go for it. The thing with Marama had really unnerved me and I think Lucas wanted to keep me company."

Ava flinched. _Where are you Lucas?_

"Anyway, after a beer or two I suggested the tattoo—kind of as a symbol we were all in this mess together, and Lucas jumped at the idea."

" _You_ suggested it?"

"No need to sound _so_ surprised."

Ava's heart was beating very fast. Owen's alliance stone tattoo was one of the most moving gestures she'd ever seen. It filled her with manic energy—she could do this. _They_ could do this—bring peace to the orders. But the energy dissipated quickly as she remembered.

"That was the same night Lucas stole the necklace. He got that tattoo after he'd already betrayed me in the most profound way possible. It doesn't count."

Owen looked disappointed and Ava chided herself. She still had Owen, completely and utterly devoted to her. "I'm sor—"

Ava rocked forward in her seat so fast she slammed into her seat belt. The belt tore and snapped into the air, useless. "I see it through the window! It's a sign. It's a literal sign, ' _sun'_ "

"Sun?"

"That's the end of the word. I can't see the rest."

"Stay with it," Owen murmured.

"There's a clump of people far in the distance. Young people. Camo _sun_! One of the girls is wearing a sweatshirt with the word Camosun on it!"

"It's a school!" Owen shouted. He leaned into the horn, letting out a long, low bellow.

Other cars started honking at them, more out of protest than mutual excitement, but it just made Ava laugh harder. She and Owen shouted and cheered and honked some more and raised their fists in triumph at the angry drivers.

As the din died down, Ava did a quick search on her phone. "Camosun college, in Victoria, British Columbia...we've got them!"

They high-fived again.

Ava gave Owen an appraising look. "You're very good."

"What do you mean?"

"You've had that tattoo for weeks."

"Yeah?"

"You could've shown it to me at any point and I would have been super jazzed. It's like an insta-mood booster. But you waited. You waited for this moment, when I was tired, frustrated, on the edge of...of who knows what."

Owen just smiled.

"I mean I knew you were good," Ava said. "But now...can I do it?"

"Surprise people with unlikely tattoos?" Owen said. "Absolutely. It's one of the easier things in life, actually."

"Oh I've already got the surprise tattoo thing down," Ava said and then regretted how easily she'd slipped back into flirtatious banter. No need to confuse things anymore than they already were. Folding her arms across her chest, she pressed, "But no, not the tattoo thing. Can I do what you do? Can I be that kind of leader?"

Owen didn't answer right away. Finally he said, "Why do you think I got the tattoo?"

Ava blushed. It was the perfect answer.

Owen continued, "Consider it my version of the political bumper sticker. 'Ava 2020.'"

Ava giggled. "Should I just forget being Alpha and run for president? What would my slogan be?"

"'Gingers for peace,'" Owen replied immediately.

"'Mother Earth's home girl,'" Ava offered.

"'Sassy, steely, and bitingly sarcastic.'"

"I'm not _that_ sarcastic. But I am sassy. And steely sounds cool. How about 'cetacean-approved'?"

"Cetacean? Nobody will know what that means."

"Fine. 'Dolphin and whale-approved.'"

"I'm out," Owen said, shaking his head.

"Hmm...what about 'saving the world from fiery apocalypse'?" Ava said soberly.

Owen groaned. "You can let yourself stop thinking about it for five minutes. I promise, the world won't end. In fact, I think stressing about it is actually making it _harder_ for you to tap into your powers."

"Oh great, now I definitely won't stress."

There was no response from Owen. He reached over and turned the music back on. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel and then he was banging his head and lip-synching animatedly.

Ava watched Owen throw himself into his music with abandon. His movements were truncated by the limits of the car but still impressive. He was only nineteen. It was hard to remember that. Ava shrugged and started knocking her head back and forth. After twenty minutes of this, she stopped. "I take it back about your music being god-awful."

"We can listen to some of your music now," Owen offered diplomatically.

He fiddled with one of the dashboard controls, scanning through radio stations.

It's Sonny Spectre here on this beautiful Friday afternoon.

Ava winced at the familiar singsong voice and nasal vowels of America's fifth-most popular radio host.

"Oh your favorite," Owen said with a grin. They'd listened to the radio more in the last week than Ava had listened in her entire life, and she'd developed a fervent hatred for Sonny Spectre. The man spewed bland sexism and sensationalized bigotry in an effort to become America's fourth-most popular radio host.

She rolled her eyes and reached to turn the station.

So have you guys heard about what's happening in our nation's capital?

Ava and Owen traded grim looks. She withdrew her hand.

_Some psychopath is having an absolute field day in Washington, DC. Seven murdered government officials. Seven._ Sonny sounded gleeful as he delivered the body count.

Now my parents are from DC. Or actually the DC burbs. Maryland in the houuuuuuuuse. I'm trying to get them to buy a flamethrower or an Uzi or something.

_I mean there's a crazed killer on the loose and he's got it bad for government employees, just can't seem to resist. And my dad once did some contract work for the Department of Defense, so you know, like I was telling him yesterday, he's next on the list._ Sonny cackled.

And if they don't buy an Uzi, they need a moat. They should definitely build a moat around their house and fill it with the biggest, nastiest crocodiles they can find.

Have you all heard the other rumors? That it's some kind of foreign operative taking out these people—Jason Bourne style.

Not so sure about that one. Why waste your time on some germ scientist or judge? Wouldn't you go for someone more important?

Ava flicked the radio off, cranking the knob so hard it popped off and shot into Owen's chest.

Owen jumped. He shook his head. "I know. He's disgusting."

"The worst part? That wasn't even his most offensive segment." She kicked the floor. "Seven people. Roger has killed seven of his own...seven Ares Elders."

"Breathe, Ava, quickly," Owen said urgently.

"You breathe," she shot back. But Owen was right. If there was any way the situation in DC wasn't on Mother Earth's radar yet, she didn't want to be the one to bring it to Her attention.

Owen rolled down the windows as far as they would go. Ava gulped cool air into her lungs and wished she could inject it straight into her chest to neutralize the hatred burning there. It was occupying her ribcage, an unwanted interloper she couldn't evict. _How could she fight for peace with so much hate in her heart?_

"When this is all over, want to expose Sonny Spectre as the disgusting alien excrement he is?" Owen asked.

It was an artful redirect. Ava smiled. "More than anything in the world."

"Ok, you just savor that thought for a moment and I'll get us to Seattle. Sound like a plan?"

Ava nodded, too intent on her fantasy of Sonny Spectre's spectacular fall from grace to answer.

So pleasant was this train of thought that Ava drifted off into a gentle sleep.

* * *

The heat roused Ava— _why was it so hot_? She opened her eyes to roll down the window but she wasn't in the car. Panic rolled through her body—where was she? It looked like a field but it was hard to tell because the air was hazy with smoke. She clawed at her clothing, pulling it away from her body so she could cool down. _Not this again_. Was she once again feeling the oppressive heat of the warming planet? She'd carried that heat for months and it had almost broken her.

A figure emerged from the smoke. She flinched away from him and then gasped in recognition. She knew that face, she'd just seen that man smiling smugly up at her from an Internet search, although he wasn't smiling now. It was Sonny Spectre—the reviled radio host. Ava smiled. Owen had already delivered on his promise to find the man. No, that wasn't right. Why had they abandoned their search for Lucas and the alliance stone?

The man in front of her grinned maniacally. She looked down to see a flamethrower in his hands. Fire burst forth from the weapon and Ava swore, launching herself backwards and out of its trajectory. She knew she should do something, take the weapon from Sonny, but she stood motionless. The flames were mesmerizing. She blinked—was it a trick of the light and the smoke, or were the flames coalescing? Straining to see, she took a few steps closer, ignoring the part of her brain screaming a warning. She _had_ to see. The flames were licking and undulating into a form, a human form. Ava took a few more steps forward. A woman of fire was now pulling herself out of the flamethrower's muzzle to stand upright.

Sonny screamed and dropped the useless weapon. The scream drew the creature's interest; she flicked the radio host away like a piece of lint from a sweater.

The creature expanded sideways, her body pulling like taffy. Then with a sharp tug, the fire creature split herself in two. She repeated the process several more times until there were seven of her. The seven women surrounded Ava. They stared at her, rage distorting their faces. One by one, the creatures joined hands. When the circle was complete they began to grow, up into the smoky air. Ava cowered in the center, the heat now unbearable. The smoke grew thicker; it pried at her lips, forcing her mouth open and sliding down her throat into her lungs...

Ava woke in a violent coughing fit, the smell of burnt hair making her stomach turn.

"Ava, Ava, you're okay," Owen said patting her gently on the back. "Here, have some water."

Ava gulped from the proffered canteen. Once she set the water down she took a deep breath; the smell of burnt hair had mercifully disappeared along with the rest of her dream.

When she was sure she could speak, she murmured, " _She knows_."

"Who, Gaia? She knows..."

"About the evil unfolding in DC. That the Ares have gone completely rogue. _That there are no more rules_ ," she added in a whisper.

"Are you sure?"

Ava recounted her dream. Owen nodded. Ava's shoulders sank in relief that Owen believed her. He could've dismissed the story as a stress dream. She thought of the alliance tattoo on his chest and smiled. Everything had felt a little less impossible, a little less onerous since he'd revealed the mark.

"Wait a second, where are we?" Ava asked.

In her haste to tell Owen about the dream Ava hadn't realized they were parked on a city side street. It was dark out still and very quiet, so that Ava could actually hear the birds sing. The sun would be coming soon, but for now it was the moon's turn to shine.

"Seattle," Owen answered, groggily.

" _Seattle_?" Ava exclaimed. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Twelve hours give or take."

Ava groaned. "You should've woken me up. You must be exhausted. I can drive the rest of the way."

"Actually, I thought we should ditch the car and take the ferry across to Victoria. I'm just waiting for the ferry to open—the first one leaves at eleven AM."

"Oh...right. That makes sense. Nothing to track us into Canada. Want to just swim across? I need to stretch my limbs after this trip."

"I was thinking about that but we don't want to get our supplies wet. And then I thought maybe we could go via bubble. But I didn't want to tire you out. Especially because..." he trailed off, looking unsure.

Ava raised her eyebrows.

"We don't know what kind of situation we're entering in Victoria," Owen said. "Whether Lucas and Taylah are still there. Whether Lucas is friend or foe. Or Switzerland."

"That boy would never be Switzerland," Ava said emphatically. "But you're right. Half of me wants to strangle him and the other half wants to..." she stopped herself from finishing the sentence, blushing. "Wants to hug him," she finished lamely.

Owen didn't say anything. Ava looked over to find he'd fallen asleep, head resting on the steering wheel and mouth open. She giggled, the sight making her feel strangely content.

Chapter 10

Ava and Owen stood on the observation deck watching the Washington coastline recede. It had been remarkably easy to stow away on the ferry and bypass the security checking passports at the boat's entrance. Lucas would have just tried to charm his way through. Owen preferred discretion.

Ava pulled impatiently at strands of hair whipping in the wind. She whistled softly, expelling a puff of air, and the wind died down around them.

Owen laughed. "Really?"

"You wanted me to practice my powers," she answered.

"True..."

Ava changed the subject, saying, "How should we treat Lucas, strategically? I mean, my gut tells me he's still on our side. But that's the kind of thinking that allowed him to steal the necklace in the first place."

"First off, I think we meet with him together. _Always_. I can't lie—the little bugger's grown on me, but he's a slippery one."

Ava nodded agreement. "And Taylah?"

"I'll leave her to you," Owen said.

Ava paled before noticing Owen's grin. She nudged him with her shoulder. "That's not funny. Have you seen Taylah's battle face? She's terrifying."

"And powerful. I could feel it when we were at her house. And she's slippery too, just like her son."

"Plus, Taylah's a crazed mama bear when she thinks her cubs are threatened."

"We'll be careful not to wander between her and her cubs."

"I'm afraid _wandering_ is all we'll be doing."

Owen didn't answer. After a moment he said, "Thank you, by the way, for not telling Lena that I helped Taylah bind you."

"No need to make Lena hate _you_ as well," Ava said. She cringed at the unexpected bitterness in her voice. She'd been trying not to think about her grandmother.

"Natasha will take good care of her," Owen said, reading Ava's thoughts.

"Yeah, you're right. Nat's amazing."

She shivered—would Lena take good care of Natasha? What would happen if her grandmother got angry and confused again? _No, that wouldn't happen_ , she told herself firmly.

Mercifully this depressing line of thought was interrupted by a voice cackling over the ferry's loudspeaker.

Good afternoon, passengers. We have a special treat for you today. If you venture onto the observation deck and look over the starboard side, you'll see we have a few visitors. Our resident naturalist will give a short presentation on orca whales.

Owen and Ava traded toothy smiles as passengers rushed past them to catch sight of their guests.

"How cute—the whales came to welcome me," Owen said.

"Welcome _you_?" Ava replied. "You poor, deluded soul."

The voice came back onto the loudspeaker, sounding decidedly less calm.

Oh my goodness, folks, this is incredible! Some humpback whales have decided to join us as well. Our team has counted at least ten whales in the area! Orcas and humpbacks. You can see at least two orca calves. Please join us on the observation deck for this truly magical sight.

There were shouts of excitement and a throng of raised cameras. Ava beamed. Their welcome party was growing. She pulled off her sweatshirt, holding it out for Owen to take.

Owen refused the clothing, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. "No way, Ava. Not now."

Ava shrugged. "I have to."

"They'll see you."

"I'll stay below the surface, I promise. I've got my bubble trick, remember?"

Owen sighed. Relenting, he took the sweatshirt.

"See you in a bit," Ava said.

She hurried over to the now deserted port side of the ferry. Scanning her surroundings, she confirmed she was alone and hopped casually over the barrier. She hung from the side of the ship, admiring the view for a moment.

A hand of water erupted out of the ocean below and reached towards her. She dodged it, giggling, and flung herself into the air. She managed to execute several somersaults before landing with a splash.

She hadn't been below the surface for more than a moment when an orca calf nosed her curiously. Ava nosed the young orca back. Just as black bears had a special connection with her grandmother, dolphins and whales were drawn to Ava and she to them. They were playful, curious, intelligent, and led rich emotional and social lives. Many times she had been jealous of their bonds. But now she thought of Owen's tattoo, of Natasha offering to accompany them on their road trip, of her grandmother's fierce belief in her and understood—she had a pod of her own. She remembered her promise to a member of that pod, not to be seen by human observers, and swam away from the boat, her swift strokes cutting through gray-blue water.

She could feel the whales following her, swimming in a V formation with Ava at the head, and her heart thrilled. When they were far enough away from the ferry, she called the ocean to lift her so she was skimming along the surface, embraced by air and water alike. She whooped and a humpback to her left breached, launching its forty-ton body with the grace of a ballerina. Then it was an orca's turn to arc out of the ocean, its beautiful black and white form reaching fifteen feet into the air. Ava imagined the naturalist back on the ferry losing her mind at these antics and giggled. She dove back under the water. The calf from before nudged her feet and shot away—her invitation clear. Ava swam after her, racing her sleek form through the water. After a long sprint, she pulled up from the friendly competition, needing a gulp of air. When she re-submerged she found herself face to face with an old friend, the humpback, Nakano, who had comforted her after the Ares attack on the Golden Gate Bridge.

Carried away by surprise and excitement, Ava forgot she was underwater and tried to yell a welcome. A stream of bubbles emerged instead. The whale in front of her let out what sounded like a haunting call but was actually a giggle. Even humpback giggles sounded haunting. Ava concentrated on the bubbles, shaping them, growing them until they formed an ethereal crown for the whale in front of her. Nakano exhaled her own stream of bubbles. The tiny air pockets looked like an underwater solar system. Ava spun slowly among them. She reached out a gentle hand towards her friend's pectoral fin. When they connected, Ava saw a stream of images. Nakano was showing Ava her journey from the last year. The whale had been on a voyage north to Alaska for the summer. She'd felt Ava's presence and veered off course, as she had back in San Francisco.

Ava thanked Nakano for both detours, sending a burst of warmth and affection through their connected limbs. She felt a return burst and smiled widely. But there was something else besides affection; something was troubling Nakano.

"What is it, friend?" Ava asked, once again forgetting herself. Her voice came out muddled, distorted. But Nakano understood. The whale opened her mouth and let out a keening sound. Although the song of the humpback whale had become famous in certain human circles, Ava had never heard a female humpback whale sing before. The song reverberated through her chest and she _felt_ Nakano's story.

The music was a warning. Nakano had encountered unusual seismic activity near Hawai'i. She'd thought it was a fluke, or maybe a small earthquake. But the strange pattern of seismic activity had continued. She had fashioned this song to alert other whales to the Earth's strange rumblings, potential precursors of earthquakes and tsunamis.

Ava had a pretty good guess at what was making the Earth shake; it looked like Gaia was arming Her weapon of last resort. Nakano must have guessed as well—that's why she had diverted from her path to find Ava. She knew how important her tidings were. Ava wanted to thank Nakano in her own language, but had not yet mastered the complicated vocabulary of clicks, whistles, and pulsed calls employed by the whales. Instead she executed a series of frenetic underwater somersaults.

Nakano breached once more in reply.

"Ok you win," Ava said to herself, laughing. Normally Nakano's news would have made her feel heavy, anxious. But not this time. Part of it was the freedom of the ocean after so many days pent up in the car. Part of it was feeling anchored in the community of whales around her. And part of it was the hope Taylah's friend, Keegitah, the one they were searching for, might be able to hone Ava's connection with Mother Earth. And that would be true freedom. No longer would she be dogged by fears of triggering another earthquake, like the one in San Francisco, of accidentally devastating bystanders or loved ones. No longer would she be a puppet in her own life—at the beck and call of those with more control and knowledge. Maybe she would even be able to reason with the Earth Mother, get her to disarm.

Ava decided to swim the rest of the way to Victoria. She needed time in the ocean with friends. Owen had their supplies; she could just meet him near the ferry terminal. He was the one who'd told her to stress less—this would be the perfect antidote. She asked one of the whales to catch up with the ferry and let Owen know about her plan so he wouldn't worry. Then she turned back to the important task at hand. She shot herself out of the water, rotating her body as Nakano had done, and landed with a smack.

There were clicks of amusement from the whales gathered around. Ava laughed.

"Show me again, Nakano? I'll get it eventually."

* * *

Ava was so tired by the end of her swim that she could barely drag herself out of the water. One of the orcas had guided her to a small beach near the ferry terminal and she shimmied her way out of the water and up the beach, rolling onto her back for a moment to rest. Owen was right; she did tire herself out too easily and act too impulsively. If anyone surprised her on the beach, she'd be easy prey. But she felt less worried about a Makhai ambush than she had in months past. The Ares were distracted by their increasingly bloody civil war. And she felt at home in the wild energy of the Canadian coast. The water was teeming with life. From her position, she could see rocky coast and towering trees—this was still Gaia territory. She hoped Owen wouldn't be too mad at her detour. She hadn't heard back after her whale friend had sent word ahead of her ocean journey.

Trying to rally herself to meet the ever-punctual Owen, she smiled, imagining how many times he'd checked his watch in the last ten minutes. Fifty? Seventy? Something splashed against her forehead. Then her thigh. Then a full volley of plump raindrops burst against her body, just the incentive she needed to right herself and wander towards the ferry terminal. It was slow going but she managed to climb over some rocky coastline, through a patch of trees, and under a fence. She found herself on the edge of a parking lot. The terminal was almost deserted, with only two or three stragglers standing outside. The contrast of such a wide open space with so few people was eerie. Ava shivered, and pushed wet hair off her neck. _Where was Owen?_ She thought longingly of the sweatshirt she'd handed over to him. It wasn't easy to make the Gaia feel cold, but swimming for hours in the Pacific Ocean in March would do the trick.

"Owen," Ava called, scanning the terminal for movement. There was nothing; even the stragglers had disappeared. Ava was alone. "Owen!" she tried again, the force of her shout muted by the heavy rain. Maybe he'd left her there out of spite, upset over her ridiculous detour. But no, that wasn't like Owen. He didn't do things out of spite.

She had a strange sense of being caught in an episode of _The Twilight Zone_. Where were all the people? Did nobody actually live in Canada? Was the whole country an elaborate myth to make Americans feel bad about not having universal healthcare? She thought suddenly of her dream, the sight of her palms covered in blood. She shivered again and dug her hands into her pockets.

Shaking her head, she trained her eyes on the sky, looking for a bird to help search for Owen. Raindrops clung to her eyelashes. She blinked rapidly, almost missing the fleck of color in the distance. She watched the eagle descend, her stare bordering on reverent. Black-feathered wings sliced through the storm. When it was mere feet above her, the eagle shrieked and dropped something from its talons. Ava leaned over to pick up the fallen object and felt bile rise in her throat—it was a scrap of the sweatshirt she'd given Owen. Standing out against the gray fabric was a quarter-sized splotch of red. She frantically tried to recall eating tomato sauce or ketchup in the last week, but she already knew, with bone-deep certainty, that it was blood staining the sweatshirt.

The eagle shrieked again. Ava heard the grief and fear in the exclamation. Her heart pushed in against itself. Owen's blood. Owen was in trouble. She watched as the bird wheeled in the sky and then she sprinted after it with a shout. The eagle had brought the scrap of clothing; it knew where Owen was.

Ava chased the eagle back into the patch of trees she'd come from. It turned sharply away from the coast and Ava followed. The patch of trees became denser and denser until they were in a true forest. The ground was springy beneath her feet, aiding her inhuman sprint. Between trying to watch the eagle and dodging fallen tree limbs and branches, Ava missed a stump and tripped, quickly recovering. Then she slammed into something with the force of a head-on collision. Dazed, she looked for the source of the impact. But all she saw was water splashing to the ground.

She snarled and let out a string of curses. _Taylah's binding_. It wouldn't let her head towards Owen, towards danger. She moved along the invisible barrier frantically, throwing her shoulder against it again and again, but there was no break in its resistance. She dug her nails into the invisible wall as if they were talons, and pulled downwards. Her knees trembled in exhaustion. She put a hand out to lean against the nearest tree and then gasped, pulling it away as if it had been burned. She'd inadvertently connected to the network of fungus and tree roots Owen had showed her earlier—alarm bells were ringing all throughout the forest. Something was terribly wrong.

Fumbling in the ground for a root, she begged to connect with the tree again. After a long moment, a root answered her call. But it was hesitant, cautious. It didn't know her and she didn't know it—it would be much harder to communicate with this community of trees. But she desperately needed their help. She coaxed the root further from its loamy perch and reached a hand out slowly. At their contact, Ava stilled her breathing, tuning out the rain, the fear, the grief. She focused inward, finding a weak connection to the Wood Wide Web. She let the information wash over her as Owen had taught her, searching for pertinent facts among the gush of data.

She moaned and dropped the root. She'd found the cause of the forest's alarm—the scent of blood mingling with soil. Gaia blood. Ava leaned over, dry heaving, and tried to protect herself from a looming panic attack. There was nothing deadlier for a warrior than feeling helpless. She wracked her mind for options, strategies.

Needing to move, to feel like she was doing something, she scampered up the tree. Maybe she could go over the invisible barrier. She tried to swing from her tree to the branches of a neighboring tree and once again crashed into something solid. The impact untethered her from the first tree and she fell to the ground, knocking against branches as she dropped. Drained of the energy she needed to slow her descent, Ava tucked her arms to her chest and prepared for a violent landing. But she landed in something that felt like marshmallow fluff. As she sank into the substance, she realized the Earth had churned soil and rainwater into a deep pit of mud. She lay there, mud oozing into her mouth, nose, and ears. It was surprisingly pleasant, she thought, eyelids fluttering.

A long moment later, Ava opened her eyes with a jolt. She must've suffered a concussion during one of her collisions with the invisible barrier, but now her mind cleared and refocused. Owen needed her. Dragging herself out of the mud, which initially refused to relinquish her, she propped her body against a tree trunk to do a quick scan of her injuries. She didn't know who or what was waiting out there in the gray forest and she needed to be ready. She could feel a multitude of lacerations but luckily the mud had staunched the bleeding of the deeper cuts. She had a bump the size of a robin's egg on her forehead and she was bone weary, but other than that, she was ready for a fight.

She couldn't go through the barrier, she couldn't go around it, and she couldn't go over it. But what if she could make herself invisible to the wall somehow? The binding was inextricably linked to her identity as the Alpha, which in turn, was inextricably linked to her powers. That was the key. It wasn't easy, but it was possible for Ava to temporarily shuck her powers, storing their energy in a tangible host, like a rock or tree. It would be dangerous, especially when she was about to go up against an unknown threat. But she couldn't bear the alternative: doing nothing while Owen was in danger. Plus, the forest would still defend her—birds raking and tearing with their claws, roots tripping and binding, mud swirling and trapping. And she'd heard Vancouver Island still had some wild cougars in its forests. She would not be alone.

_But where to leave her powers?_ She decided on the tree the cautious root had belonged to—they already had a connection. It might make it easier to shed her powers. She clutched at the same root, visualizing shedding her powers like a snake shedding its skin. Minutes ticked by as she forced stubborn energy out of her body. Just as she felt she'd gathered all of her powers and was beginning to feed them through the root, something hard slapped against her shoulder blades. She cursed as her energy snapped back into place like a rubber band, and turned to see what had attacked her. A branch of the neighboring tree was hanging awkwardly, half of its leaves crushed.

"What the—" she yelled at the tree.

The branch stood its ground. Why had the tree lashed out at her? _Of course_. The tree didn't want her, the Alpha, to be left powerless against the coming danger.

Her rage dissipated as fast as it had come. In its place was a terrible feeling of resignation. She couldn't get to Owen. She fell to the ground, tears sliding down her face. Imagining the horrifying scenarios involving an injured Owen—or worse—Ava tried to pool her focus once more, but it was like gathering dust in the wind. "Help me, please," she whispered to the empty forest. "Help me."

The ground trembled once. And then again and again. Roots twisted their way out of the ground—four, six, ten. They stretched towards her, winding around an ankle, a wrist, a finger even. Ava understood. They would help her shuck her powers. She breathed in deeply, pushing down her fear and grief, and exhaled, forcing her powers out with her breath. They flowed from her limbs into the roots with the trees acting like a system of reverse IVs.

The last bit of energy drained from Ava and the roots withdrew. With a whispered thanks, Ava moved towards the invisible barrier once more. She shook her head. She'd only shucked her powers five other times and it had always taken her a few minutes to habituate herself to a world where she no longer had the hearing of a bat or the vision of an eagle. She took a tentative step towards the invisible barrier and then another. And then without warning her knees buckled—not out of exhaustion but out of fear. Fear for Owen, fear for herself, fear of pain and death. And then more fears rushed into the void. Fears for her grandmother and Natasha and her family. Following on the heels of fear was horror at the thought of Gaia's burden—of ecosystems destroyed and creatures abused. The emotions were more powerful than anything she'd felt before. She clung to a nearby tree, gasping for breath, as wave after wave of feeling washed over her. What was happening? _She was human_.

She'd never appreciated how crippling fear and anxiety could be without a connection to the natural world. Without an innate sense of belonging to a community, of being rooted in the earth. _How did the Ares bear it?_ Now she wished she'd better prepared herself for the onslaught.

She felt the tickle of a different emotion hidden under the fear and horror—relief. She was relieved the invisible barrier would keep her from having to face whatever had been able to injure Owen, one of the most skilled warriors she'd ever known.

The thought was like another branch slapping across her back. It goaded her forward—she was _not_ a coward. The fear was so strong she couldn't walk upright; it gave her vertigo. Teeth chattering, she pushed forward on hands and knees. She felt safer closer to the ground. But then the noises started. She jumped at every cracking stick and slosh of mud.

She held her breath as she neared the invisible obstruction, terrified the barrier would hold her back and terrified it would let her through. There it was—the wall, but it felt different, less solid. She pushed against it, feeling like she was pushing into a giant, thick sheet of plastic wrap. She could feel it stretching, giving way under her pressure. She lowered her shoulder, heaving with all of her might. There was a sound like ripping plastic and Ava stumbled forward. _She was free from the binding!_ The thought galvanized her, spurring her movements. She even felt good enough to stand upright. But the fear came again. The fear that a tired, shivering, sodden girl was nothing without her powers. A fraud. She fell quickly back to the safety of the ground.

Ava bit down on her tongue, the pain bringing her back to herself. Putting her head down against the driving rain, she scrambled forward. The water was blinding now—what was the sky trying to cover her from? Without her powers, she wasn't sure how to find Owen through the watery onslaught. She had a mad idea to freeze the rain, to envelope the entire forest in a honeycomb of ice so nothing could jump out and surprise her. Everything would be locked into place. Of course, without her powers, such an idea was useless.

Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Ava let out a small cry and then blushed. It was the eagle again. It wove through tree trunks, leading her forward. She followed as fast as she could. She couldn't keep up by crawling. With a moan of terror she forced herself into an upright position and sprinted through the storm. She felt the rain pressure increase before she saw that she was in a clearing. A body lay face down in the dirt. Ava recognized Owen's clothes. Rain mingled with red-stained soil near the body. _Did she have Owen's blood on her hands?_

She rushed to him, flipping him over gently. Her eyes went straight to the bloodstain over his abdomen. Then she looked at his face. Owen was smiling, beaming even. _Why did he look so unhinged?_

"Owen! What did they do to you? Are they still here? Can you talk?"

She scanned the clearing, pupils dilated, every hair on her body standing on end.

"You did it, Ava," Owen murmured weakly. "You broke the binding."

He'd obviously lost a lot of blood and was disoriented. His breath was ragged. "Yes, but, Owen, where are the people who did—"

She broke off, realization dawning.

"We're safe," Owen whispered, eyelids fluttering.

"Oh my God. You did this to yourself."

"Nojan helped," he said, pointing at the eagle perched on a branch above them.

That's why the bird had felt so much grief, out of guilt for helping Owen hurt himself.

Ava trembled—rage and fear were still careening through her body. At Owen's admission, all of that emotion had been re-directed from some unknown enemy to the man lying in front of her. But the soil was so red. She needed to keep him calm, to help him heal. _And then she could yell at him to her heart's content._

Owen interrupted her thought, saying, "Don't worry, I planned it well."

"What does that mean?"

"Don't you recognize where we are?"

" _No_. No more games, Owen. Where are we?" Ava studied the clearing. Wait a second, _a clearing in a forest_ —of course, they were in the presence of a Lifetree. This one was a towering cedar filling the air with its cleansing scent.

Cradling Owen in her arms, she felt a tremor run through his body. His skin was pale and clammy. "You're ice cold," she said, wishing she could stop the storm.

There was a creaking and rustling above. The trees at the edge of the clearing leaned their top halves in towards the boughs of the Lifetree, which returned the gesture. Their branches threaded together in a wooden embrace. Suddenly the rain stopped. Ava looked up, marveling at their makeshift roof.

"We can't stay out here with me bleeding like an idiot," Owen said.

"But we can't go anywhere until your wound has healed." _And I have my powers back_ , she added in her head.

"Hmmm...Marama?" Owen said, eyelids fluttering.

"Marama?" _Was Owen taunting her? Mentioning the young Gaia warrior Ava hadn't been able to save?_

"Half-mole," Owen murmured.

_Right_ , Ava thought. _Marama had burrowed tunnels to escape the Ares_.

"Hurry...please..." Owen said.

"I can't. I shucked my powers."

"You did what?" Owen sputtered and jolted upright as if electrocuted.

Ava blanched as blood rushed from his wound. He must've been concentrating to keep from bleeding out. She grabbed her friend, soothing him. But Owen would not be quieted. He was frantic now.

"You're utterly defenseless. My God...if the Ares had found us... _if they find us_. You have to get them back right now." He lunged out of Ava's arms and started dragging himself back towards where Ava had come from.

"Owen!" she shouted, horrified.

Roots jutted out of the ground in front of her friend, barring his escape. And then the ground shook. _What now?_ Ava thought. She turned back towards the Lifetree. Using its roots like the jaws of a backhoe, the cedar was tearing asunder the earth closest to its trunk, creating a small underground cave. The cedar braced the space with a globe-shaped structure of roots, and even fashioned a rough staircase into the earth. Ava put a palm to the Lifetree's trunk, thanking it for its help. At the touch, Ava got a staccato burst of energy. She ran back to Owen, lifted him into her arms—buoyed by the Lifetree's gift—and helped him down into the dark chamber.

She settled Owen against one wall with a grunt of effort, and sat so she could cradle his head in her lap. A root snaked out of the dirt wall. Ava grabbed it and let the Lifetree's energy flow through her into her friend. Eventually Owen fell asleep.

* * *

Several hours later, Owen awoke with a start. "Do you have your powers back?"

"No," Ava said sharply. "And I'm not getting them back until you're healed. Now tell me—why did you do this to yourself?"

"I didn't mean to injure myself quite so badly," Owen said, wincing. "Nojan's talons gouged a bit deeper than planned. Sorry if I scared you."

"Continue."

"I'd been obsessing over your binding."

"Right. I figured that part. But how did you get from there to lying facedown in a pool of your own blood?" She thought of the blood gushing out of him like a popped water balloon and pushed her fists against the dirt.

Owen said, "I felt terrible for helping Taylah with the binding. Especially once you pointed out how dangerous it might be, how you'd be at a terrible disadvantage if the Ares ever discovered your secret. And I was fascinated by Natasha's theory for outwitting the binding. It had to be tested. But you had to truly believe I was in danger for it to have any chance of working. I was waiting for my chance...and when I heard you weren't getting back on the ferry I thought today was my best shot."

Ava nodded. As always Owen's intentions were unimpeachable. His actions, on the other hand...

"It was a bit of a rush job," Owen said. "As I said, I...er... _produced_ way more blood than I was planning to. At first I was really upset with myself and then I just started to laugh and laugh—I gave Nojan a terrible scare. By setting up a 'fake danger' I had put myself in real danger. And I actually needed your rescue."

"How does it feel?" Ava asked, gesturing at Owen's stomach.

"Better now that I'm warm and dry, and surrounded by the roots of the Lifetree." Owen gripped at one of the aforementioned roots, borrowing its potent energy. "So..." he said hesitantly, "you broke the binding? How did you do it? Was Natasha's theory right?"

Ava did not want to forgive Owen so easily, to shift the focus from his betrayal. But she didn't like the paleness of his skin or the ragged edge to his breathing. And he was all she had left now. She knew that her forgiveness would be an even more powerful balm for Owen than the roots of the Lifetree. "Kind of...I'm not sure. I think something happened back there."

Owen raised his eyebrows, studying her. He didn't say anything so Ava continued, "I thought I could trick the binding...and it worked. I didn't do exactly what Natasha said, but I remembered her suggestion that the binding had to be anchored to something inside of me—emotion, identity..."

Owen nodded. "And you thought shucking your powers would essentially hide you from the binding? _Genius_."

"Yeah, I was desperate. But once I shucked my powers I felt _so_ human. The fear was...crippling, literally, I couldn't even stand up straight. I'd never felt anything like it. Is that what humans feel when they're afraid?"

Owen shook his head. "I'm not sure. I know our Gaia side, our connection to the natural world and its creatures, shields us from certain extremities of human emotion...But I've never shucked my powers."

"Really?" Ava asked, genuinely surprised. "How'd they let you graduate from basic training without doing it?"

"I lied," Owen admitted.

"No way."

"I was too afraid I'd never get them back, and well...I don't know who I am outside of my connection to the Earth."

"Wow. _Wow_. Owen Robertson being a rebel, never thought I'd see the day." Ava shook her head.

"Not sure if I was a rebel or a coward." Owen's tone was confessional.

Ava blushed and felt moved to her own revelation. "I was...relieved, for a moment, when I thought the binding would keep me from trying to help you. And it's not the first time I've felt that way. If anyone's a coward..." She couldn't meet Owen's eyes.

" _No_. You came anyway. That says more about your true courage than anything I can think of."

The roots of the Lifetree vibrated several times as if to echo Owen's point.

"The binding...is it _permanently_ broken?" Owen asked, hesitant.

" _Yes_ ," Ava said, remembering the sound of the binding being torn apart.

"You're different," Owen said abruptly.

"Different? How?"

"You remind me of someone right now. _Lena_ , you seem more like Lena."

"Maybe the fear broke my brain and I'm a newer, better version of myself."

"The fear broke your brain!" Owen exclaimed.

_Was her grandmother's brain breaking?_ Ava wondered. _Failing?_

When Ava didn't answer, Owen continued, "Remember Lena's journal? For her sister to take on the full mantle of her Alpha powers she had to test her animal _and her human_ limits. In shucking your powers, you became human. And you went through a grueling test of fear."

Ava held up her hands, examining them.

"Besieged by the worst of human nature, the primal, selfish drive for self-preservation, you relied on the best of human nature—love for a friend—to persevere," Owen mused.

"You don't think...maybe...Gaia orchestrated this test somehow? Commanded Nojan to cut you more deeply so that I'd have more incentive to break the binding?"

"I know I've lost a lot of blood today...but did you really just ask if the Earth Mother ganged up on me with an eagle or am I hallucinating?"

"She slashed my chest open and left me surrounded by an army of great whites...it's not such a crazy idea," Ava answered.

"I guess...One thing's for sure—some of my paranoia has definitely worn off on you."

"So if it was a test...do you think I passed?"

"I'm not sure...But I could always stage an elaborate fake ambush to see if you respond with any new powers," Owen said.

Ava nudged his knee. "No more surprises."

"No more surprises," Owen agreed.

Something slithered around Ava's wrists, pulling her arms toward the walls. _So much for no more surprises_. She looked down to see roots circling her limbs and then she got a jolt of energy.

"They're giving you your powers back," Owen whispered, eyes widening.

"But how?" Ava asked. "The tree where I shucked my powers is miles from here."

Owen grinned. "I think they're using the Wood Wide Web...They must have passed your powers from tree to tree."

Ava rocked backwards as she got another jolt of energy, and then the roots withdrew into the ground.

"We've got to tell Lena about this—I've never heard of such a thing," Owen said excitedly.

Ava studied Owen's face, thought about how much time he had spent with Lena over the last decade. _He loves her as much I do, and he must be just as afraid for her_.

"Yes, we'll tell her. As soon as we're home, we'll find her and tell her," Ava said, grabbing Owen's hand as she made the promise.

Chapter 11

Owen and Ava stayed burrowed underground for a full day, until Owen's wound had closed. Then they began the search for the house from the memory Ava had stolen from Lucas. It was a monotonous task. They found the college campus from the memory and began checking the interiors of houses that had windows overlooking the campus. Owen "borrowed" uniforms from the local utility company and they knocked on doors for hours, making small talk with exceedingly polite Canadians. Finally, Ava thought they'd found their target. Glancing through the first floor window on their way up to the door, Ava recognized the rich carpets and wall paintings.

The house's exterior was painted lemon yellow. It had no lawn, only a garden so aggressively wild that it seemed to be devouring the sidewalks hemming it in. Spring came early in Victoria and the garden was riotous with color and fragrance. While Ava knocked, Owen slipped around the back to do a little breaking and entering.

Hearing Owen's signal, Ava followed Owen's path around the back, quickly scaled a drainpipe, and slipped through the second floor window he'd opened.

"Nobody's home," Owen said.

"So, we wait."

"Yes, we wait."

"The life of an Alpha is really quite boring," Ava said.

"Except for all the sharks and volcanoes and steel spiders..."

"And friends pretending to be murdered..."

"Oof. How long are you going to hold that one against me?"

Ava rolled her eyes. "How does the scar feel?"

"Much better."

"Good. Oh, _hello_ , sunshine!" Ava said, looking out the window. The rain that had dogged them the last several days had finally dispersed, leaving radiant sunshine in its wake. Everything was cast in a golden glow, including the clouds. Ava had never seen such clouds. Trapped by a surrounding cache of mountains, the clouds bounced colors and light amongst themselves, creating a textured quality to the sky.

"Let's check out the exterior," Ava said, slipping out the window. Owen followed. She did one last quick scout of the house as they walked out. There was so much life gathered in the nooks and crannies of the garden—snakes and frogs and turtles slithered and jumped and swam. Hummingbirds darted to and fro. It was a marked contrast with the other houses on the street; there was something different about this place. She grabbed Owen's arm. "Look!"

"Where?" Owen whispered urgently, dropping into a fighter's crouch.

Ava laughed. "No, sorry, look there, in the garden."

She pointed at a spot just next to the front steps. A spider web the size of a quilt hung between the stair railing and a neighboring tree. Its delicate strands shone gold in the light, like an impossibly fine chainmail. Woven into the web was an unmistakable symbol—the circle and dagger of an alliance stone.

Owen breathed out in wonder. "How did I miss that?"

"How did _we_ miss it," Ava corrected. "The light. We needed the sunlight to see it."

"What does it mean?"

"Keegitah, I think she's a friend. It would've taken great skill, Gaia skill, to weave the alliance symbol into that web."

Ava wanted to stay planted right there, on the sidewalk. She was so close, to the necklace, to answers, to control, to a relationship with Gaia. But they would draw too much attention if they lurked for much longer. And the sunshine was calling—an insistent drumbeat in the back of her head.

Excitement rising, she grabbed Owen's hand. "Come on, let's enjoy the sunshine! Just for the afternoon!"

Owen glanced at his watch. Then he looked back at Ava. "It is _glorious_ out...Race you to the beach," he yelled, pulling his hand away with a cheeky smile and dashing ahead of her.

"Which beach?"

"Whichever one we find first! This _is_ an island!" he called over his shoulder.

"It's an island the size of the Netherlands!" she tried to respond, but Owen was already halfway up a tree. Apparently he'd be taking an aerial route to the beach.

She glanced up at the street signs—Foul Bay and Lansdowne. _Foul Bay_? Ava thought, scrunching up her face, but it seemed more likely to lead to water than Lansdowne. She shook her head and sprinted down Foul Bay Road. These were the kind of games she could get behind.

While she ran, she studied the passing neighborhoods. There was that sense of texture again—if other towns were two-dimensional children's books, this one was a pop-up book. Or more like a pointillism painting come to life, with millions of specks of color—green leaves, yellow buds, blue humming birds. Ava sighed as a breeze stirred through the trees, making the whole scene ripple. She was so mesmerized by the wave of color that she didn't immediately notice the wind picking up. A familiar friend, it pushed at the back of her knees, urging her forward. When she didn't immediately pick up her pace, it circled her upper body, making her hair whip to and fro in crimson chaos. Spitting a curl out of her mouth, she forced herself from a jog to a sprint. But evidently that wasn't good enough. The wind spun around her, tearing at her clothing. She was a one-woman cyclone. She ducked off the main road into a backyard before anyone could notice the meteorological anomaly.

Jumping fences and dodging friendly barking dogs, Ava pointed herself towards the ocean. She could feel it calling her home.

"Oof," Ava exclaimed, banging her shin into a fire pit—apparently the ocean had called her right into a large hunk of ceramic. Caught by the wind, she fell forward into a pile of what looked like pink confetti. Righting herself, she realized it was not confetti but fallen petals from the cherry trees ringing the backyard. She smiled and then groaned. The petals were being sucked up into her tornado, making it look like a cloud of salmon-colored mosquitoes had converged on her. So much for being inconspicuous. She swatted at the petals half-heartedly, hoping the wind would fall flat now that she had. But it really wanted her to win the race against Owen.

"You're not helping," she whispered to nobody in particular. There was no bite in her tone. This kind of meddling from the Earth was harmless. At least she wasn't accidentally unleashing a real tornado. _Or an earthquake_. She continued her sprint, occasionally throwing herself against a bush or a tree to shake some of the confetti cloud free.

Cutting through a path between two houses, she saw a park, and beyond that, the gray-blue of the ocean. She wondered fleetingly if she'd won the race and then found herself flat against the ground once more, her cheek pressed against damp grass.

"Beat 'cha!" Owen shouted triumphantly from her back.

She rolled over, pushing him off. "What the—"

She bit down on her tongue. A group of five or six kids had gathered, apparently to watch their tussle. They were giggling and whispering. It wasn't everyday they got to see a grown man fall from a tree onto a human cyclone. Alarmed, Ava searched for their parents but there were no adults to be seen. She turned to the only other adult in sight, who was acting like a child. Owen was grinning from ear to ear.

"There are so many trees in this place that I made it all the way here without setting foot on the ground," he said. "Until now. And that was more like setting foot on _you_."

What had gotten into Owen? It was so unlike him to be this careless. They'd clearly been cooped up too long with far too much stress.

She opened her mouth to chide him and then closed it. Owen needed an afternoon to decompress. They both did.

"Wow, very impressive," she said. Her enthusiasm was less than convincing. She tried again, saying, "This place is like an arboretum."

"I know, you've got to see the rest of this beach. It's unreal."

"'S'cuse me. Did you fall from that tree?" one of the little girls asked.

"No I _jumped_ from that tree," Owen answered enthusiastically.

As one, their little group of admirers turned to stare at said tree and oohed in appreciation. Ava kicked Owen's leg—he wasn't helping.

"Whoa, that's like a hundred million feet," a small blond with glasses said.

"Two hundred million, actually," Owen said seriously.

Ava couldn't stop herself from giggling at his mock humble look. She was far more comfortable with animal young than human children. But she figured she might as well get some useful information from the diminutive posse.

"What beach is this?" she asked the children.

She counted three shrugs and a giggle. This is why she avoided human children. Finally the first girl piped up confidently, "Billows Beach."

"No, _Willows_ Beach," another child corrected.

"Thank you," Ava said. She widened her eyes comically large. "Oh my goodness, I think I see a whale!"

The gathered group mewed excitedly and started scooting towards the beach.

"Where?" asked the little girl who had spoken first, not as easily fooled as the rest.

"Over there!" Ava said. "Oh wow, I just saw a tail. Oh, there's another one. Two whales!"

The children dispersed, pushing each other and yelling with excitement as they barreled towards the water.

"Smart," Owen said. "But cruel."

" _Cruel_? No way. Plus there totally _could_ be two whales down there."

"Thanks for covering. I got a bit...carried away. I blame it on the sunshine."

Ava shook her fist at the sun and Owen laughed.

"Brother sun and sister moon," she whispered to herself, repeating the words of her grandmother.

"What?" Owen asked.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. She too would let the sunshine carry her away this afternoon. "To the beach?"

"To the beach!" Owen replied.

He hadn't been exaggerating; the beach was dreamy. Snow-capped mountains ringed the ocean to her left and right, with one rising majestically before the others. The park trailed its way all the way down to the sand and the graceful sweep of willow branches could almost touch the water at high tide. Driftwood lined the beach like oversized Jenga tiles. The more creative beach-goers had shaped the wood into stars, squares, and child-sized cabins. The logs were perfect for lounging against. _And apparently for hurdling_ , Ava thought, as a dachshund somehow managed to hurl herself over one of the logs in search of a tennis ball. Hundreds of dogs zipped along the sand, running in and out of the surf.

"Hold up, does this place really exist?" Ava asked. "Or was it magicked into being from one of my daydreams? Or am I in one of my daydreams right now? This is too weird."

"I know, right?" Owen said. "Too bad we had to chase Lucas to such an _ugly_ place." He shook his head.

Ava snorted. The sound drew the interest of another dachshund, who trundled over to investigate. Ava leaned down to greet the newcomer and found that he didn't have a collar.

"Where's your companion, little bub?" she cooed.

The dog licked her ankle.

"Can you tell who this guy belongs with?" Ava asked Owen as she scratched her new friend behind the ears.

"Nope. Did you try asking him?"

As a Gaia, Ava could often get images of the people dogs were most bonded to, their human "pack." But she was getting a blank from the dog.

"Hey!" Ava called, as her new friend scampered away along the beach. She and Owen gave chase. Sand tickled the skin of her calves. Then her elbows. When it got to her chest, she realized she wasn't just kicking it up while she ran. The wind was back. It was cheekier, more insistent this time, like a dog nipping at her hem. She saw one of the children who'd been studying Owen and her earlier.

"Look!" the kid called to a distracted parent, pointing at Ava and her sandstorm.

Panicking, Ava dropped to the beach, rolling in the sand as if she were on fire.

She caught a flash of sparkle out of the corner of her eye and sat bolt upright. _The wind had been trying to warn her_. The boots were unmistakable—colorfully beaded flowers and greenery climbed from ankle to mid-calf. Ava had seen them in her dream back in Australia and she'd seen them in the memory she'd stolen from Lucas. _Keegitah_. Keegitah was sitting on a log, staring down at Ava with a wide smile on her face. The dachshund was perched on her lap, wagging his tail happily.

_Traitor_ , Ava thought, glaring at the dog. His tail wagged a little faster. Owen was about twenty feet ahead, still searching for the dog's parents. His back was turned. Despite Keegitah's smile, Ava felt vulnerable—how had the woman found them? Was she friend or foe?

"Isn't it _glorious_ out?" Keegitah said.

Ava nodded, wanting to call for Owen without betraying her fear. "So you know—"

"Who you are? Of course. I've been waiting for you," Keegitah said.

"That's funny."

"Why?"

" _We've_ been waiting for _you_."

"I know. I thought we might both be more comfortable if I... _arranged_ to meet you here. Lucas said you were...what was his word? _Eager_."

"Did he now?" Ava said. Her mind raced. Keegitah had seen Lucas recently—they had talked about her. Why hadn't Owen noticed her disappearance yet?

"I like eagerness. We cannot wait for the world we want to see."

Ava decided to take a different tact, asking, "And what world would you like to see?"

"You mean—do we want the same future for the world? I'll let you decide that. But know this, I mean you no harm."

"I wish I could take you at your word."

"You can."

Ava studied Keegitah's face, the inflection of her voice. "We were waiting at your house and we saw something...a symbol in the spider web."

"Lucas's idea."

Could Ava trust Keegitah? Lucas trusted her, he trusted her to help Ava. And Ava trusted Lucas. Or she _had_ —she saw again her grandmother's face when she discovered the necklace had been stolen. She needed more.

"I see my word is not enough," Keegitah said. "Maybe the word of another will convince you. What does the Earth Mother say? Do you feel threatened? Does She?"

Ava opened her mind, probing down into the sand, into the beach, into the Earth. Nothing in their surroundings viewed Keegitah as a threat. Ava wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, but the dune grass seemed to be stretching towards Keegitah. _Who was this woman?_ Ava thought. The dog hopped off Keegitah's lap and came to lick Ava's hand. Ava relaxed. Owen might think her a fool for trusting this woman, especially so soon after Taylah's betrayal, but paranoia could only take their rogue movement so far. How could she build trust between the orders without showing any herself?

"Do _you_ believe in the cause?" Ava asked. "Peace between the orders?"

"I believe in peace of many kinds."

"Ava," Owen called, loping over to her spot on the beach. He did a double take at the woman on the log. The muscles in his shoulders tensed; he was preparing to fight.

"It's okay, Owen," Ava reassured him. "Keegitah gave me her word that she means us no harm."

Owen's shoulders didn't uncoil.

Keegitah laughed. "I can see you are not reassured by my word. But, given why you're here, you'll have to start learning to trust in the power of words."

"And why are we here?" Ava asked. She'd meant it to sound tough but it came out plaintive. _Why were they here?_

Keegitah laughed. "So many questions. That's good. I like questions. Answers, they're a different beast altogether. Much trickier. As to why you're here, Lucas said you're losing control of your connection with Gaia."

Ava felt immense relief hearing the words spoken aloud by someone. There was so much fear and shame bundled up in the truth, but it dissolved when Keegitah said it like that.

"Yes, that's it," Ava said. "I'm losing control."

"You're not the only one," Keegitah said. "Sometimes it feels like the whole world is losing control."

Owen broke in, "And you want to help Ava regain her control? Why? We know you're working with Lucas and Taylah."

"Yes, I heard about...the difficulty between you and Lucas and Taylah," Keegitah said.

" _Difficulty_?" Owen snorted. "He stole our Order's most precious possession, putting Ava and her grandmother in a terribly vulnerable position."

"Yes," Keegitah said. "Still, he hoped you would come."

"Do you know where they are now?" Ava asked, an edge to her tone. _Do you know where the necklace is?_ she added in her head.

"Taylah never tells me where she's going," Keegitah replied lightly.

Ava had opened her mind to the Earth, using it as a makeshift lie detector for Keegitah's words, and it was telling her the older woman spoke the truth. It worked to Taylah's advantage for Ava to have greater control over her powers, so Taylah had let them find Keegitah. Lucas had even left them a sign. But neither of them would ever be sloppy enough to give their location away unless they wanted to be found.

Ava deflated, remembering the pain in her grandmother's eyes. Keegitah couldn't help them find the necklace. But she might still be willing to share her stories with Ava, to deepen her connection with Gaia. Maybe that would be enough for the Council of Elders. Or maybe Lucas or Taylah would come back for Keegitah.

"So, you live here?" Owen asked Keegitah.

"Sometimes. Like you, I'm a guest on these Coast Salish territories," Keegitah said. "I'm a law professor at the local university, but I travel often for my work."

After all this mystery and myth, the answer to one of their biggest questions might rest with a regular, old law professor.

"Can you help me?" Ava asked, digging her nails into her palm.

"Yes, I will try. Did Taylah tell you anything about our time together? About the stories we shared? The laws of my people?"

Ava shook her head. "Just a little. There wasn't much time." She thought of Taylah's burning house. "You said you're a guest on this land—where are you from? And would you...would you be willing to share your stories and your laws? The ones you shared with Taylah?"

"More questions. I can see why Gaia chose you as an Alpha."

Ava forced herself not to blush.

"Your first question is easy. My home is Neyaashiinigmiing, what some now call southwestern Ontario. I am from the Anishinaabe Nation. For as long as I can remember I have listened to the stories of my parents, and grandparents, from Elders, and others in my community. These stories live inside of me, instructing me, guiding me in times of confusion, conflict, and despair. When I was at university, the stories grew restless inside of me, or maybe _I_ was the one who grew restless. You know how that feels."

Ava didn't meet Keegitah's eyes. _Boy, did she know how that feels_.

"I've spent my life gathering these stories," Keegitah said. "I'm happy to share with you the stories that were shared with me. But I cannot guarantee they will live inside you like they do inside me. Or Taylah. That part is up to you."

Ava leaned forward hungrily.

Keegitah studied Ava's face. "Like Thomas King and so many others have expressed before, stories are alive," she said. "They respond to the listener. You are the Alpha; your connection to Gaia is potent. If you can open your heart and your mind while you listen, I think you'll find at least some of the answers you're seeking. Or at least you'll be able to ask better questions, and that's half the battle." She paused to pat the dog on her lap. "Although we call Her by a different name, my people have been speaking to Gaia for thousands of years, since time immemorial. The record of that relationship lives in these stories. As do some of our laws for engaging with Gaia and Her creatures."

Ava nodded. "I want to learn, _I do_ ," she said, her voice catching with emotion.

"Walk with me?" Keegitah asked, putting a hand out to help Ava up.

Ava smiled, grasping Keegitah's hand, and let the older woman pull her to her feet.

Chapter 12

They walked for hours, Owen scouting a little ahead or behind to make sure their path was safe. Their feet churning out a steady rhythm in the sand, Ava and Keegitah alternated between stories and discussion. Ava listened deeply to the stories; she could feel their words wrapping around her heart like roots. They pulled her shoulders back and her chin up, breathing new life into her limbs.

Keegitah leaned down to grab a stone from the beach. Without thinking, Ava did the same. She'd been studying every last detail of Keegitah's voice and movement, intent on learning everything she could from the storyteller.

"I think that's enough for today," Keegitah said.

Ava's shoulders sagged in disappointment. "I'm happy to keep listening. I could listen for days."

Keegitah smiled. "I appreciate that, but I think you'll get the most out of the stories if you let them sit with you a while. Engage with them. Grapple with them." Keegitah skipped the rock she was holding. Ava held her breath, waiting for the pebble to jump all the way out to the horizon. But it plopped into the ocean after only two flights.

"Never could skip a stone," Keegitah said, shaking her head. "But you see there, the waves rippling? Let the stories ripple inside of you."

"Oh, I will," Ava replied eagerly. "I'll let them do _all_ the rippling."

Keegitah laughed. "Impatience _and_ enthusiasm—that's a combustible mix."

Ava couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Look for me," Keegitah said. "Once the stories have 'done _all_ the rippling,' as you say." She mimicked Ava's tone with a smile.

"How will I know?" Ava asked urgently. What if she couldn't tell? What if she couldn't find Keegitah again? What if she couldn't draw out the knowledge from the stories? Ava shivered, and the beach trembled beneath her feet, echoing her anxiety back to her.

Keegitah glanced down at the sand, an eyebrow raised in amusement. Gently, she picked a foot up and lowered it again. The trembling stopped.

Ava inhaled sharply. "How did you...are you—"

"A Gaia?" Keegitah answered for her. "No. I was once invited to join your Order. And I must admit I was deeply tempted by the offer...but I decided it wasn't for me."

Ava knew the Ares recruited members, but she'd never heard of the Gaia recruiting. She couldn't stop herself from asking, "Why?"

"I pictured myself like you, commanding the elements, becoming a great warrior, and then I realized—I could be a different kind of warrior. My weapons are different from yours, but my cause is the same."

"Thank you. For sharing your stories, your laws."

Keegitah put a hand to her heart, at the exact same spot of Ava's alliance stone scar. Ava blinked—did Keegitah know about her scar? Before she had a chance to ask, the older woman had pulled her into a hug.

"You are not alone, Ava Fae. I stand with you. I share your burden."

Ava held Keegitah tight, holding back tears. "You've borne it so much longer than I," Ava whispered. "Thank you."

They stood like that for a long moment. Keegitah stomped her foot again. The faint sound of a drumbeat echoed up from far beneath their feet. "I'll see you soon, go in peace, Ava Fae."

Ava could barely talk through her tears—tears of joy, of wonder, of sadness, of longing for friends and family. "Goodbye," she called after the older woman's retreating figure.

She dropped to her knees, listening for the faint drumbeat Keegitah had summoned. But it was gone now, just like the older woman. Her tears sped up, plop, plop, plop into the beach. _What was that?_ Her tears seemed to be reverberating as they hit the ground. She leaned her head closer to the sand. It was muted, but there was a sound, a keening, coming from below. She turned and pressed her ear to the beach as she might check the pulse in the chest of a fallen comrade. The call was distorted, muffled, but she thought she heard, "Don't, don't, don't," every time a tear hit the ground. _Don't what_? Ava thought, suddenly alarmed. What was Gaia trying to tell her? She breathed in deeply, trying to open her heart and her mind as Keegitah had showed her on their walk. She let the stories surround her, remembered their teachings on how to listen and observe. And then she heard it, a long low chant travelling up from the bowels of the Earth: "Don't cry, sister."

She wept, feeling a spark of hope caroming wildly around her chest. She whispered into the beach, her lips tickled by sand, "These are happy tears."

"Ava!" Owen barked, running towards her. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I can hear Her," Ava whispered in wonder.

"What's She saying?" Owen didn't look very excited.

Ignoring his question, Ava said, "Feel my heartbeat." She wanted to draw out the happy, buoyant Owen she'd seen earlier today.

Owen demurred, checking his watch instead.

Frowning, Ava asked, "What happened to wanting to enjoy the 'glorious weather'?" Her eyes widened. "Oh my God."

"What?"

"That's what Keegitah said when she first spoke to me, 'Isn't it _glorious_ out?' She mimicked your exact words. And you were being so weirdly happy and exuberant today."

"Hey now," Owen said. But then he shook his head. "You're right. I felt strange today, almost drunk on giddiness. Do you think she... _bewitched_ me?"

"Not exactly. I think she did to us what we do to humans—used the power of suggestion. She drew us to the beach."

"But how—"

"She's a Gaia," Ava interrupted. "Or at least she could've been. She has Gaia powers."

"They must be significant. Potent," Owen said, blushing at the realization he'd been influenced.

"Keegitah's a _potent_ woman."

"Are you sure we can trust her?"

"Yes." And Ava _was_ sure. It was a new kind of confidence, the roots of the stories holding her tight.

Wordlessly, Owen brushed his fingers over his tattoo as if to say, "I trust you." It was the second time today someone had made the gesture. It gave her the queerest feeling, knowing people were willing to put their faith in her.

"I have an idea," Ava said. "Mother Earth keeps tabs on her favorites—members of the Gaia. Lucas has Gaia blood and he's certainly roused Mother Earth's interest before. If I can control my powers and communicate with Gaia, I might be able to get a sense of where Lucas is."

"Okay, NSA, that is very cool. And very creepy."

"I know, but I think it's our best chance of finding Lucas and Taylah...and the necklace."

The thought surfaced a rush of memories Ava had been trying to keep buried: her grandmother's face darkening in rage across from her, her anguish at being cut from her family and community like a cancer, and, worst of all, her desperate belief that Ava could return the necklace and take her true place as the Alpha.

She busied herself sculpting a castle in the sand. Well, more of a cottage. Finally she worked up the courage to ask, "What happens if we can't find Lucas...or the necklace?"

"We'll find them, Ava."

"But if we don't?" Ava persisted.

"You can talk to Her—"

"I can _hear_ Her," Ava interrupted. "Big difference."

"Either way. You're the Alpha—within you lies the power of the hurricane, the tidal wave, the volcano and the quaking earth. Your birth is a once-in-a-century, once-in-two-centuries event. And now? You're learning how to communicate with Gaia and control your powers. Necklace or no necklace, your authority will be undeniable when you speak to the Council of Elders. Especially when they find out Gaia might be working on a nuclear option of Her own."

Ava finally voiced a fear that had been nagging at her for weeks, "What if they already know about that? What if they _want_ Gaia to trigger the volcanic eruptions?"

"Your mom would never let that happen."

"My _mom_ ," Ava said, the word tasting bitter, "let the Elders ostracize and threaten my grandmother. And then stole her place on the Council. I have no idea what _she_ would do." Ava realized the greater import of Owen's words. "Wait a second—do you think the other Elders _would_ support Gaia's nuclear option?"

Owen didn't answer right away. Ava nudged him. He sighed. "Yes, I think some of them would."

Ava blanched. "My grandma suggested as much. But I thought it was just paranoia. You know she hasn't been herself lately..."

"Gaia, She's so tired. I can feel it," Owen said. "You can feel it. Her oceans and Her trees are working feverishly to suck carbon out of the air but it's never enough. They can't keep up. The world is warming, fires are raging, super storms are brewing. The most vulnerable are suffering. She needs a break. You know that better than anyone. And releasing the volcanoes will cool Her down..."

"You sound like you want Her to do it."

"No," Owen said firmly. "I'm just saying I understand. And I understand why some Elders are ready to do something so drastic. Especially with that monster commandeering the Ares and killing his own people. The world is on a knife's edge. Some Elders see opportunity in the chaos. A chance for Gaia to protect Herself."

Ava's heart thumped very loudly in her chest. She felt the blood coursing through her veins, the feeling suddenly magnified tenfold. The lessons of the stories twisted around her, giving her strength, courage.

"There _is_ opportunity in chaos. But I won't stand by while some Elders set the world on fire and dance in the flames. There's another way." Ava leaned over to press her face to the sand and whispered reassuringly, "I've got you, Mother Earth." A crab scuttled over her hair, clicking its claws together. Ava smiled. "Give me just a little more time."

Chapter 13

A day later the rain was back. Ava and Owen had holed up in a vacant beach house while Ava waited for the stories to "do _all_ the rippling." Since they didn't have a lead on where Lucas, Taylah, and the necklace were, they decided to stick around Victoria for a few days more. Ava had sent Owen to scout both the World Wide Web and the Wood Wide Web for clues to Lucas and Taylah's whereabouts. Now she was staring at the steam rising from her mug, trying to see Gaia's face in the water vapor. This was her eighteenth mug of tea in three hours. After that first euphoric moment of hearing Gaia speak, she hadn't uncovered another trace of the Earth Mother. Ava sighed and gave up, chugging the contents of her mug. At least she was exceedingly well hydrated.

She heard a whisper from the basement and shot out of her seat, sending it clattering to the floor. Careening down the stairs, she shouted, "I'm coming," as if Gaia were ringing the doorbell and that might keep her from leaving. She nearly dove into the cement, scooting her belly along the cold floor and pressing her ear to the ground. Heart fluttering, she waited. And waited. And then she heard the sound again; it was more of a scraping this time. She turned her head, and came face to face with a panda bear. _Panda bear_? No, it was a raccoon dragging an inflatable pool raft _shaped_ like a panda across the cement floor. Stifling a scream, Ava rolled onto her back. She wiped away tears of frustration. The raccoon dragged the panda right over her feet and she giggled—did he see the black and white panda and want a friend? Shaking with manic laughter, she pounded her fists against the floor. After a few moments she quieted. _That's it—I've got to find Keegitah. I've officially lost it._

She exited the basement as fast as she'd entered and whooped in newfound excitement as she stepped outside. Loping along in the rain, she stopped suddenly. Had the stories truly had time to ripple yet? Would Keegitah know she'd come too early and dismiss her as impatient? No, Ava would go insane if she didn't get some guidance. She continued on in this way, changing her mind at every intersection. The start and stop progress added an extra hour to her trip over to Keegitah's cottage. By the time she reached the front door her copper hair was soaked through to the scalp and several shades darker.

She leaned forward to knock, but found the door already cracked open. Heart stuttering, she pushed the door in, scanning the room quickly. It was exactly as she remembered it from Lucas's memory.

When she heard the whispered, "Hello, Ava," she thought that too was a vestige of the stolen memory, but then goose bumps skittered up her arm—someone was in the room with her. She spun around to find Lucas standing directly behind her.

She bit down to keep from gasping; she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Unable to decide whether to hug him or punch him, she took a half step forward, rolling her ankle awkwardly. Lucas was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. His dimples deepened at her clumsiness.

"I've missed you," he said.

Heat crept through her body, like she'd just taken a sip of hot chocolate. Oh no, this was why Owen had insisted they confront Lucas _together_. She was like a popsicle on a sunny afternoon under his gaze. She forced herself to remember the morning her grandmother found out she'd lost the necklace. The lost look in her grandmother's eyes as she drifted away from the present, no longer tethered by her community.

Ava's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think?" he asked, voice husky. His affection unfurled from his chest like invisible tentacles, wrapping around her imploringly.

She could feel herself warming again, basking in Lucas's invisible embrace. She looked down; her skin was still wet from the rain. She exhaled and a gossamer-thin layer of ice formed over her chest before spreading across her entire body.

"Oh I see, I get Ice Queen Ava today. That won't keep me away. I'll just be your loyal knight, worshipping at your throne." His tone was chipper, playful, but there was desperation in his eyes.

"How did you know I was here?" Ava asked. "Keegitah?"

"No," Lucas said, shaking his head. "I was hoping you would find us, that you'd follow my memory. And here you are."

"You stole my necklace. My grandmother's necklace," Ava accused.

"Yes," Lucas admitted. "But I had to—"

"After everything we've been through, you stole the necklace, and planted a false one."

" _After everything we've been through_ , you didn't trust me to use the necklace," Lucas said, trying to meet her eyes.

"Oh don't play that card. You had other options. You could've talked to me. Reasoned with me."

"One does not reason with the Ice Queen," Lucas quipped. "Her word is law."

When Ava's scowl only deepened, Lucas put his hands up. "I can _use_ it, Ava. It works."

" _You_ can use it?" _An Ares could use the necklace?_

"That's why I took it." His tone was urgent, pleading. "Remember back at the canyon, when you were trying to teach me how to be a Power Ranger, or something?"

"Yes. It's kind of hard to forget being blasted two hundred feet in the air by a jet of boiling water."

Lucas smiled. Ava felt something tickle her calf. She looked down, half expecting to see another raccoon. Her ice was melting.

"It hit me later that maybe the necklace wasn't responding to you and me touching. Maybe it was responding to _me_."

Ava's brow furrowed in disbelief.

"I mean it's called an _alliance_ stone," Lucas said. "And I am the living, breathing incarnation of an alliance between the orders—both Gaia and Ares blood flows through my veins."

"No...that doesn't...all the Gaia Elders in the world couldn't—"

"But I've used it!"

Ava couldn't tell fact from fiction. They were back at the beginning, stuck in a web of lies and half-truths. "Show me," Ava commanded.

Lucas's smile faltered. "I don't have it with me. My mom...she didn't...but I can show you!" he said eagerly. "Through a linea!"

Ava ignored him. The mention of Taylah had made her heart beat very fast. "You took the necklace to find the Star Crossed?"

Lucas nodded. "I couldn't stop thinking about them..." He shook his head, scrunching his hands in his pockets. "You saw the horror of my sangstones. You know their curse. But I can't describe to you the terror of having your own murder weapon implanted in your body. The psychological torture of counting down the days, the hours until an excruciating death."

Water dripped onto the floor, flowing from Ava's elbows. Lucas fixated on the droplets, inhaling sharply. He took a step closer. "Ava—"

Ava took a step away from him.

Lucas's face contorted as if she'd hit him.

To distract herself from his wounded expression, she asked, "Did it work? Did you find the Star Crossed?"

"We've found ten so far—five pairs of Ares and Gaia teens. My mom is working on finding the rest. Or I should say Kira is...she can wield the necklace as well."

"Kira?" Ava echoed in wonder. How would the Council feel that a twelve-year-old with no training was now doing what they could not?

"Yeah we had to take turns using it. I tried to do it all myself but it was...exhausting."

At his tone, Ava studied Lucas more closely. He was lankier than before, shoulder muscles standing out across his back like mountain ridges, and there were deep bags under his eyes.

"So why are you here then? Why aren't you with the others?" she asked, pressing the point. It couldn't just be for her.

He looked at her, shrugging as if to repeat, "you know why." She felt them again, the tentacles of affection wrapping around her, melting what was left of her ice shield. He took another step towards her.

"I broke the binding," she said sharply.

As she'd hoped, this shocked Lucas into stillness. He didn't advance any further. Ava hated herself for her longing.

"I didn't know my mom was going to do it, I swear to you," Lucas said in a rush. "I only found out later...but how? How did you break it?"

"No, you first. The _thief_ answers the questions."

"'The Ice Queen Interrogates the Thief'—that's a romance novel I'd read any day of the week."

Ava snorted despite herself. Frost crackled on her cheeks as she forced herself to keep her defenses up, to ignore Lucas's charm.

"What do you want to know, _my Queen_?"

"Where are the ten teens that you rescued?"

"Ah, that I'd rather not say. I trust you, my Queen, I do. But I'll bet that good old Captain Planet is never far from your side these days and I don't want that particular information getting back to your Order."

"Yes, _Captain Planet_ has never let me down." Ava used the barb to disguise her agreement with Lucas. She didn't want the Gaia Elders to know either, not with how unpredictably they'd been acting.

"I can tell you anything else though—their names, astrological signs, favorite midnight snacks..."

"What are you going to do next?" Ava asked brusquely.

"That's easy. The one thing we all knew we'd have to do the moment we deserted our orders. Take the fight to them."

"The Gaia too?"

"If need be," Lucas said calmly.

Ava's nostrils flared.

"But we're hoping there will be no need. The Ares are the real threat and thus our real target."

"You shouldn't be telling me this."

"I know," he said, and he looked a little green. "It's the only way, Ava. Five Ares teens, five Gaia teens—more connected to each other than to their orders. The Ares teens, the ones with the sangstones embedded in their limbs, will all be dead within the year if they don't fight back. They're just such easy targets. They might as well die standing up for themselves. And their Gaia partners won't let them take a last stand alone."

"Insanity, utter insanity," Ava whispered, shaking her head. Neither of them spoke for a long moment and then Ava added, "But so incredibly brave."

Lucas let out a long breath of relief at her words.

"I want to help," Ava said.

"Really?" Lucas asked.

Ava nodded. "But only against the Ares. If I hear one word about violence or treachery against the Gaia—"

She never got to finish. Lucas closed the space between them, pulling her into a tight hug. He buried his head in her hair. "Ava," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to take the necklace but I didn't think I had a choice."

At first Ava thought the dampness on her shoulder was more of her frost shield thawing. But then she realized Lucas was crying. His body trembled with silent sobs. She pulled him closer, as if she could crush his grief with the force of her embrace.

"We weren't fast enough," Lucas murmured, his voice breaking.

"Shhh...shhhhh," Ava soothed. "It's okay, Lucas."

Ava's shoulder grew damper.

"The Makhai found them first. Four Ares teens. And their Gaia deserters."

Wordlessly Ava ran a hand through the back of Lucas's hair. His face was still pressed into her shoulder so his words were muffled. But his pain was clear.

"They died horrible deaths. Slow deaths. The pain, Ava, _the pain_ ..." He paused, breathing deeply. The trembling subsided. "We have to find the others first. Protect them from these monsters."

"We will," she whispered, squeezing his wiry frame.

Ava heard the door open and froze.

"What the—" a voice exclaimed.

_Owen's voice_. Cursing under her breath, Ava pushed Lucas away and spun around to plant herself between the two men.

Owen stood just inside the living room, chest heaving, eyes wide in rage and surprise.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said.

Ava flinched at his anger. "Owen. It's not what... _hell_ , it is what it looks like."

A root exploded through Keegitah's hardwood floor with a crash of splintering wood.

Lucas put his hands up, backing away. "Captain Planet..."

That was the exact wrong thing to say. Ava could tell as soon as the words left his mouth. Owen snorted. An osprey tore through the door, talons pointed at Lucas's face. Ava threw herself in front of the feathered missile and they collided with a yell of pain and a squawk of fury.

"Enough," Ava thundered, blood flowing from a cut on her cheek. She pressed the site of her alliance stone scar, the same place where Owen had gotten his tattoo, and he jerked to attention.

Owen stood, visibly trembling. And then his posture slackened. His shoulders relaxed. He pressed the site of his tattoo, nodding at Ava. She tugged at the threads of the stories, focusing her mind, and felt for the rain outside. She gasped as she felt each individual raindrop, millions of them, as if they were pattering against her skin. Moving her hands as if playing the harp, she redirected the raindrops, fusing them together and forming them into a cylinder of ice around Lucas.

"Sorry, Lucas, the Ice Queen must attend to something. And we can't have the thief disappearing on us again," Ava said.

Through his prison of ice, Lucas bowed at Ava. She pulled Owen into the kitchen.

"This wasn't some kind of secret rendezvous, I promise. I was just as surprised as you to find Lucas in Keegitah's house," Ava said.

Owen raised his eyebrows.

Hurriedly, Ava continued, "I came to get Keegitah's help processing the stories. I was so frustrated—not being able to communicate with Gaia after that one afternoon of breaking through."

Owen nodded. "Well _something's_ working. I've never seen you act with such finesse."

Ava paused, thinking about Owen's words. He was right. But she didn't have time to dwell on it. "Lucas figured out how to make the necklace work."

"Wait, what?" Owen exclaimed. "How?"

"It was _him_ all along. Lucas triggered its power because he has both Ares and Gaia blood. He's an incarnation of the alliance between the orders."

Owen put a hand to his forehead. "And he's using it to find the Star Crossed?"

Ava nodded.

"God, that handsome clown certainly knows how to complicate matters. What do we do about the necklace? Will he give it back to us?"

"He doesn't have the necklace," Ava murmured. "Taylah does."

Owen was talking but Ava wasn't listening. Her mind raced. She needed the necklace. But she couldn't ask Lucas and his family to abandon their search for the other teens—terrified and alone, waiting for certain death.

"We have to go with them," Ava said.

Owen stopped talking, tilting his head at her. "Who? What?"

"We have to join forces with Lucas and Taylah. It's the only thing that makes sense. We can get the necklace and bring the Star Crossed in front of the Elders as proof that peace between members of the orders is possible."

"We don't have time, Ava. Your grandmother...the Elders...Gaia's threat of volcanic apocalypse. We need the necklace. _Now_."

Ava closed her eyes, trying to bury the image of cities overrun by flame and lava from her mind.

"What do you want to do? Take it?"

Owen didn't say anything. He didn't have to; his answer was clear. Owen would take the necklace.

"They won't give it up without a fight."

"I know," Owen said calmly, sounding just like Lucas earlier that night, saying he'd be willing to take on the Gaia. Everyone was always willing to fight everyone else.

"No, we do it my way. We see what Lucas and Taylah are up to, if we can work together. And if we can't...then we take the necklace."

"Ok," Owen agreed.

Ava wished he'd put up more of a fight. She thought of her grandmother's late night walks around her big house, a ghost haunted by ghosts of her own. Guilt tasted like metal in her mouth. She wasn't sure how much longer her grandmother could hold up under the strain of losing the necklace, and Ava's decision would only prolong her agonizing wait.

"She'll understand," Ava said, but there was no conviction in her tone. Was this the life of the Alpha? Sacrificing her family for some amorphous greater good?

Owen put a hand on her shoulder. Ava met his gaze. "You know you can't tell the Order about this? Not until we know more...I understand if you want to turn back."

"Are you kidding? I've got that damn tattoo—it'd be too awkward to turn back now."

Ava blinked at the unexpected wetness in her eyes. "You're sure?"

"The Elders may not see it the same way as you do. But they've been wrong before. I knew what I was doing when I got that tattoo. I knew what it meant for my loyalties."

"Thank you," Ava whispered. She felt like a spinning top had been unleashed in her stomach.

"But I'm going to need a plan. Or five."

"We'll get you a plan," Ava promised. Stoic Owen had redirected his loyalty from the Order to her. She would rather die than let him down.

Chapter 14

"Where's Lucas?" Owen asked, coming up behind Ava on the ferry deck. "I swear, he makes me feel like a dad chasing a toddler...How do you think he'd feel about wearing one of those child leashes?"

"What?" Ava asked, engrossed in staring at the waves created by the ferry's passage. Was that a bit of curly mane? A mouth? No. Gaia was nowhere to be found.

"Where's Lucas?" Owen repeated.

"He said something about engines," Ava answered, waving her hand vaguely at the back of the vessel.

Owen said, "You can take the boy out of the Ares..."

Ava smiled, pulling her gaze away from the waves to focus on Owen.

"I'm sorry about these," Ava said, pointing at the thick metal cuffs on each of Owen's wrists. Lucas had insisted Owen wear them if he wanted to be taken to the camp where the Star Crossed were being kept. A skilled Ares warrior could incapacitate Owen in seconds with those cuffs.

"They're growing on me. Very 'gladiator chic.'"

Ava laughed but the sound was hollow.

"This is so weird...being back together, the three of us," Owen said.

"I know, especially here. It looks like we're sailing through the mists of Avalon to some mystical land."

The ferry travelled through a bank of low-hanging clouds, sailing by green islands wreathed in rocky beaches. Ava breathed deeply, welcoming the salt air into her lungs.

"Who knew the Gulf Islands were so..." Owen trailed off

" _Magical_ ," Ava finished. She tugged at her flyaway curls. "Owen, I have to ask you one last time, before we enter Narnia, are you sure you want to join us for this mission?"

"You can't get rid of me now, Ava Fae," Owen answered.

Ava smiled and leaned her shoulder into his. "Oh, thank God. We need at least one sane person in this operation."

"I can't believe Lucas and Taylah thought an _island_ would be the best place to hide ten of the most highly sought after fugitives in the world. They must stick out like a sore thumb."

"But so would any Makhai who showed up—they can easily monitor access points to their hideout. Plus the Gaia teens certainly have a tactical advantage. I mean look at this place."

They stared at the islands, their green forests glowing golden as the sun sank in the sky. Ava asked, "Any news out of DC?"

"No, nothing. It's making me nervous. If the Ares have quieted their civil war..."

"They'll have more time and resources to come after us...and the rest of the Star Crossed," Ava finished for him.

"Any word from Gaia?"

Ava shook her head. "Not a peep. It's gotten so bad, Owen—I thought my falafel ball kind of looked like Her the other day."

Owen smiled. "But there's a difference, I can feel it."

"Yeah, something has changed. You know Wolverine?"

"From _X-Men_?" Owen asked.

"Yeah. Well, between conquering my human fear and immersing myself in the stories of the Anishinaabe peoples I kind of feel like Wolverine— _reinforced_."

Owen took a step away from her, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "Reinforced with adamantium claws?"

Ava giggled. "No, or well, kind of. I feel like my whole body has been braced with this extra structure. I can feel myself standing taller. I'm not doubting myself as much."

Owen snorted.

"What?" Ava asked, defensively.

"It's just that I never thought you and doubt were on very friendly terms."

"Really?" Ava asked, genuinely surprised. "Me and doubt go _way_ back."

"Hm. I gotta say I'm a little hurt—have you and doubt been hanging out without me?"

It was Ava's turn to snort. " _Please_ , as if you've ever met doubt a day in your life."

Owen stared at her for a moment in disbelief and then let out a deep belly laugh. "And there you have it, folks, the perfect example that things are not always as they seem. Never trust outward appearances."

Ava still couldn't believe that Owen was plagued by doubts. Not knowing whether to feel better or worse, she studied the sky. The last strands of red were now playing an impossible game of tag with a deep violet that had crept over the horizon.

"Were you ever recruited for the First Impressions Club?" she asked.

Owen smiled. "No. What is this delightful society and how can I join?"

"When I was younger, maybe ten or eleven, I was fascinated by what other people thought of me, by that gap between what's happening in your own head and what's happening in everybody else's head. I was desperate to bridge that gap, to jump out of my head and into somebody else's. So I got another friend together and we'd go around to all of our peers and try to get them to tell us their first impressions of us..."

"And?"

"And it was all like the same three adjectives—nice, pretty, smart. All those ten-year-olds lying through their teeth."

"You know what I'm going to say, right? What was your first impression of me?"

Ava scrunched up her mouth in concentration. "Attentive. Acted older than you were. Comfortable in your own skin—that was really noticeable. You were the only older kid who didn't laugh at me when I asked questions. The younger kids hero worshiped you."

The crimson of the sky materialized in Owen's cheeks.

"And what about me? What'd you think of me?" Ava asked with a forced smile. _Could he hear the other questions in her tone—could she do it? Could she lead the Gaia? Was she making a terrible mistake?_

He answered her question with a question, "Do you remember when your grandma asked you to bond with another living thing? To learn something new about it?"

"Oh God...did I bond with a cockroach?"

"The other kids were in hysterics. You were already kind of on the outs—being the granddaughter of the teacher and all. And a ginger."

"Yeah that was not a great summer. Being seven years old and a half a foot taller than your peers is not a fun time."

"Yeah. I was kind of Lena's shadow that summer. And we watched you. You went around to all the different animals in the forest and the house and asked which creature they'd like to learn more about. Your interview with the porcupine was particularly enlightening." Owen smiled. "All the other creatures were curious about the cockroach. How it could survive so many catastrophes. How it had become so dependent on humanity. So you went and you bonded with that family of cockroaches living in the food prep tent. And then you came back and you gave this show-stopping speech on the insect. Even the birds were cheering from the branches."

Ava laughed, remembering the scene.

Owen's voice dropped. "That's really the day I got my tattoo. You've got a big voice, the biggest really. You'd never have to listen to anyone else again if you didn't want to. But you do. You _listen_. The Gaia love to disparage humans for moving through life without realizing the consequences of their actions. The upstairs neighbor effect—just stomping along making life on Earth pretty much unbearable for everybody else. But the Gaia can be guilty of that too...You—"

Ava jumped as a hand clamped on her shoulder. Lucas had snuck up behind them and grabbed them into an embrace. She sighed, wishing she could hear the rest of Owen's compliment.

"What can the Gaia be guilty of?" Lucas asked, eagerly. "Terrible fashion sense?" He stared pointedly at Owen's watch.

"It's a _watch_. Who cares about a watch?" Owen answered, rising to Lucas's bait.

A robotic female voice came over the loudspeaker.

We are now approaching Village Bay, the Mayne Island Ferry Terminal. Vehicle passengers, please return to your cars to prepare for departure.

Lucas grabbed at his hair in excitement, saying, "Land! My God, they've spotted land! We did it! We made it—all across the treacherous seas!"

Their ferry ride had lasted little more than an hour and at no point had they lost sight of land.

Lucas's voice rose to a shout, and he pulled Owen and Ava closer. "Friends, I'd given up all hope of settling these old bones onto solid ground one last time."

Other passengers were smiling and laughing, especially the teenage girl contingent. Lucas climbed up on a railing theatrically. Owen looked like he was going to throw himself overboard. _This was going well._

Ava grabbed Owen's hand and pulled him away from the scene before the vein throbbing in his neck exploded. They disembarked with the vehicle passengers and met up with Lucas in the parking lot outside the ferry terminal. Owen's neck veins throbbed less and less as Lucas led them along winding roads. The Ares teen melted into the forest they'd been skirting and Owen and Ava followed suit. They found Lucas standing next to a massive cedar.

"A Lifetree," Ava murmured.

"Yeah, the rescued teens are a bit...jumpy. So I like to give them a nice, long warning that it's me approaching."

"How do you—" Ava broke off as Lucas drew a knife out of his pocket and sliced a thin cut into his hand. A root extended from the ground and Lucas held his palm over the limb, letting a few drops of blood drip onto it. The root shivered and retracted.

"Very cool," Owen said. "Using a Lifetree and the Wood Wide Web as the equivalent of a DNA scanner. I'll have to remember that one."

"I should, uh, tell them I have guests. As you can imagine, they've become exceedingly wary of strangers."

Owen nodded, offering his hand to Lucas. After it was cut, a new root emerged, and Owen echoed Lucas's movements. Ava did the same.

When they were all done, Lucas smiled. "They're going to be so excited to see you. Especially you," he said, gesturing at Ava. "No offense, Captain Planet."

Owen shrugged. Ava felt suddenly sick. Would the teens be disappointed when they saw the "great" Alpha?

"Come on," Owen said, nudging her. From his smile it was clear he wanted it to be a mental nudge as well as a physical one. She smiled in return.

"Oh, watch out," Lucas barked as Owen balanced on the edge of a small river. He'd been about to step in the water when Lucas's warning forced him backwards.

Lucas continued, "One of the Gaia teens is monitoring that river. If someone steps into it, she'll ice it over...and then she'll send a surge of water down the river."

_In other words, she'll trap them in ice and drown them_ , Ava thought to herself. "These teens are quite... _aggressive_ ," she said.

"If they weren't before, they are now. That's what being hunted like foxes will do to you," Lucas said, his tone dipping from light to bitter.

"Are we getting close?" Ava asked, unnerved by the dark forest around her. It was a new feeling; usually the forest felt like home.

Something skittered across her shoulder blades and she stifled a scream. She didn't want to set off ten paranoid, murderous teenagers. The creature crawled down her arm and she saw that it was a metal centipede—a scout.

"Yes, we're definitely close now," Lucas whispered. He leaned over and brushed the centipede off her arm. She wished she was covered in centipedes. Lucas's eyes widened in surprise and she realized he must've read her emotions, confused jumble that they were. Backing away from him, she slowed her pace to fall in next to Owen. They followed Lucas in silence for another ten minutes until an unfamiliar voice called into the night, "What does the fox say?"

" _Devilled eggs_ ," Lucas shouted back.

Turning to Ava and Owen, he whispered, "The password needs a little work, but I promise, the kids are alright."

Fire flickered through the trees. Ava tensed, but saw the fire was contained. Its glow illuminated a web of hammocks strung between the trunks and branches of the cedars in front of them, as if a spider the size of a cow were weaving its home in the forest.

Ava remembered the metal spider the Ares had summoned back at Taylah's house and, without thinking, checked on her connection to the Earth. It rumbled ever so slightly back.

"What was that?" a voice called out sharply.

"It was I, Ava Fae."

There was a chorus of whispers. Ava heard one person murmur, " _The_ _Alpha_."

"Why do you call the Earth to shake?"

Ava was silent for a long moment and then she shouted back, "Because I'm afraid."

Laughter rang out above.

"Well then, join the club." At the words a metal spider descended smoothly from a thick metal cable. Ava recognized parts of a Volkswagen Beetle in its body. Its mandibles clicked loudly. Lucas stepped forward, letting the metal mandibles close around his waist and the spider hefted him skyward.

"No way," Ava muttered under her breath. "Can I make the Earth rumble again?" she called up to the unseen leader.

"By all means, _Alpha_ , show us what you've got." There was a note of challenge in the voice.

Ava smirked.

Owen put a restraining hand on her arm. She shook it off, giving him a reassuring smile. As she inhaled, she felt the stories brace her, guide her focus. She tapped against the ground with one foot, exhaled and waited. Moss and flowers trembled underfoot. Then the ground rose beneath her, lifting her ten, fifteen feet into the air. The ground shivered again and eight long legs unfolded beneath the body of an earthen spider. Ava stood atop its abdomen. She could feel the roots of the plants spreading throughout the creature, holding it together. It reared up on its back legs, stone mandibles clicking triumphantly, and Ava stepped off its back onto a wooden landing. Lucas was there already, grinning madly. With him was a young woman covered in tattoos.

Lucas said to the woman, "You've got to admit, her spider's better."

The woman glowered and then broke into a smile, reaching out a hand to shake Ava's.

"Welcome to the Island of Misfit Toys," she said dryly. "I'm Rhea." Hers was the voice that had called out the challenge earlier.

"Ava. Delighted to be here." Ava couldn't help but notice the freshly healed scars on Rhea's chest and arms.

"So I guess I'll just climb up?" Owen called from below.

"No!" Rhea shouted, eyes widening, but she was too late. Ava heard a cry of surprise and rushed to the edge of the platform. Owen was holding what looked like a barbed metal root in his hand. Blood streamed down his arm.

Before Ava could lower herself to her friend, a metal spider had slid down and gently collected the big teen. The creature deposited Owen on the platform and disappeared into the trees.

Owen stood quickly. "I'm fine."

"Do you need any help with that?" Rhea asked, pointing at Owen's bloody hand. Her eyes were feral, hungry.

"No, it's nothing," Owen replied, stoic once more.

_Except, was he blushing?_ Ava turned appraising eyes on Rhea. She was undeniably attractive—like a heavily tattooed Lupita Nyong'o. And there was something about the way she held herself, an easy confidence.

"So what was _that_ down there?" Owen asked.

Rhea smiled. "A little hybrid we've been working on. The trees in the surrounding forest kindly offered their support to our cause. We thought reinforcing a few roots might provide a nice little surprise to intruders."

"But why would it attack Owen?" Ava asked, frowning.

Rhea's smile disappeared. "The roots don't seem to be able to sense as well when they're weaponized. But we're working on it."

_Weaponized_? Ava thought to herself. _Should the roots be weaponized?_

There was an awkward pause. While trying not to meet Rhea's gaze she noticed how close the tattooed woman and Lucas were standing, how familiar they seemed with one another.

"Can we meet the others?" Ava asked abruptly.

"Almost everyone's on guard duty," Rhea replied.

Ava couldn't tell if this was a lie or not—she'd heard the whispers of several people earlier. Maybe Rhea didn't want her to meet the others? They really were a paranoid bunch. Not that Ava could blame them.

"I can relieve someone," Lucas offered.

"Really?" Rhea asked, her tone softening. She put a possessive hand on Lucas's arm. "They could really use it...after the news out of DC."

"What news?" Ava asked, perking up.

"No news, that's the problem," Rhea said dismissively. "Now that Roger's done killing off uncooperative Elders, everyone thinks he's coming for _us_."

"Oh," Ava said, feeling suddenly like she'd been caught daydreaming in class.

"I wouldn't look so serene if I were you," Rhea snapped.

" _Excuse_ me?" Ava replied.

"They're going to come down on the Gaia like a hammer. Roger and his cronies have churned out mountains of propaganda and every last word of it blames the Gaia for the disappearance of the Ares teens. They say the Gaia bewitched, kidnapped, and killed the thirty-three missing kids. Their families want blood. _Gaia_ blood," Rhea said, relishing Ava's horror.

Branches lashed within an inch of the tattooed woman's head.

"Good. I'm glad that makes you angry," Rhea said. "We need your anger. But don't worry too much, _Alpha_. Before they go after you, they have to kill us. Every last one. Because if it got out that an entire cohort of the most promising Ares warriors had deserted the Order...for Gaia witches, no less..."

"So let's tell your story," Ava said. "Broadcast to the whole world that you're alive. Let's shatter the Ares narrative and with it their unity."

"And alert them to the fact that we're still out there?" Rhea sneered. "That we're organizing? No, our only advantage is surprise."

Ava shook her head. "But we could help you spread the word. The Gaia Elders—"

"Right, because I hear you're on such good terms with the Gaia Elders."

_How did she know that?_ Lucas looked quickly away as Ava tried to glare at him. That was it—she loathed him. _Loathed him. Loved him. Loathed him_.

Lucas spoke, "Ok, why don't we finish this conversation after dinner? Maybe breaking bread together will help us remember we're on the same side."

_Were they though?_ Ava was no longer so sure.

"Let's give Ava the grand tour," Lucas said, nudging Rhea.

"Right, follow me," Rhea said.

The four of them moved along wooden walkways built high in the trees. Fanning out from the walkways was the netting they'd seen earlier. Some of the netting held gear; some of it was for sleeping. The sleeping spaces were lined with cedar and pillows. Ava was tempted to peel off from the group and curl into one of the giant hammocks. The temptation paled when she saw a whole family of metal spiders clicking and skittering along a steel web to her left. There were hundreds of spiders scuttling through the trees, their silver bodies mottled by firelight. They seemed to be on both repair and guard duty. It looked like two spiders were actually building _more_ netted areas, deftly weaving wire cables.

"How many people are staying here again?" Ava asked.

"We're hoping for more," Lucas said mysteriously.

_How many more?_ Ava wondered. _This place could house an army._

As they walked over yet another wooden platform, Ava looked down to see a young woman standing ankle deep in a stream, eyes closed in concentration. It must be the Gaia teen who could make the river surge.

Finally they arrived at an enclosed octagonal structure, essentially an elaborate tree house fort. Rhea turned to Lucas, playfully jabbing him in the chest. "I know how _famished_ you get after a little exercise, so I made sure to leave a little extra food for you, including your favorite..."

Ava jammed her hands into her pockets, fighting the intense urge to run them all over Lucas's chest, just like Rhea. Her jealousy was like a maddening itch; her hands crept out of her pockets. Panicked, she kicked her foot against the ground, stubbing her toe. She hoped the pain would mask her emotional turmoil. She couldn't bear for Lucas to pick up on it. Especially if he didn't feel the same way.

"I'll find you after dinner," Lucas said.

Rhea nodded and stretched her back like a cat. Ava half expected her to rub herself against Lucas's shins as she left. And why should Ava care? Half of her despised Lucas. The other half...the other half should get its mind out of the gutter.

Lucas welcomed her and Owen into the house, which was outfitted much like the captain's quarters on a ship.

"Sweet digs," Owen said, collapsing into a chair. "I can't believe how quickly you built this place."

"Everyone was very _motivated_ ," Lucas said. "And the spiders help."

"Ah, right. I guess the Ares really know how to _develop_ a place," Owen said, a bite in his tone.

Ava interjected, waving at the door, "So are they all like that?"

"Cheery and open?" Lucas joked. "No, they're all pretty normal teens...once you wade through the torture and revenge stuff. Rhea's partner, Daniel, was killed the first night, the night we...fled my father's house. She escaped, just barely, and started looking for the other disappeared teens on her own."

Ava's guilt was like a scarf around her neck suddenly pulled too tight. How would she act if Lucas had been killed by his father on that horrible night?

Owen got straight to the point. "This place can house at least a hundred people—who exactly are you expecting?"

Lucas didn't say anything for a moment. "We're thinking of this place as a long term investment."

"What exactly does that mean?" Ava asked.

"It's a symbol. That we're not just on a suicide mission. That we'll need someplace to come back to when we're done. Every one of these teens left family and friends behind, and if we succeed, we'll need a home base where we can bring our loved ones away with us."

The plan was far bolder than Ava had imagined. "And your timeline?"

"We've accelerated it," Lucas said. "Our only advantage against the Ares is surprise—which won't hold much longer as our army grows."

"Good," Ava said, nodding and thinking about her visions of fire. About Gaia's ultimatum—make peace with the Ares and stop the destruction of the planet or the Earth Mother would take matters into her own hands. They didn't have much time.

"Owen and I can go to the Elders. They've been meeting less and less...but my grandmother can call a Council..." _Would the Council still listen to her grandmother?_

"I was hoping you'd speak to your Elders. We could use all the reinforcements we can get," Lucas said.

"But...I need the necklace. My grandmother..." Ava trailed off. "My grandmother said the Elders will never listen to us without it. We can figure out what to do with it after that..."

"Kira and Taylah will be back any day. With the necklace," Lucas replied. He couldn't quite meet her eyes. "If it were up to me..."

"We know," Owen said, surprising Ava.

"Blackberries?" Lucas asked, offering a bowl around. "It's way before their season but Rhea gets them for me from this special spot she knows about. She won't tell the rest of us where it is."

Ava blanched.

Owen gestured for Lucas to pass the basket his way. Lucas offered it to Ava and she shrank away from him. His smile faltered. Ava realized that he'd misread the reason for her dismay. But she couldn't correct his mistake without making herself seem like a silly little girl spooked by her own dreams.

"I've got to take over guard duty," Lucas said curtly, not meeting Ava's eyes.

"I can relieve somebody as well," Owen offered.

Lucas nodded his thanks.

"Me too," Ava said, eager to redeem herself.

"No," Lucas and Owen said at the same time.

"Not that again," she said, eyes hardening. "Didn't the binding teach you anything? Your protection looks a lot like oppression."

Lucas and Owen looked sheepish. Owen said, "I'll find you later. You can take over my post."

Ava nodded, not wanting to protest too much. She had other plans. "It's fine, I need to practice my powers anyway." She didn't add that she'd be practicing alone, in the dead of the night.

She gave Lucas and Owen a ten-minute head start and then climbed out the window of the tree house. Pausing to listen to the night, she heard the incessant clicking of the spiders but nothing else. Every muscle tensed, she grabbed ahold of the trunk to work her way down. Remembering Owen's run in with the barb-tipped root, she called water from a nearby stream to surge up the trunk, icing over everything in its path. It was a long way down—thirty feet at least. Near the bottom she dropped silently in the dirt. Rolling on the ground, she invited the dirt to blend with her skin, camouflaging her and blocking her scent. There was a rustling from above. Ava's head shot up so quickly her neck creaked, but it was just another spider skittering across the wire netting.

_Now, how to find that magical blackberry bush_? She thought back to her afternoon with Keegitah. The professor had said listening was a full-body experience—engaging all of the senses, the head, and the heart.

Her head and heart were distracted, beset with doubt, guilt, longing, and wild, fluttering hope. She lowered herself back into the dirt, pressing her palms into the earth. She felt the trees around her inhale carbon dioxide and exhale oxygen. She lost herself in the inexorable rhythm, her own heart synching with the beat of the forest.

_There, she could hear it_. _The blackberry bush was a whisper in the wind_. She commando-crawled across the ground. Something swooped over her. She peered up to see an eagle disappear into the tree cover. The camp had recruited eagles to be an extra set of eyes. Between the birds and the spiders they had a sizeable fighting force. What other dangers awaited her in the night? She thought of Lucas's warnings about the paranoid teens and their vicious traps.

Ava's connection to the natural world was porous, permeable. It was hard to tell where her senses ended and the world began. Now she made that connection even more permeable, feeling for the hidden dangers around her. She felt the river, thick with a foreign energy, ready to trap and drown. She sensed roots and branches that had been fused with metal—the trees still adjusting to their new steel limbs. The ground surrounding the camp was littered with shrapnel—tools for the Ares teens to wield against unwanted guests. Ducking and weaving, she moved soundlessly around the obstacles. The evasion took an immense amount of focus, draining her of energy. After a few minutes she'd lost the whispered song of the blackberry bush.

She inhaled, letting the scent of cedar overwhelm her. _There, to the north_. She could hear it again, a little louder this time. She pulled herself into a crouch. When nothing moved in response, she stood.

A twig skittered in the wind. It righted itself as if pulled by some unseen hand and began dancing in the breeze. Mesmerized by its waltz through the dirt, Ava didn't immediately realize that the squiggles left in its wake were actually letters. Big, loopy, cursive letters.

"H. E. L... _hello!_ Hello again, Ava," Ava whispered to herself. She turned to the sky, a smile on her face. "Hello, Earth Mother."

A gust of wind jerked the stick up and away. Ava jumped for it but it disappeared into the dark. She stomped her foot against the ground, staring at the letters to make sure of what she'd seen. The line in the dirt expanded, racing off into the night. Ava sprinted to keep up, following her own version of the Yellow Brick Road. Jumping and twisting through the trees, she followed the line deep into the forest and away from the camp. Focusing on the ground, Ava nearly ran straight into the blackberry bush. It was more of a shrub, nothing impressive. As she teetered into it, two of its branches swung up, half to brace her and half to embrace her. And then Ava saw Her. There in the leaves and clumps of berries was the rough likeness of Gaia's face.

Righting herself with a cough of embarrassment, Ava stared at Gaia, waiting for Her next move. A berry plopped into the dirt at Ava's feet. Another trembled and began to fall. Ava snatched it out of the air, and, not knowing what else to do, shoved it in her mouth. She felt love, so blinding that she fell to her knees. She wanted to close her eyes and bask in the feeling, but she saw another berry falling and another. She dove to catch them.

She looked down to find three more berries in her hand. Excitedly she plopped another into her mouth. Fear engulfed her, stronger than even the terror she'd felt before, stripped of her powers. She curled into the fetal position, rocking her body into the dirt. Something sharp pricked her shoulder, a thorn from the tree, and she came back to herself long enough to eat another berry. Anger tore at her chest. She roared into the night air. A murderous rage overtook her and she started scratching at her own flesh. The sight of blood on her hands made her gasp and she managed to force another berry into her mouth. _Hope_ —a lightness like the eagle's flight filled her mind. She was soaring. So Gaia felt much the same as Ava—She still had hope. Ava laughed and whispered to the bush, "Not yet. Don't set off the volcanoes yet. We need a little more ti—"

Ava screamed as something sharp pierced her calf. She dropped and rolled away from her attacker only to see a metal spider the size of a minivan bowl into the blackberry bush, shredding it with its mandibles. Ava screamed again and couldn't stop. _What had happened to Gaia?_

The metal beast turned on her, legs and pincers now stained red with the juice of the berries it had shredded. As it advanced towards her, Ava pushed herself into the ground. The Earth bucked against her, trying to pull her away from the encroaching threat.

Just as a mandible raked her arm, a figure dropped out of the trees and onto the spider's back with a thunk.

"Stop," Lucas commanded. At his voice, roots erupted from the earth to bind the spider's many legs. Hopelessly entangled, the spider fell like a stone. Unfortunately, Ava was still beneath the creature. It crashed against a band of ice, two feet thick, which had materialized over Ava's chest. _I am the Ice Queen_ , she thought grimly, staring defiantly at the metal spider above her.

"Ava!" Lucas yelled and rushed to her side. He grunted and gestured at the roots to drag the spider off of Ava's chest. The band of ice arcing over her sternum shivered and collapsed into water, soaking them both.

"Did you hit your head?" he asked, expertly binding the cut on her leg. "Where else are you hurt?"

Ava gasped for breath. And then, her shock subsiding, she remembered the spider barreling through Gaia's tangible form. Frantically, her hands scrabbled in the dirt, trying and failing to feel a connection with Gaia. _Was She hurt?_ _Or worse?_

Ava looked up to realize Lucas was talking to her, had been talking to her for a while.

"What happened? Why are you out here all by yourself?"

She couldn't speak, fingers digging, searching for Gaia's energy.

"Ava," Lucas said sharply. "Talk to me, please." His tone softened and he repeated, " _Please_."

She wanted to, oh how she wanted to. But she couldn't give voice to this particular horror. Lucas shouldn't have to share this burden.

"I'm afraid," she said, repeating her phrase from earlier that night, this time without bravado.

"So afraid that you ventured far out into the most booby-trapped forest in the world. Alone. After both Owen and I asked you not to. Which I now see was an exceedingly poor strategy on our part."

She tried to smile. "I decided I wanted some of those blackberries after all."

"Oh, Ava Fae, what are we going to do with you?"

_Oh, Lucas, what are you going to do with me? I have some suggestions_ , she thought to herself.

Lucas continued, "Oh and I see you destroyed the special blackberry bush while you were at it, of course." He rummaged through the dirt next to them, presenting her with a handful of crushed berries. "Your berries, my Queen."

Ava paled at the red juice dripping down his arms and looked away.

"No, don't do that. Don't withdraw." Lucas's tone was pleading. "We need you. _I_ need you."

Her heart executed a flip turn. She waited for him to continue.

"Lucas!" Rhea's voice pierced the quiet. "Is everything ok?"

"Yup," Lucas called. "I had to take out one of your pets but that shouldn't be too hard to fix."

"What?" Rhea said sharply, emerging through the trees. "What the hell?" She surveyed the crumpled spider and mauled bush. "Who did this?"

Lucas tried to answer but Ava spoke over him, "I did."

"Good one," Rhea muttered, and Ava had an intense desire to throttle her.

"I needed to commune with Gaia," Ava said, pitching her voice to sound as authoritative as possible.

"This is how you commune with your Earth Mother?" Rhea replied with enough sarcasm to curdle milk.

But Ava didn't mind this time. In fact, she smiled widely. A ladybug had just landed on her hand. Instead of sporting black spots across its red body, it had miniature alliance stones. Gaia was unharmed, and still supportive of Ava's plan for a truce between the orders. The insect flitted from her hand to her jacket pocket, tracing circles over the pocket seam. Ava reached a hand inside and felt something soft. Blackberries, two of them. _How had they gotten there?_ Ava remembered the tree's awkward embrace earlier and grinned. The berries weren't just a tool for Gaia to communicate, they were gifts...weapons. She felt a faint shadow of the hope that had warmed her before. Suddenly buoyant, she stood and pulled Lucas to his feet. Then she drew him into a long, lingering hug, pushing her whole body against his.

"I need you too," she whispered.

Chapter 15

Owen, Ava, and Lucas sat huddled in Lucas's quarters, surrounded by maps, almanacs, electronics that Ava couldn't even identify, and the scraps of two hurried meals.

"You have to be kidding me," Owen said.

"You're the one who wanted a plan," Lucas replied.

"This isn't a plan," Owen said. "It's a fever dream crossed with a circus."

Lucas pushed himself up from the ground and moved to sit on Owen's lap, curling into the fetal position. "Here, will this make you less grumpy? A little nostalgia from our honeymoon in Australia?"

Owen smiled and pulled Lucas tight to his chest like an infant. "Little baby's missing his pops?"

Lucas laughed and rolled out of Owen's embrace, scattering the maps.

Ava said, "It's true, there are a lot of moving parts, but I can't shake the feeling there's an underlying brilliance to its insanity."

"Take me through it again," Owen said. "Maybe I'll see the genius this time and not just the insanity."

There was a knock at the door and Rhea entered.

"You wanted to see me?" she said.

"Yes," Lucas said. "We need your thoughts on our plan."

"It's not a plan yet," Owen corrected. "We need your thoughts on our fever dream."

"Ten hours later and all you have is a fever dream? I liked our other plan," Rhea said. "Find Roger. Kill him or die trying. Cut out the gangrene of the Makhai once and for all."

"We've added more nuance to the plan," Ava said.

"There can be no truce, no peace while Roger leads the Ares," Rhea said.

"It's true," Ava replied. "Roger's path is one of violence and destruction. And Gaia will trigger a volcanic apocalypse if we don't break the Ares from that path. So Roger has to go. On that, we agree."

"So why do we need more nuance?" Rhea asked.

"You try figuring out how to beat a seven-hundred-year-old Order with an army that resembles The Island of Misfit Toys," Ava said.

"Have you heard of the Citadel?" Lucas asked Rhea.

"I've heard rumors," Rhea said. "But I always thought they were stories made up to scare little Ares children. Like sangstones..." She trailed off, grimacing.

Lucas nodded. "Another bedtime story that's actually true. The Elders shroud it in secrecy so unwanted guests can never even find it, let alone break into it. But thanks to my father's fondness for whiskey, I know where it is."

Rhea lifted an eyebrow.

"My father was less than discrete after a few drinks," Lucas said. "And I used to listen to his drunken ramblings with the keenness of a hawk."

Ava frowned; she knew why Lucas had been listening. He was waiting for any word of his disappeared mother.

"So where is it?" Rhea asked.

"DC," Lucas said. "Deep underground, near the Lincoln Memorial. You know the older generations of Ares revered Lincoln."

"What's the catch?" Rhea said.

"Only an Ares can get in," Lucas said. "Apparently there's this whole intricate maze of metal beneath the city that the most powerful members of the Ares can follow to the Citadel."

" _Pretty standard_ ," Rhea said.

"The problem is that the Citadel itself is designed to be impervious to Ares powers," Lucas said.

"So the Elders can't hurt one another when they're inside?" Rhea asked.

"Exactly. That's the genius of the Citadel. Only an _Ares_ can get in, only a _non-Ares_ can use their powers once inside. My dad loved it. What the Ares didn't plan on was _me_." He pointed at the left side of his face. "Ares." Then he pointed at the right side. "Gaia."

Rhea smiled. "And you really think you can find it?"

"Yup, I love puzzles," Lucas said excitedly, as if he were talking about the Sunday crossword and not a grueling underground gauntlet.

"So we round up the Ares Elders into the Citadel?" Rhea said. "Don't you still have a sangstone? In your heart? And you'll be locked in a bunker with some of the most powerful Ares in the world."

"I think I can handle it," Lucas answered. "Any Ares Elder in the Citadel won't have access to her powers. But _I_ will."

Ava added, "And we'll provide cover and distraction while Lucas is underground."

"Ok, but how do we make sure ordinary citizens don't get mixed up in this whole thing?" Rhea said. "It is only the nation's _capital_ we're attacking."

"I've been thinking about that," Owen said. "DC is home to Brood X, one of the largest broods of cicadas in the world. I think we could invite our friends to emerge a little early. The drama of seeing the entire sky blacked out by cicadas will _inspire_ a lot of people to stay home. And for the more intrepid ones, a little April snowstorm should do the trick. And when I say little...Ava, you'll do the honors?"

Ava rubbed her hands together. "If an inch of snow can bring DC to its knees, just wait until you see the blizzard I have in store. I'm going to mix in some freezing rain. We can ice over doors and windowpanes, effectively locking people inside and blocking the view from their homes."

"This all sounds very Old Testament," Rhea said.

"It will be pretty terrifying for the residents of DC," Ava said. "But less terrifying than what's in store for them if Roger keeps control of the Ares."

"While we're going all ten plagues on DC, Lucas will be sneaking into the bunker and breaking it open so we can surround the Ares Elders," Owen said.

"How will you get the Elders down there in the first place?" Rhea asked.

"That's where I come in," Ava said with a Cheshire cat grin. "I'm going to make my presence known in a big way and watch them scatter into their lair like mice."

Rhea nodded. "So once we have all the Ares Elders together—"

"We set out our peace terms," Ava interjected, not liking the look in Rhea's eyes.

"Sure, we set our peace terms...and we kill the ones who don't agree," Rhea replied easily.

Ava winced, jamming her hands into fists. Owen stepped between the two women. "I only count twelve egregious flaws in this plan," he said. "Definitely our best one yet."

He put a hand up to high-five Rhea. She tapped his hand half-heartedly.

"Why can't we just send in an army of spider drones?" Ava said. "I mean they are the perfect self-replicating army."

Much to her horror, Ava had learned that the mechanical spiders would sneak out at night to hotwire cars in surrounding neighborhoods and build more of themselves.

"The Ares would neutralize them in a second," Rhea answered. "Worse, they'd hijack control and send them back to attack us."

"Ok, got it, no army of spider drones," Ava said. "I know we barely have a real plan yet...but I'd also like to work on a contingency plan in case Gaia suddenly unleashes the nuclear option. If we can't remove the Makhai and forge peace with the rest of the Ares...hundreds of millions of people will be at risk. Especially those already living at the margins."

"Actually," Lucas said. "Over the last couple of weeks I've been quietly reaching out to government contacts in cities and countries near active volcano sites."

"You have?" Ava asked, surprised.

Lucas nodded. "Your visions really freaked me out. I've learned the hard way to take whatever comes out of that ginger head of yours seriously."

Ava felt a rush of affection for the Ares teen.

"Anyway," Lucas continued. "I wanted to make sure these cities had robust evacuation plans. And to warn that they might need them."

"Are you using old Ares contacts?" Ava asked.

Lucas grinned. "Oh no, allow me to introduce you to Martin Hassan of the United Nations Geophysics Lab," he said with a flourish, before bowing to the room. Affecting a British accent, he continued, "Our lab is conducting some very exciting but _highly confidential_ research. Our goal is to allow governments more warning time for earthquakes and volcanic activity. Your city has been identified..." He switched back to his regular voice. "I have one or two friends in high places who can vouch for Martin Hassan's research."

Owen shoved Lucas gently. "Nice one."

"That's... _amazing,_ " Ava said. "And the animals. How can we warn them?"

" _They_ usually warn _us_ ," Owen quipped.

"My mom and I have been working on that problem for a while," Lucas said. "We didn't want any animals to be collateral damage when we began our assault on the Ares. It's not perfect but we've started implementing a two-pronged strategy. There's a contingent of humpback whales staying off the southern tip of the island right now. They've volunteered to craft a new song and disperse across the globe, singing about the dangers of a succession of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions."

"Genius," Owen murmured.

Lucas continued, "And we've tried to get word out to as many bird populations as possible. You know how other animals have learned to interpret their warnings? We've urged them to start preparing a warning about volcanic eruptions."

"Wow. Your mom thinks of _everything_ ," Ava said. _Including binding and drugging me against my will_ , she added in her head.

Before anyone could respond, a call came from outside, "Taylah's here!"

Ava's stomach churned. The woman who had tricked her into a torturous binding, who had helped steal her grandmother's necklace, was here. She'd been dreading this moment.

Ava looked up to find Lucas and Owen staring at her expectantly. Rhea had apparently already ducked out to greet the newcomers.

"I need to talk to Taylah before we brief her on the new plan," Ava said.

"Or we could still just take the necklace and run," Owen offered. "I can saddle up one of those spiders and we can ride off into the sunset."

"As if you could wrangle one of our spiders," Lucas said, nudging Owen good-naturedly. The Gaia warrior pushed him back and they broke into a friendly tussle, conveniently avoiding the situation at hand.

"I'll go now," Ava said abruptly.

Lucas looked up from the headlock Owen had him in. "Should I go with you?"

"No. You keep doing...whatever it is that you're doing," Ava said.

Ava strode along wooden platforms and woven pods, trying to ignore the burning in her stomach and the tightness in her chest. Vines snaked down towards her, patting her head, neck, and shoulders. One green sprout detached itself completely and slithered around her hair to form a diadem. Like a fretting mother, the forest wanted her to look her best for her meeting with Taylah.

She could hear Rhea and Taylah talking animatedly before she saw them, circling around one last massive tree trunk. They turned at her approach.

"Hello, Ava," Taylah said with a smile.

"Hello, Taylah," Ava replied curtly. "May I speak to you?"

"Certainly," Taylah said.

Ava turned on her heel and walked off into the camp, knowing the older woman would follow. She glanced over her shoulder to see Taylah groping the air around her as if searching for misplaced keys. Ava grinned.

Taylah looked up at her, eyes wide. "You broke my binding."

Ava didn't say anything. She had a hunch silence was her friend now.

"How?" Taylah asked, taking a quick step back from Ava.

Ava's grin widened. _Taylah was afraid_. "I immersed myself in my own fear, and came out the other side." She injected her tone with as much mystery as she could muster. She sensed for the first time that she had the upper hand with Taylah and she didn't want to lose it. "Why did you bind me against my will?"

Taylah looked smaller, deflated. When she spoke her voice was hushed, "I thought it was the only way. You were so headstrong...I knew our fledgling cause would crumble without a leader—"

"A figurehead," Ava interjected angrily. "You didn't want my leadership. You wanted my name. My title."

"Yes," Taylah admitted. "I thought it was more important to have you alive, and bound, than to risk letting you die."

"And what made you think you had the right to that decision?"

Taylah opened her mouth and then closed it quickly. _There—what was she hiding?_ _What were she and Lucas not telling her?_

"What?" Ava pushed, taking a step closer. "Tell me what you're hiding. No more secrets."

Taylah shook her head. "You're right. It was not my decision to make...and I'm sorry."

There was a chorus of clicking from overhead. Metal spiders were massing on the netting above Ava, drawn by Taylah's distress. The chorus rose to a metallic wail as the tree branches holding the netting began to sway wildly, tipping the spiders into one another. Ava wondered if Taylah would rise to her challenge. Pent-up rage hummed through her veins like sap through a tree. A spider skittered down the tree trunk beside Ava, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

"What's going on here?" Rhea said sharply, appearing out of the trees. "You'll set the entire camp off—tree against spider, Gaia against Ares."

"Mom, Ava, is everything ok?" Lucas appeared behind Rhea. He glared at the spider next to Ava and it hurried back into the metal webbing.

"Lucas," Taylah exclaimed, pulling her son into a tight hug.

He allowed the embrace but kept his arms at his side. Taylah looked up, chastened.

"I was just coming to tell you how _excited_ we all are that Ava's joined our mission," Lucas said.

"Yes, yes, of course," Taylah said, raising her hands towards Ava. "We are excited, _truly_. Kira's talked of little else since she heard the news...I got a little carried away just now."

Ava felt regret rising off the older woman, but didn't trust it.

"Ava!" a child's voice called. Moments later, Kira slammed into Ava, wrapping her arms around her waist.

Ava laughed, steadying herself. "Hey there, Kira—how's it going?"

"Good! We just found fourteen more of the Star Crossed," Kira said proudly.

Ava looked at Taylah, raising her eyebrows.

Taylah nodded in confirmation. Rhea smiled at the news and leaned in to whisper something to Taylah, who turned away from Ava and Kira.

Ava's mind whirled. The new teens brought the number of Order members at the camp to twenty-four, not counting Owen, Lucas, Ava, and Taylah. It really was shaping into a small army.

"Wow, that's awesome, Kira!" Ava chirped. "I heard you get to help wield the alliance stone necklace?"

Kira nodded happily.

"What's it like?" Ava asked, keeping her voice low. She glanced at Taylah, who was still engrossed in conversation.

"Hmm. It's kind of like trying to hold a wriggly puppy. Except picture the biggest puppy you've ever seen," Kira said, releasing Ava to mime how big the hypothetical creature was.

"Whoa, I'm so impressed you can handle it." _You have no idea how impressed_ , she added in her head.

"It's not too hard," Kira said, beaming. "It just makes me really sleepy after I use it for a while."

"I'll bet," Ava said. "Maybe you can show me sometime?"

"Sure!" Kira said. "Will you show me how to summon one of those mini cyclones? Like the one..." she trailed off, her face clouding over. Kira's house in Australia had burned to the ground the night she'd seen Ava's tornado. Her whole life had been turned upside down. Ava remembered how very young Lucas's sister was, only twelve years old.

"Kira," Lucas said, walking over to them, "come with me, I've got some blackberries for you!" He put an arm around his sister's shoulder, pulling her close.

"I'll come too," Taylah said eagerly.

"Actually, can you stay a moment, Taylah?" Ava said. She gestured that the others should go ahead without them. "Wait for us back at headquarters. We can brief Taylah on the plan then."

Lucas nodded, saying, "You got it, _boss_."

Taylah's mouth tightened at the word.

Lucas led Kira through the webbing, calling Rhea to join him. Taylah and Ava were alone once more.

Ava stared at Lucas's mother. "Enough, Taylah. _Enough_ ," she said, her voice steely.

Taylah glared back for a moment and then sighed. "You're right," the older woman began. "There are things I'm not telling you. There are things I'm not telling Lucas. Things I'm not telling the rest of the camp. Hell, there are things I won't admit to myself. Over the last decade I've built a life out of not telling people things. I've become an expert at hiding, disappearing, lying. And it's kept Kira and me alive...while a violent, immensely powerful abuser was hunting us down. All I can offer is that I have your... _our_ best interests at heart."

When Ava didn't say anything, Taylah continued, "I'd understand you for not trusting me. But trust this—Lucas would disown me if I harmed you. That truth is clearer than ever...And I would never"—her voice trembled—" _never_ lose him a second time."

"I trust Lucas," Ava said. _Mostly_ , she added in her head. "And for now I trust that we want the same thing. So I'll work with you. _But_ ..." Ava drew out the last word, her voice threatening.

"That is enough for me," Taylah said, extending her hand.

Ava reached out her own hand to clasp Taylah's. "To peace between the orders."

"To peace between the orders," Taylah repeated.

"To peace between the orders," a third voice called through the trees.

"Keegitah?" Ava shouted.

"Ava!" the professor replied.

"What are you doing here?" Ava asked

Taylah answered, "I've been wanting to show Keegitah around this place." She gestured at the bustling fortress in the trees.

"I couldn't quite believe Taylah's stories," Keegitah said. "Speaking of stories, I can see the stories have been rippling for you."

"Really? You can tell?" Ava asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

Keegitah just smiled.

"Ah, the mysterious Keegitah smile," Taylah said. "I've been on the receiving end of one of those many times."

"It drives my students wild," Keegitah admitted. "But..." she trailed off, sliding back into what was apparently her signature smile.

Ava and Taylah exchanged a look. Taylah was relaxed now, jocular even. She obviously didn't get to be around old friends often.

A scream shocked Ava out of her musing. A second later, branches slammed into the wooden platform where they were standing, forming a protective cage around Ava. She turned wildly in the space, looking for the threat. Neither Keegitah nor Taylah looked ruffled. Taylah was even smiling at the tree's reaction.

"What was that?" Ava asked, gripping the tree limbs ensnaring her.

"The sangstones," Taylah answered.

Ava felt bile rising in her throat. "The new rescues? They're getting their sangstones removed?"

Taylah nodded. "Don't look so upset. This is a celebratory day in their lives. We'll have a small party for them later to mark it."

Another scream pierced the forest. Ava shivered, but the branches barricading her receded, the wooden claw released its grip.

Owen jogged out of the night. "We're ready for you in the command quarters."

Soldier Owen had already integrated seamlessly into the military outfit of the camp.

"Wonderful, let's debrief," Ava said, smiling at Owen and striding further into the trees. A hand on her shoulder stopped her short.

" _Let's_ _debrief_ ," Keegitah said, echoing Ava's officious tone.

Ava smiled. "Let's, please," she replied. Turning to Owen and Taylah, she said, "I'll be there in a moment. In the meantime, Taylah, please share any intelligence you gathered on this new trip with the others."

The older woman met Ava's eyes, nodding her assent, and she and Owen slipped into the night.

"What's new?" Keegitah asked after they were gone.

"I saw Her. I heard Her," Ava exclaimed before rushing into her story. She told Keegitah everything—the dream where she'd first seen Keegitah and the blackberries, Gaia's likeness in the blackberry bush, and the spider mauling Gaia's tangible form.

"Wait, why are you frowning like that?" Ava said. "Do you think it _did_ do something to Gaia? Did it hurt Her?"

"That I must confess I do not know..." Keegitah said, trailing off.

Keegitah's measured manner was agonizing.

"But," Ava prompted.

"But it's worrisome. The dream is important, obviously. But ambiguous."

"What does it mean?"

"A good question, but, alas, another one I cannot answer. What do _you_ think it means?"

"That I'll have blood on my hands. The blood of friends, of families, of strangers."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Keegitah said. "And the fact that She has revealed Herself to you so many times is promising. The stories seem to be helping you listen for Her in the landscape."

Ava nodded in vigorous assent. "Can I see Her when I need to? Can I talk to Her?"

Keegitah raised an eyebrow and Ava felt instinctively that she'd said the wrong thing.

"Did you believe in Santa Clause as a child?"

Ava shook her head. "No, but lots of my friends did."

"Did they ever wonder how Santa reached millions...billions of children in one night?"

"Yeah. And if they didn't, I wondered it for them," Ava said with a grin.

"Unlike Santa Clause, Gaia actually _does_ have billions of children to tend to. Hundreds of billions, every day. You might be Her favorite one. But..."

Ava blushed. "Right. So my job is to listen. I can do that," she said eagerly.

"I'm not saying you should never talk to Her, especially if She initiates. I've spoken to Her myself," Keegitah said, the mysterious smile back.

"About what?" Ava asked.

Keegitah paused for a long time, studying Ava. "She wanted to know where I got my boots," Keegitah said, straight-faced.

"I was wondering that myself," Ava said with a smile.

Keegitah tilted her head, as if listening to some unheard call. "You should join the others."

Ava nodded. She wanted to argue but she recognized the dismissal in Keegitah's tone.

* * *

Ava took the long way back to the headquarters, climbing and swinging through the trees to stay as far away as possible from the metal spiders patrolling the camp. Gathered in the headquarters were Owen, Lucas, Rhea, and Taylah. Quickly Lucas traced the outline of their new plan. When he got to the point in the plan where he would be moving along the underground maze of metal to the Citadel without reinforcements, Taylah cut in, "Absolutely not. Breaking into the Ares Citadel is suicide." She paused and then added in a rush, "I can go. I have Gaia and Ares blood—"

"It's not just the blood, Mom," Lucas said. "You have to be able to use your Gaia powers. Make the earth shake, the sky thunder. And you can't."

"I can learn," Taylah said eagerly. "Keegitah can teach me. There's time."

"You _cannot_ learn. There is _not_ time," Ava said calmly.

"You'll let him do this?" Taylah said, swinging wildly around to face the rest of them.

"Mom, I'm sorry. But this is the only way...Otherwise we're all just marked men and women, living on borrowed time, waiting for Roger and his Makhai savages to find us. I want to _live_ ," he said, looking at Ava. She shivered at his gaze.

"And Kira needs you," Lucas added.

Ava recognized the resignation in his tone. There was a man who thought he'd already be dead, who'd accepted his fate long ago. That's what the sangstones did to a person.

Ava moved towards the mother and son huddle. "We'll protect him, Taylah." She spoke with so much force she exhaled a small wind. It swirled through Lucas's hair, flapping at Taylah's sleeves, driving home Ava's conviction.

"We will," Rhea echoed.

"Yes," Owen said, nodding forcefully.

"What do you need from me?" Taylah asked, eyes bright with tears.

Lucas smiled at his mother and continued describing the plan.

When he'd finished, Ava said to Rhea, "Can you speak to the others? See if they're with us? We're asking a lot of them, especially given what they've just escaped."

"They'll be with you," Rhea said, her voice harboring no doubt. "But, yes, I'll speak to them."

"And I must reach out to my network," Taylah said. "You three...you three should enjoy the rest of this beautiful evening."

Ava heard what Taylah had left unsaid—it might be the last one they'd get to enjoy for a long time.

When the older woman had left, Lucas nudged Owen. "That begs the question—do you know _how_ to enjoy a beautiful evening, Captain Planet?"

"I think I'll wrangle myself a spider," Owen said with a smile.

"Now that I've got to see," Ava said.

Chapter 16

True to his word, Owen spent several hours trying to wrangle a spider, running through the forest and waving a vine over his head like a lasso. The spiders, or whoever was controlling them, played along. The metal creatures would move close, teasing Owen, and then skitter away. Lucas and Ava followed the merry pursuit further and further into the forest, laughing until they were crying.

The metal creatures lured Owen so far out into the trees that they came upon the mechanical spider Lucas had knocked out several days ago when he found it attacking Ava. Owen gave up on his pursuit, wandering over to examine the fallen beast.

"Oh, Captain Planet, I didn't know you had it in you," Lucas teased.

Owen blushed and snatched his hands away from the metal gears. He waved his hand and Lucas tripped on a root newly emerged from the ground.

"Want me to show you how to actually wrangle a spider?" Lucas asked, grabbing the root that had tripped him and swinging it like a rope.

Owen looked at his watch. "It's getting late, we should probably go back."

Ava and Lucas echoed the movement, squinting at invisible watches on their wrists.

"I think I can get us back to camp," Owen said.

"Do you now?" Lucas asked.

"I've been studying the traps during guard duty. This camp is _very_ well protect—"

Owen grunted in surprise as Lucas grabbed him around the collar and jerked him backwards. A second later the biggest metal spider Ava had seen yet slammed past them. Other creatures exploded out of the trees, stampeding back towards the camp.

"What's happening?" Ava yelled, over the crash of scraping metal.

"Let's go," Lucas shouted, loping back into the forest.

"Watch! Lucas!" Ava shouted, dragging him sideways, away from a falling tree. Two spiders had collided—shearing the tree trunk clean in half with their mandibles.

"They're going _insane_ ," Owen muttered.

"Something's wrong," Lucas said. "We have to get back."

"Be careful," Ava barked. "Don't go too fast."

It was an agonizing return trip through the forest as they ducked and weaved past snares and traps. Lucas tried to break into a sprint several times, only to be nearly impaled by the spiders rampaging through the trees. They reached a steel cable leading to the camp and Lucas flew up it. Owen and Ava followed suit.

"Lucas, thank God, do you know where Av—" Rhea stopped abruptly as she saw Ava hoist herself onto the platform. "Ava," she said, lowering her eyes. The softness of Rhea's tone unnerved Ava more than anything else.

"What is it?" Ava asked. "Is there news from Gaia?"

Rhea didn't say anything.

Ava's heart pushed against the invisible band now constricting it. Spiders continued crashing through the trees below. She could hear shouts and screams echoing through the camp. What could all this have to do with her?

"Oh good you found her," Taylah said brusquely. "Ava, follow me." Eyeing Lucas and Owen, Taylah added, "You two had better come too."

Walking back to headquarters, Ava felt like she was walking the length of a diving board and the pool below was filled with metal scorpions.

When they arrived, Taylah gestured that Ava should settle herself into one of the comfy chairs. Owen moved to stand behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder—her physical and emotional brace.

"We've had news. I was hoping it was just a rumor but it's been confirmed...by Gaia Herself." _What? How?_ Ava thought.

"Ava, your grandmother has been taken by the Makhai," Taylah said.

Ava dug her pointer finger into her palm. There was a tickling sensation in response—this wasn't a dream. She hadn't fallen asleep back in the forest, hadn't been overtaken by dark memories and secret fears while she dreamt. _Roger had taken her grandmother._ She stood slowly and looked around the room. She took in the way everyone had braced themselves against the walls and realized they were afraid. Afraid she'd unleash a tornado, a hurricane. "You're here to restrain me," she whispered.

"If necessary, yes," Taylah said. "We couldn't be sure how you...would respond. We've already evacuated most of the camp's occupants."

"The spiders?" Ava asked. "They were running to _evacuate_ the camp?"

"Yes," Taylah replied. "Your control is growing, Ava, immensely. But..."

"She's alive?" Ava forced out.

"She's alive," Taylah said. "I know them, they won't kill her. She's bait. To draw you out. To draw _us_ out."

Ava's eyes shone dangerously. "I'm happy to be drawn out."

Owen warned, "We'll get her back, but we've got to be strategic."

Ava ignored him. "Where is she?"

"DC," Taylah said.

_DC_. _Had they brought her to the Citadel? What would they do to her there?_ Ava forced the thought from her mind.

"Then we can still use the original plan," Ava said. "We'll just accelerate it. And now the Gaia Elders will definitely want to join our attack."

"Lena's capture cannot go unanswered," Owen agreed.

There was a knock on the door. Rhea entered. Her face was grim. "There's something you should all see."

A spider the size of a Labrador followed Rhea into the room. It crawled up on one of the desks and unfurled a small door in its core, exposing a television screen. Ava gasped at the image on the screen. Owen cursed under his breath. In front of them was a live image of a volcano. Dark clouds of ash were billowing from its mouth. Clearly visible in the clouds was the face of a woman, a hundred feet tall. As Ava watched in horror the woman, Gaia, opened Her mouth and screamed. And then the volcano erupted, lava exploding hundreds of feet in the air.

"Is She saying something?" Lucas whispered.

"Return her," Ava mumbled numbly. "Return her," she repeated, shaking her head. Never before had Gaia revealed her presence like this. Three jets of lava shot out of the volcano. "We have three days. Three days to find my grandmother or Gaia's going to unleash the volcanic apocalypse."

"You're sure?" Taylah asked. "We'll need every day we can get."

"Yes," Ava said. "But I'm not waiting."

"Casualties?" Taylah asked Rhea.

"None reported so far," Rhea said. "She's warning us."

Taylah turned to Ava, saying, "You work on confirming our countdown to volcanic apocalypse. The rest of us will prepare to depart for DC."

Keegitah put a hand on Taylah's shoulder. _Keegitah_ —Ava hadn't even noticed her in the commotion. At the professor's touch, Taylah shook her head. She said, her tone softening, "Sorry, I got ahead of myself. What do _you_ want to do?"

All the eyes in the room focused on Ava. Owen and Lucas put their hands to their hearts, where their tattoos were. Ava felt light-headed. Her face burned. But she knew what she needed to do.

"I'm leaving. Today. I ask no others to join me. If I show Gaia I'm working on saving my grandma She might give us more time—"

"I'm going," Owen said, before Ava could even close her mouth. She felt the familiar rush of affection for her old friend, solid to the end. And this was probably the end. They faced the twin disasters of Gaia's rage and the Ares' blood thirst.

Lucas chimed in a moment after, "And obviously I have to be the driver. Have you seen this geezer take a turn?" He gestured at Owen.

Taylah looked like she would protest, but Lucas gave her a hard-eyed smile.

"You go, I go," Taylah said.

"What about Kira?" Lucas replied.

"We go together, as a family. _Always_ ," Taylah said.

Ava had to look away from Taylah's face, the fear for her family burning in her eyes. It was too close to how she felt, and she couldn't lose control in front of the others. Whatever belief in her still remained, she needed it.

"Hell, I've got nothing to lose," Rhea said. "If it buys more time for the others..."

Ava understood. Her grandmother's kidnapping and Gaia's response had put everyone in danger; they weren't ready to face the Ares. But it was now or never. Gaia had backed them into a fiery corner.

"I'll need the necklace," Ava said, her tone commanding. "When I appear before the Council of Elders."

Taylah opened her mouth to respond but Lucas spoke first, "Yes, of course. We need the Gaia Elders on our side. And if the necklace gives you more credibility, you must take it with you."

Keegitah touched Taylah's shoulder once more and the older woman let out a breath. "The necklace is Lucas's to give," Taylah said simply.

_Not really_ , Ava thought. But she needed to be calm, for her grandmother. "Owen, can you reach out to the Elders? Try to get an emergency Council convened? We can meet the Elders at one of their outposts near DC."

Owen nodded.

Ava continued, "Tell them the _Alpha_ wants to speak to them."

Chapter 17

Ava caught a snowflake in her palm. Blowing on it as if it were a dandelion, she made a wish. The same wish she'd been making every minute of every hour for the last day. She was standing on the banks of the Chesapeake Bay. Alone. Snow collected on her shoulders and in her hair. She shivered, but not from the cold. The others were in Washington DC, scouting for their final assault. She'd thought it safer if they didn't come here, to the Gaia Elders. But was it safe for her? The gray blue water looked strangely foreboding.

It had only been twenty-four hours since she'd heard the news about her grandmother. She, Lucas, Owen, Taylah, Kira, and Rhea had set off for DC immediately. Keegitah had stayed behind to help the other teens prepare to follow the day after.

Her mother had told her to meet her here. Her mother, who had reached out to Owen and not Ava after Lena was kidnapped. She pushed away her anger, her disappointment. Her mom was the only other person on the planet who would know what she was going through right now, who would want to save Lena as much as she did. Ava needed her.

Ava shivered again. She was afraid. Afraid for her grandmother, afraid for herself, afraid for Lucas, for Owen, even for Taylah. They were all taking a terrible risk. Three things calmed her fears. The snow. This was no normal snow, not in April, not in Virginia. It had started as soon as they'd landed, at a private airstrip outside of the capital. Gaia was here. Gaia was watching. She would be help and hindrance, threat and boon, but Ava felt more connected to Mother Earth than ever before with the stories binding her, guiding her.

The other two things were small, small enough to fit in her pocket. In her left pocket something radiated a light heat, little more than a sunburn, barely hinting at its power. The alliance stone necklace. In the other pocket were the two blackberries Gaia had gifted her. Something flitted against her chest and she jumped. The Earth rumbled, as uneasy as she was. Looking down, she smiled. There was a ladybug on her chest. It climbed down her trunk to hover deliberately over her right pocket. _The berries_ —Gaia wanted her to take one. She remembered the fear that had consumed her after eating a berry, so powerful it had made her gag. But then she remembered the hope, a feeling like soaring through the air. She dug into her pocket and popped a berry into her mouth. The ladybug flew away, dodging snowflakes, its duty discharged. Ava's skin tingled like she'd dunked her whole body in mouthwash. She felt powerful. Confident. She felt like _the_ _Alpha_.

Kicking off her shoes, she waded into the bay. The water lapped at her chest, possessive, pulling her under. Her mother had said the water would guide her. _Did her mom not trust her enough to give her the actual location of the Gaia outpost_? Still unsure what her mother meant, she swam slowly, scanning her surroundings for clues. Fish nibbled at her toes, her stomach, her hair. Ava nibbled back playfully at a passing trout and the fish swerved. Silver body glinting, it shot further into the depths. Ava followed suit. Seaweed rose thick and tangled from the bay floor. Ava balked as a curtain of it waved towards her in greeting. Gaia had once taken tangible form out of seaweed. She had attacked Ava then, drawing blood, testing her against the power of Her honor guard of great white sharks. Now Ava had an even more fearsome test ahead of her—humans. How would the Gaia Elders react to her plan? Were they working on their own strategy to rescue Lena?

Lost in anxiety, Ava didn't see the snare until it was too late. She swam right into the web of seaweed like a dolphin into a fisherman's net. Thrashing against her bonds, vision clouded by a screen of dark green, she realized she was only making it worse. And then with a shuddering jerk she was drawn down, down into the depths, into the mud, and then into a crack in the Earth itself. Coughing and spluttering Ava forced herself up to find she was no longer underwater, but underground. She was lying in a pool in a subterranean cavern.

"Mom," Ava yelped as the older woman grabbed her out of the water and into a tight hug.

Ava coughed again, hacking up a mouthful of water. Her mother pulled seaweed from her hair.

"Sorry about that," Helen said. "We had to switch locations this past week and we're still working on our entrance security."

"That's okay," Ava said, glad to have the distraction from all the conversations she didn't want to have with her mom. For now, for today, it was enough to be holding her hand as they trailed through the winding tunnels of the Gaia's underground lair. They walked deeper and deeper into the warren. The air smelled fresh and sweet and Ava saw mosaics of living flowers lining the walls. There were ocean waves, snow-capped mountains, forests and animals, all shaped from vines and roots and bursting blooms.

"They're responding to you...the flowers..." Helen said.

Ava caught the awe, the fear in her mother's eyes. She squeezed her mom's hand.

"It's still me," Ava said.

Owen had passed along her mother's warning to be careful when she spoke, that people would be listening. There was so much that needed to be said, but now was not the time. Instead, she pulled her mother into another hug.

They reached a small arched room with tunnels branching off in four directions. Helen stopped abruptly and blushed deep crimson.

"What is it, Mom?" Ava asked.

"I...I need you to shuck your powers," Helen said.

"Why? You don't trust me? The Elders don't trust me?"

Helen's eyes darted around the room and Ava remembered the warning about unseen listeners.

"Please," Helen said, voice catching.

Ava had never seen her mother look so powerless. "Where...?"

Her mother gestured to the center of the room. There was a wide glass basin filled with shells, great conch shells and iridescent spirals.

"You're sure?" Ava asked.

Ava wanted her mother to object, to yell, to push her away—to protect her. But Helen just nodded submissively, keeping her eyes on the ground.

Thinking about her grandmother, Ava breathed in and channeled her focus. The powers seemed to slide off of her like rainwater and then they were gone, channeled into a miniature abalone shell. She blinked in surprise and placed the shell gently back into the heap with the others.

"You're done?" Helen asked in disbelief.

Ava nodded. She too was taken aback at how easily she'd shed her powers. Was it the effect of the blackberry? Or her deepened connection with Gaia? Helen didn't move for several moments and Ava shuffled her feet, antsy. Every moment of delay was another moment her grandmother was trapped with the Makhai and their monster of a leader.

"Mom?" Ava prompted.

"Right," Helen said, as if waking from a daze. She moved forward to the northernmost passageway, but her steps were much slower than before. Her mother was dreading whatever awaited them at the end of the tunnel. If not for the tingle in her skin from eating Gaia's berry, Ava would have been terrified. But she only felt adrenaline building in her limbs. There were thirty-six official Gaia Elders, chosen from all over the world, but they never met in groups of more than six in case of Ares attack. Ava had only ever met one Elder before, a friend of her grandmother's. The Earth had pulsed and fluttered with the woman's every step. Ava had pressed her ear to the ground to hear it, awed by the woman's power. Now she'd be meeting a whole group of Elders, Elders who could sustain, bolster, _protect_ her ragtag crew as they took their final stand against the Ares. She saw the end of the tunnel. Without thinking, her steps quickened. Her mother still trailed, falling further and further behind.

When Helen finally caught up, she pulled Ava into another hug and whispered urgently, "Not all of the Elders believe you are the Alpha. Others fear you will seize their power. Being the Alpha will not automatically endear you to the Elders waiting for us. _Be careful_. _Be_ _safe_."

Ava knew how much it had taken for her mother to disobey the Order, to undermine the other Elders. "Walk with me, Mom," Ava said, holding her hand out.

"Always, my love," her mother said, grabbing her hand. This time Helen's eyes flashed with fire.

Mother and daughter stepped into a small cavern with a cathedral ceiling. Light shimmered; the walls and ceilings were lined with hundreds of thousands of mother-of-pearl fragments, laid out in an intricate spiral. Ava blinked, disoriented. In the center of the room sat five elderly people at a glass table. _Were they playing bridge?_ She realized with a start that the table was not glass but a sheet of ice. Indeed, much of the room was covered in a light frost. Of course—these five people were all conduits for Gaia's power and it was snowing. She'd hate to see what happened when they were too close to a hurricane...or a volcanic eruption.

She scanned each face quickly, trying to discern if they would be friend or foe to her cause. There were two women with strong brows and silver hair cascading to their waists; they looked like identical twins. To their left sat a woman sporting a buzz cut and huge geode earrings—Terri-Lynn, her grandmother's old friend. She couldn't be sure but it seemed the woman winked at her. The two other Elders had their backs to Ava. They didn't turn around when Ava and her mom entered. She caught Terri-Lynn glaring at them and it gave her the courage to continue forward.

Her mother gestured that Ava should sit in the other empty chair at the table. From there, Ava had a clear view of the two Elders who had kept their backs turned as she entered—a man who had to be in his seventies even though he still had a full head of bright red hair, and another man who was completely bald. They were frowning at her mother.

The bald man said, "Welcome, Ava, to a Council of Elders. We do not normally convene on such short notice or at the urging of a non-Council member. But these are extraordinary times..."

"Yes, indeed," Ava said, nodding.

"I am Elder Roy," the bald man said. "This is Elder Sam." He gestured at the red-haired man.

"I'm Elder Maira," said one of the twins, "and this is my sister, Elder Saira." The other twin nodded.

"Hello, Ava," Terri-Lynn said with a smile. "It's nice to see you again after so many years. Although I'm sorry about the circumstances."

"Yes, we're all very sorry about Lena," Roy said, although he didn't sound sorry. He continued, "As you know, Gaia Elders meet at great peril. The Ares target our council meetings, hoping to wipe out the institutional knowledge, the cultural backbone of the Gaia. Thus we never meet for more than a few hours at a time, and rarely in the same location. Since your grandmother's kidnapping, we've instituted a new rule. We have one hour, and then we must scatter like leaves in the wind." He paused to turn an hourglass. "Please, tell us, why have you _summoned_ us here today?"

Ava smiled, hoping to disarm the man, who was clearly unhappy at being summoned. He must be one of the Elders her mother had warned her about.

"I've come to ask for your help. There is a small group of brave fighters camped outside of DC as we speak—Gaia and Ares teens joined together for a common good. They give me hope for the future. They... _we_ are planning a crippling attack on the new Ares leadership—on Roger. Our objectives are threefold: one, to remove Roger, _permanently_. Two, to rescue my grandmother, Lena Fae, and prevent Gaia from triggering a volcanic apocalypse. And three, to offer peace terms to the new Ares leadership."

Somebody snorted in anger. A hairline crack appeared in the ice table.

"We've seen signs of the Earth Mother's plan to unleash the volcanoes and cool Herself. Like us, She is angry, tired. She would _never_ accept peace," Roy said.

"She would—" Ava started.

Sam interrupted, "And you're sure your grandmother is being held here?"

Ava felt like she'd just sucked an icy gale into her lungs. It hurt to breathe. "No." _No_ , she cried internally, _no we haven't heard a thing._ "But we have reason to believe she's here."

One of the twins, Maira, nodded. "Yes, as do we. Scouts have reported unusual activity in the region. It appears the Ares Elders are gathering."

"Roger, too?" Ava asked.

"Yes, or so the intelligence suggests," Saira answered. "It makes sense that they would gather as they prepare to respond to Gaia's threat. It is your grandmother Gaia wants returned— _she_ is the leverage."

"Then there's hope, a chance," Ava said, adrenaline rising.

"No," Roy said, "even with their numbers thinned, the Ares are too powerful. Their power grows with every passing year, as ours recedes. You've felt it, how warm Gaia is?"

"Yes," Ava said, remembering the agonizing internal heat she'd tried and failed to escape back in Australia.

Roy continued, "We Elders cannot handle the heat. We strain to bear it, to lighten Gaia's burden, but it weakens us. We are powerless. We would be no match for the Ares. Especially against someone as ruthless as Roger."

"But we have youth, we have energy, we have courage," Ava replied. "And if, as you say, our powers will only diminish with every passing year, then we must seize this opportunity—slight as it is. There may never be another chance."

"This is _not_ a chance," Roy insisted.

"You're going to sit on the sidelines then?" Ava said, her voice rising to a shout. She paused, trying to calm herself. She needed to look like the Alpha. Roy smiled smugly at Ava's outburst and she had a terrible realization.

"I see. You asked me here to get the details of our plan and now you're going to wait it out. If we have any success against the Ares, you'll swoop in to finish off the job. If not...you'll let Gaia do your dirty work for you. _You'll let Her set off the volcanoes_ ...What about my grandmother? You'll let her go to her death after a lifetime of service to you? To the Order?"

"None of us would expect to be rescued if we were in Lena's shoes," Sam said.

Ignoring him, Terri-Lynn turned to Ava, asking, "Do you really think Gaia would tolerate peace?"

"Yes—" Ava said.

"No, never, I—" Roy spoke over her.

Ava stamped her foot against the ground. It shivered in response, splitting the ice table in half. Someone coughed nervously.

"I wasn't finished." Ava said. "Elder Roy is _mistaken_. Gaia does want peace. She gave me this Herself." Ava pulled down her collar to expose the alliance stone scar.

One of the twins gasped.

"The test," Terri-Lynn said, glancing at the hourglass.

"The test," Maira repeated.

"No," Helen said, "You made Ava shuck her powers. It would not be fair."

_That's why they made me shuck my powers, no doubt_ , Ava thought.

"There is no time. It must be the test," Terri-Lynn said.

Roy frowned. "Is that really wise?"

"Yes, we must know what the Earth Mother wants," Terri-Lynn said. "You, an Elder of many years, insist She does not want peace...and yet Ava has produced compelling evidence that She does." Terri-Lynn turned to Ava. "When Elders disagree on Gaia's intentions, we have seven ancient tests to uncover Her will. The seasons dictate which tests are appropriate. Since you are without your powers, I will let you choose. Will you face a test of earth or a test of ice?"

" _Ice_ ," Ava answered immediately.

"Very well," Terri-Lynn said. "As we enter the full flush of spring, a test of ice seems fitting. Will winter's icy grip remain? Or will it thaw?"

Ava closed her eyes and breathed deeply, thinking of the stories Keegitah had told her. Their lessons wrapped around her core, steadying her, calming her.

"What is that? I thought you said she shed her powers," Roy hissed.

"She _did_ ," Helen answered.

At Roy's anger Ava opened her eyes. Vines had crept out from the living walls in the tunnel. They'd twisted up her legs and her waist, an incarnation of the stories bracing her. Ava gave Roy a feline smile. "I'm ready when you are."

"Stand here," Terri-Lynn said, gesturing at a large black tile inlaid with an iridescent spiral. Ava asked the vines to unwind and then walked to the tile. Roy moved to stand across from her on an identical tile.

The twins Saira and Maira moved to stand next to Ava and Roy. They began to sing softly. Their voices rose, threading together. They were singing in the ancient tongue. Power sizzled in their words.

Terri-Lynn began to chant, "Gaia, Earth Mother, the Council of Elders has need of your guidance. Two of your children claim to speak with your voice. Elder Roy claims it is your will that the Ares and the Gaia stay frozen in eternal war. Ava claims it is your will that there be a thawing of the feud."

At a whisper from Terri-Lynn, the ground between Roy and Ava split and a fountain of water gushed out of the crack in the earth. Terri-Lynn swept her hands apart and the spout of water split in two, arcing towards Ava and her opponent. Ava was enveloped in a column of ice-cold water, as was Roy. She flinched as Terri-Lynn froze Roy's column of water into a solid block of ice.

_What was happening?_ Ava thought frantically. _What was she supposed to do?_

Terri-Lynn continued, "Each of you must keep your own column in its original state—ice or water. Ava, you will try to thaw Elder Roy's ice. Elder Roy, you will try to freeze Ava's water. If Elder Roy is successful at freezing the water surrounding Ava, we will redouble our military efforts. If, however, Ava is successful at thawing the ice surrounding Elder Roy, we will join her in removing Roger and working towards a ceasefire between the orders. We will soon see the will of the Earth Mother. _Let the test_ _begin_!"

Cold water pushed up Ava's nose and into her ears. Her blood slowed in her veins and her thoughts grew sluggish. She could barely focus on keeping the particles in her column doing their wild kinetic dance, let alone concentrate on speeding the particles in Roy's column. She felt the water grow colder. _Roy was winning_ , Ava thought. _But, no, the Earth Mother was on her side, She had to be._

She felt a point of heat digging into her hip. _The necklace_. The necklace made her think of Lucas—of bright eyes and deep dimples. Ava felt a burst of love at the thought of the Ares teen, who had sacrificed so much for her, who had fostered a deep well of empathy and kindness in the face of unimaginable violence and abuse. Without warning, the column of water fell away from her.

Shaking her head, she saw the column of ice around Roy shiver and begin to collapse. As the ice melted, Ava swore she saw a face, a figure.

"Gaia, I saw Her in the water as it thawed," Maira called triumphantly.

"As did I," murmured Saira. "She has chosen. She has chosen _the Alpha_."

"No! Trick, it's a trick!" Roy shouted. "One of you must have helped her." He turned in a circle, pointing an accusatory finger. "How can She possibly want peace after that stunt with the volcano?"

"Enough," Ava said calmly, commandingly. "She wants peace, a ceasefire, not surrender."

"We'll help you," the twins said in unison.

"I won't risk the rest of the Order's Elders, but I follow the Alpha," Terri-Lynn said, eyes bright.

"I forbid it!" Roy screamed. "The Elders forbid it!" Something swooped through the tunnel and circled overhead. More creatures joined it. Vultures.

"Under what authority?" Terri-Lynn thundered. A fleet of red foxes rushed through the room.

Ava wondered where the animals were coming from. Somehow the Gaia's labyrinth was connected to the surface.

Trying to distract the Elders from their quarrel, Ava stepped forward. "I've found one who can wield the necklace!"

Every eye turned towards her.

" _You_?" Sam asked.

"No," Ava said. "Only the children of the alliance between the orders, those with Gaia blood and Ares blood can wield the necklace. It is a symbol—the world works better when there is a balance between the orders. We need a truce."

"Lies," Roy snarled, moving towards Ava.

He still had his powers; Ava did not. She backed away from him, slowly, carefully, like a cat on a hardwood floor. She remembered her mother's warning—how far would Roy go to protect his status? She didn't want to find out, not without her powers.

Shoving her hand into her pocket, Ava grabbed the alliance necklace and thrust it out in front of her. She taunted, "You couldn't wield this little trinket...but a twelve-year-old managed it."

Roy lunged for the necklace. The Earth pulsed and vines shot out from the wall to curl around Ava and drag her away from Roy's grasp. A vulture tore at her hair. Buoyed by the energy pulsing up from the ground, Ava prepared to fight. A gale force wind knocked Roy back and away from Ava. _Who had called the wind?_ Ava thought, looking around wildly. Her mother thrust her hands forward and another burst of wind tore at the circling vultures. As Roy jammed a fist into the ground, face purple in anger, Helen turned and tossed Ava the shell with her powers— _she'd kept it all along_.

Helen shouted, "Go!"

Terri-Lynn, who was now fending off Sam, echoed her mother's warning. "We'll follow when we can!"

Ava scrambled up and dashed into the tunnel.

A shouted "Stop her!" echoed after her.

Chapter 18

_I'll get up in five seconds_ , Ava thought to herself. _I'll get up in ten seconds. Just thirty seconds more._ She was curled in the fetal position in a bubble suspended in the Potomac River. The light was dim and the sound muffled. It was the closest she'd been to the womb since...the womb. And after everything that had happened in the last week, she didn't want to move. Yesterday's confrontation with the Gaia Elders still left her clammy with fear and sadness. The Gaia would not be stepping in to help in today's battle. The Misfits were on their own. Her mother, Terri-Lynn, and the twins had fought off Roy and Sam, and broken ranks with the Order to stand with them. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

She'd spent the last half hour trying to connect with Lucas, to see what he saw, feel what he felt. But she had nothing but the stirrings of a migraine for her effort. By now Lucas would be hundreds of feet beneath the ground, following a treacherous maze of silver clues towards the Ares Citadel. Altogether, there were little more than thirty people in their small army. And they had a lot to do. Most importantly, they had to distract every Ares member within a hundred miles from the man worming his way through the dark, damp, claustrophobic earth below. Once inside the Citadel, Lucas would be the only person with access to his powers, and he would corner Roger and the other Makhai until the other Star Crossed arrived.

Their army had partnered up and dispersed, some into the dirt, some into the trees, and the bulk of them into the river. Ava had shown the others how to make air bubbles like her own and there were now seven or eight of them suspended in the Potomac like giant fish eggs. The ache in her head deepened. They hadn't had time to work out the kinks in their plan; everyone was participating at immense personal risk.

A drop of water landed on Ava's nose and her muscles tensed in anticipation. A split second later, Owen bounded into her bubble, bringing a jet of river water with him. Squawking as the water hit her, Ava forced herself out of the fetal position and sat up.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Not yet," Owen answered, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Are they...are _we_ ready?"

Owen grimaced, running a hand through his hair. "I would've liked a few more days to prepare..."

Ava nodded. "And the Ares Elders? They're here?"

"It appears so. In a way, Gaia did us a favor. After Her little trick at the volcano the Ares leaders are jumpy. I mean, think about how anxious we are, and we aren't even the target of Her threat. According to Lucas, the Citadel is the Ares' version of the White House Situation Room. Word is they've gathered there to protect themselves from Gaia's onslaught and prepare for a counter-attack against the Earth Mother."

Ava leaned back into the bubble, curling up onto her side once more. Only Owen could see her look this vulnerable, this tired.

"Any word from Lucas?" Owen asked.

"Nothing," Ava said, shaking her head. Lucas had promised to try and open his mind as much as possible to her, to broadcast his progress so they could coordinate the attack. But something was jamming their connection. Ava's hand went to her pocket; she traced the outline of the last berry and sighed.

"Shall we begin?" Owen asked, a half-smile on his face.

"Are you asking me to dance? Or to start a war?"

In reply Owen sank into a curtsy that would make Jane Austen proud.

Ava smiled. Owen had done it again—read her mood and done his best to bolster her.

"You would've been such a good Alpha," she blurted.

"Almost as good as you," Owen replied softly, squeezing her hand.

His belief was a tangible thing. Gravity's grip seemed to soften—her chin tilted up, her shoulders drew back. She rubbed her hands together. "Let's let Brood X have a little fun. Has Terri-Lynn gotten a read on the weather?"

"I think so; she's been tinkering all day to produce what we need. I've never seen anyone get so jazzed about precipitation."

"Bugs first, then blizzard?" Ava asked.

"Bugs first, then blizzard," Owen agreed.

"I'll meet you at the surface," Ava said, diving through the wall of her bubble into the surrounding river. She swam quickly to the next bubble and the next, giving the occupants a quick smile and thumbs up. There were easier ways to signal the commencement of the plan but Ava wanted to show her face.

They'd hollowed out parts of the bank along the river, creating makeshift cover for their army. She surfaced at one of the hollowed-out spaces, about a mile down from the Lincoln Memorial. Owen was waiting for her there. He didn't acknowledge her arrival; he was deep in concentration summoning Brood X, the largest population of cicadas on the East Coast. It was asking a lot of Brood X to surface before their seventeen-year cycle. And they hadn't had as much time to confer with the insects as Ava would've liked. Would they come?

_There in the sky—was that a flash of black_? She couldn't be sure. But then she heard it, the faint purr of the cicadas' song. The hair rose on her arms. She slid back under the river's surface, letting the memories overwhelm her. Memories of muggy summer nights wrestling in the grass with Sheba. Memories of her grandmother's sharp laugh cutting through the forest as Ava raced the fireflies. The purr rose until it blocked out every other sound as billions of cicadas took to the air. Ava whispered a fervent thank you to the creatures for joining in a battle that was not of their own making. The vibration of the cicadas swelled in response and Ava felt tears in her eyes. _The Ares had no idea what was coming for them_. It was early evening, but the mass of insects had blocked out the fading sun, blackening the sky. Every once and a while she caught the slam of a car door or a muffled shout and she pictured the tourists and citizens scurrying for shelter. She and Owen traded wide smiles.

After about thirty minutes, Owen said, "Blizzard time?"

Ava nodded. She swept her hands through the water again and again. With each pass, she churned the water into hunks of ice. Then she thrust the wave of ice down the river to where Terri-Lynn and her mother lay in wait. That was the signal for them to call up the blizzard. The snow and the cicadas were harmless to the Ares but they would clear the city of innocent civilians before the coming battle. Rhea had half-heartedly argued against these preliminary steps, saying that Gaia had already blown their cover with Her appearance in the volcano and that no humans were _truly_ innocent. But she'd been quickly outvoted. Besides, they had other, more powerful attacks in store for the Ares. Terri-Lynn and her mother were feeding their power into the Potomac, combining their energy for the tactical surprise Ava was hoping to pull off later in the evening.

Owen cursed under his breath.

"What?" Ava asked sharply.

Owen held up a hailstone the size of a chicken egg.

"Oh, Terri-Lynn, you do not disappoint," Ava said.

They ducked underwater as apple-sized chunks of ice hurled through the air. But Ava felt drawn to the action. Unable to resist, she surfaced again. An icy wind tore through her hair. The night had gone from black to white. She dove to her left, only barely avoiding another hunk of ice. Ice Queen, that's what Lucas had called her. Regret tore at her limbs like the icy wind. She wished she hadn't been so cool to him before. Lucas had only done exactly what she would've done in his shoes. And he'd saved so many teens with the alliance stone.

" _Ava_ ," Owen called.

She registered the panicked warning in his tone and shot up and out of the water, embraced by the blizzard that was now hurtling through the downtown. Somersaulting onto the bank, she turned to look for Owen. Her world was shrouded in white. She exhaled, melting the driving snow and tried to catch sight of Owen in the river. Nothing. Her stomach clenched—he would never willingly leave her. There was a disturbance in the water. _Was that a fin?_ Ava squinted. But there was no need. A moment later Owen erupted out of the water, tangled in the coils of some kind of beast— _a metallic boa constrictor_. Face crimson and eyes bulging, Owen managed to force out, "Run!" before being dragged under the surface.

And Ava did run, right to the edge of the bank. She threw herself into the water, trying to get as close to the spot where Owen had disappeared as possible. She regretted her haste as soon as she was submerged. The water was seething with violence. Metal piranhas surged through the water, converging on Ava. One sank its teeth deep into her ankle. Sucking in a lungful of river water, she kicked viciously at the creature, jettisoning it out of the river. Where were the Ares teens? She needed their help confronting the wall of gnashing teeth before her.

Another piranha lunged at her face, but it slammed into a wall of ice. Ava spun in the water, trying to keep her eyes on all of her attackers at once. It was critical that she not use too much of her energy now. _Not with what was coming later_.

Ava screamed in surprise, gulping down more water as a metal fish rammed a spiked tail into her side. Blood ran thick in the water, making it hard to see her enemy. There was a wrenching sound, like a ship's hull scraping against a dock and, without waiting to see what had caused the noise, Ava thrust herself downwards, deeper into the river. Something bounced off her shoulder and Ava hacked at it with a hand encased in ice. But it was dead—just a misshapen hunk of metal. She looked up quickly and ducked as another piece of metal sank through the water towards her. A lone figure was suspended above her; pulverized metal piranhas fell away from the dark shape like sparks from a flame. _Rhea_. She saw Ava and gestured for her to meet at the surface.

Ava kicked herself up quickly, emerging back into a world of white and cold. "Owen?" Ava asked Rhea without preamble.

Rhea gestured north. "Go," she replied. "I'll hold them off as long as I can."

Ava nodded and ducked beneath the surface once more. No longer harried by metal teeth in every direction, Ava thrust a wall of water ahead of her, probing for disturbances. There was a whispered, " _Here._ "

It was Gaia's voice, calling from about three hundred feet upriver.

Shooting through the water, arms out like Superwoman, Ava assessed the damage. She was still bleeding freely and moving more sluggishly than she would've hoped. If she spent too much energy rescuing Owen, she might not have enough to complete her part of the distraction. She pushed the thought out of her mind and swam on.

" _Here_ ," came the whisper again, much softer this time.

Ava's migraine pounded at the note of desperation in the voice. It pounded harder as Ava came upon the metal boa, Owen's still form fully entangled in its thick metal coils. Rage slithered through Ava, sharpening her senses. She spun quickly, creating a giant air bubble that she thrust at the unmoving tangle of man and snake, hoping it would revive her limp friend. The boa shuddered as the bubble enveloped it, bucking and writhing as if to shake it off. Metal coils scraped against the riverbed, sending up a cloud of debris. Ava cursed; visibility was low and she needed to do maximum damage to the snake without hurting her friend.

Ava made a split-second decision. She spun once more in the water, faster and faster until she'd created a whirlpool. The snake roared in displeasure as it was pulled into the rushing water. The boa released Owen to escape the whirlpool and Ava seized her opening. Rocketing forward through the water, she gripped the snake's tail, cutting her hands on its metal scales, and jammed it into the riverbed. The Earth rumbled and swallowed the creature, making a sound like a churning garbage disposal. Snatching Owen's still form, she dragged him to the surface, fear building with every inch she ascended.

"Owen, Owen," she whispered, scrambling to find a pulse. He looked so pale. Every flake of snow falling on his cold body felt like fingernails across her skin. There was a band of deep purple across his neck where the snake had strangled him. Ava held her friend in the shallows, exhaling warmth over his head and heart.

He let out a shuddering breath and Ava burst into tears.

"Owen!" she exclaimed, channeling more warmth into his limbs.

A fish came to nibble at his hair, then another. Ava realized they were feeding him their energy. Someone nudged her from behind; it was Rhea with another Ares teen.

Owen grabbed Ava's wrist. "Go," he said, his voice hoarse.

She shook her head.

He locked eyes with her, pushing his hand weakly to the alliance tattoo on his chest. "Go," he repeated.

She kissed his forehead and dragged herself over to the bank. " _Go"—the mantra of her life._ Ever onwards. Even when she was exhausted, terrified, on the brink of collapse. Even when it meant leaving her half-dead friend behind. Because if she didn't, there would be more dead friends, more dead loved ones. Pulling herself onto land, she forced herself to start slogging through the snow, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.

It was time for the next phase of the plan. She needed to ensure that any Ares or Makhai nearby retreated to the safety of the Citadel. She needed to make her presence as the Alpha known in a big way.

The blizzard had slackened; Ava could finally see more than a few feet in front of her. She reoriented herself towards the Lincoln Memorial and loped onwards, wincing with every step. Scrambling up the Memorial steps, she was besieged by a memory. It knocked the wind from her lungs and she sank to the marble. She had dressed as Abraham Lincoln at a college party, back in Melbourne. Lucas, Jules, and Greg had careened around the dance floor like free particles and Ava had felt something strange in her chest that night—joy, freedom. She banged her head against the step in front of her, trying to thrust the memory from her head. Instead she landed against soft snow. _Ice Queen_ , _I am the Ice Queen._

She'd planned on making it further up the steps, all the way into the alcove with the statue of Lincoln, but the thought of standing back up seemed impossible. She was running out of time. She whispered to the marble below her, "I'm sorry about this, President Lincoln. Hopefully, you of all people can appreciate the importance of destroying something to rebuild it."

With that, she channeled every ounce of strength she had left and slammed her palm into the step. Cracks spread out from the impact. Ava rolled away from one just in time to keep from being swallowed up. Peering into the gap she'd created, she let the blood from her injuries drip down, down into the earth. It mingled with the sweat on her brow, the tears on her cheeks. She sent with it her rage. Her rage at the memory of Owen's body lying immobile in the snake's embrace. Her terrible fear for her grandmother—what would they do to her? What had they already done? Her grief at Sheba's soul-crushing guilt. Her terror that the Mary Todd to her Abraham Lincoln was now clawing through dirt and dark on his way to near-certain death. It was intoxicating, the rage. She let it build inside of her, and waited for Gaia to magnify it back. Tenfold. A hundredfold. Pushing herself back up to a standing position, she surveyed the scene around her, waiting for the first gust of wind, splatter of rain, or bolt of lightning. But nothing came.

Had Gaia deserted her in her moment of need? Had Keegitah's guidance given her _too_ much control over her wild connection with the Earth Mother?

Laughter rang out through the snow. _Was it Gaia?_ But no, Gaia had never sounded like that—vengeful, unhinged. She craned her neck, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She felt vulnerable, alone on the steps, separated from the rest of her little army. This was supposed to be her moment, her move. With a start she realized the laughter was coming from in front of her, from the Memorial housing Lincoln's statue.

Unable to stop herself, she crept up the steps towards the noise. There was a deafening rumbling, but it wasn't Gaia this time. Ava gasped. Lincoln was pushing himself up from the confines of his marble chair. A cloud of dust engulfed his feet as chunks of rock crashed to the ground. The laughter was louder now. A metal scorpion skittered up Lincoln's leg and _burrowed_ into his chest. The Makhai had somehow possessed Lincoln's statue.

"Oh my God," Ava whispered, before spinning on her heel and scrambling back down the steps. Frantically she tried to connect with Mother Earth, but the emotional scattershot approach no longer seemed to be working. She tripped and tumbled down the last few stairs, biting her tongue. Wiping the blood from her mouth she remembered— _the berry_. _Was it the right moment?_ If she didn't take it now she might not have many more moments. Hurriedly she popped the fruit in her mouth as she sprinted back towards the river. She felt the familiar tingle in her skin and braced herself for the coming emotional onslaught. But she didn't feel anything. She jerked to a stop; she was leading the Lincoln creature right back to her compatriots. She turned and started sprinting the other way down the Potomac, away from her friends.

She dropped to the ground with an agonizing cry. Blood boiled in her veins, seeming to eat away at her flesh. A young orangutan swung towards her, pointing forlornly at the clear cut forest behind her—family and home swept away by palm oil development. An elephant trumpeted in grief over the body of a fallen comrade, its tusks hacked off for their trinket value. A farmer in Brazil stared at dusty, drought-stricken fields. A young girl stood with her hand raised, blocking the path of a pipeline and protecting the water. A river raged, chock full of fighting salmon. Ava shook her head; the berry had temporarily fused her to Gaia. The connection was more potent than ever before. A rumble behind her drew her back to the present. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Lincoln take a few unsteady steps down the stairs of the monument. He'd knocked through the columns at the entrance of the Memorial. Something shiny on her chest caught Ava's eye. The snow was thin, but what remained had draped itself in sparkling garlands across her shoulders and hair. _Ice Queen, I am the Ice Queen_.

She pushed herself back to her feet and ran, feeling Gaia's feedback with every pounding step. A rush of hot air pushed against her back and she turned to see the Lincoln creature's ungainly steps had morphed into leaps as he chased her.

"You have got to be kidding." Shaking her head, Ava focused her energy on the Potomac. It was easy to commune with Gaia this time. Gaia knew what she wanted. Laughter rang out again. _You won't be laughing much longer_ , she thought to herself. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to catch any movement in the Potomac— _was it working?_

It was her turn to laugh, high and bright. Bubbling up from the river water was a glasslike figure. Ava caught the familiar tumble of hair, the feline eyes. It was the twin of the Amazon of lava her grandmother had summoned back in Hawai'i. Except this one was made of ice. _I am the Ice Queen_. She was at least ten feet taller than Lincoln, who seemed momentarily stunned by the ice Amazon's entrance.

The Amazon leaned down to offer a couch-sized hand to Ava. She stepped onto the palm, skidding across the surface. Her stomach flipped as she was propelled into the air. When she was level with the Amazon's neck, she took a running leap and landed on the creature's right shoulder. She wanted to leave the Amazon's hands free for battle. Quickly she iced over her feet, fusing herself to the Amazon so she wouldn't fall. _So_ _how did this work?_ _Was this like a video game? Would the Amazon mimic Ava's gestures? Or was it more of a mind-meld thing?_ Before Ava could decide, the ice woman planted herself ankle deep in the water and opened her mouth to roar a challenge at Lincoln.

_Ok, so it's more of an "I have no control over the giant, vengeful ice lady I'm now attached to" kind of situation_ , Ava thought as the Amazon took a shuddering step forward.

Lincoln bent his shoulder and charged them like a bull. Ava screamed and drew the water up into a wall of ice before them. Lincoln opened his mouth and expelled a breath of fire. Fire met ice and Ava's wall collapsed back into the river. Lincoln continued his charge.

The Amazon roared again and stomped her foot. Ice crackled, coating the river and racing across the grassy bank and over pavement. Lincoln tried to stop his forward progress but he was too late. Sliding across the treacherous surface, he slammed to the ground with a crunch. Ava crowed in triumph. Sensing blood, the Amazon closed in on her prey. She arced a foot into Lincoln's face, knocking his head back. But her kick was met with a bloom of fire. Water gushed like blood from the area of impact and the Amazon spun away from the flame. Unsteady now that half her left foot had disappeared, she lurched dangerously to the side. Ava urged her to retreat back to the river where they could fashion a new foot. But it was like trying to drag a bus. Ava's heart sputtered in fear as Lincoln pushed himself to his feet. She saw the cracks in his back a split second before the Amazon. The ice creature opened her mouth, expelling a stream of water at Lincoln. The water burrowed its way into the cracks on his back, crackling as it froze over the statue. Ava could hear the marble wrenching apart under the new pressure, the water expanding as it froze. Lincoln shrieked in dismay, pawing at his back. Marble crumbled and fell away, exposing the statue's skeleton of steel.

Ava blanched. A cascade of metal centipedes squirmed out of the hole in Lincoln's back and scurried towards them while Lincoln shambled away. The ice Amazon gave chase. When the centipedes grew closer they released a cloud of dense smoke. Choking and blinded, Ava called the wind to clear the haze. But the smoke was cloying, overwhelming. Ava screamed in pain as something sharp jabbed into her shoulder. Spinning, Ava saw a centipede leaping towards her face. Icing over her forehead, she head-butted the creature. She connected with a satisfying crunch and the centipede fell to the ground. But other metal creatures were crawling up the ice Amazon, their sharp limbs giving them purchase. Meanwhile the Amazon had slowed, distracted by Ava's struggle, and Lincoln was getting away. Grunting in frustration, Ava directed a series of lightning bolts at the wave of metal insects. Ava cheered under her breath as the creatures dropped, and then abruptly quieted. Ahead, the marble president had taken a small jump, like a diver at the end of a diving board, and arced himself up and into the ground, arms outstretched in front of him to break his path.

Ava cursed under her breath. _We had him_. The ice Amazon was snorting and pawing at the ground, hoping her prey would re-emerge. Water was seeping from cracks along her torso and arms—she was melting. Ava felt warm herself. Glancing up, she noticed the snow had disappeared completely. _That hadn't been part of the plan—why had Terri-Lynn and her mother stopped the blizzard?_

"To the river," Ava whispered. The Amazon nodded, lumbering back to the Potomac. Once there, Ava refashioned part of the Amazon's foot and drew up water to patch her cracks. The ice woman shivered, almost dislodging Ava from her perch. She was agitated, pointing at something in the river. _A shoe_.

"Run!" Ava shouted, pointing up the river, back where she'd left Owen and her friends. The Amazon had jerked forward into a flat-out sprint before Ava had even closed her mouth. With every step, a wave of water swelled over the banks, icing over whatever was in its path. More detritus washed downriver—another shoe, a crumpled metal piranha. A moment later, the screaming began.

"Faster," Ava whispered, her tone pleading. Somehow the Amazon managed to accelerate. Ava would be bone tired after this, but it didn't matter, she had to find the others.

From her vantage point high on the shoulder of the Amazon, Ava caught sight of the battle several hundred feet upriver. The Ares teens had laced the river with iron particles so they could partner with their Gaia counterparts to channel the power of the water. Now the world in front of her looked like a Salvador Dali painting. The river was bending and arcing in alien ways, like the chaotic loops of a rollercoaster. Hurtling along this rollercoaster of water was an army of metal monsters. A piranha smashed into the bank with a loud crash. A boa was ejected, writhing, from the water, only to slither away into the fallen snow. Remembering the purple band across Owen's throat, Ava directed the Amazon to give chase, hoping to stomp the beast into dust. But just as they were nearing, a series of roots burst out of the ground, arcing over the metal snake and binding it tight. A black bear loped over, advancing on the trapped boa with a growl.

But there were so many more metal monsters—the Ares seemed to have an infinite supply of the creatures. Ava screamed and scraped her arms against the sky. Rain fell like a hail of bullets on the steel army. Torqueing her body, Ava expelled a huge breathe and the creatures froze in their tracks. The screaming stopped. But Ava knew the battle had just begun.

"Ava!" came a shout. The Amazon wheeled towards the sound. Taylah gestured wildly from the ground. When the Amazon offered her palm to the older woman, she scrambled up and the ice woman lifted her to Ava's level.

"Taylah," Ava said, pulling the woman into a hug. She sensed the older woman's anxiety and her own spiked in response. "How is...everyone?"

"Some serious injuries, but I think they'll live." Taylah said. "But I can't find Kira."

"What?" Ava said sharply. "I thought she was going to stay back with Sheba."

"There's something else—the necklace is gone. Someone took it from me."

_Kira and the necklace were missing?_ Ava thought, frowning. "I'll look for Kira—I've got a great vantage point from up here," Ava said with forced calm.

Taylah nodded. "Thank you."

"We must press the attack," Ava said. "Lucas will be close now and we need to draw their attention away from his approach."

"I'll start tunneling into the earth, towards our best guess of the location of the Citadel—that should keep them focused on us," Taylah said, but she still sounded distracted. For the rest of the plan to work it was imperative for Taylah to be focused, directing the battle with her usual precision.

Ava feigned a shiver.

"What is it?" Taylah said quickly.

"I think Lucas is trying to connect..."

Taylah's worry line receded. Ava gritted her teeth. It was a lie. She hadn't heard or seen anything from Lucas in hours. But the lie had worked.

"I should concentrate," Ava said.

"Of course," Taylah said. "We'll begin the excavation."

"And I'll find Kira," Ava added. That part at least was true. She _would_ find Kira, and woe to whatever man or beast got in her way. Taylah nodded appreciatively and quickly scaled down the Amazon's trunk.

Ava opened her mouth to give a command, but the Amazon was one step ahead of her. She spun in a slow circle, allowing Ava to scan the area.

"There, I think that's Sheba!" Ava shouted and the ice woman began jogging towards the bear.

Heat. Agony. Heart exploding.

"Make it stop," Ava shrieked, clawing at her chest. But there was nothing there. It was Lucas; she'd just bonded with Lucas. _Someone had activated the sangstone in his heart_ , she thought to herself—and suddenly she was falling. The wind whistled past her as she dropped, bouncing off the Amazon's limbs, but she just closed her eyes, letting the darkness overtake her.

She opened her eyes to find herself suspended several feet off the ground, a small cyclone keeping her aloft. A furry paw grabbed her and pulled her into a hug.

"Sheba," Ava whispered into the bear's fur. "Where's Kira?" _Where's Lucas?_ She tried to connect with him again. Her knees gave out and she collapsed further into the bear, who caught her weight.

"What do I do now?" she whispered. _Where was the ice Amazon?_ Ava thought, looking around frantically. The ice creature had retreated into the river, and was reclining there as if taking a bath. She sank lower into the Potomac and Ava realized she was melting. "No!" Ava howled. "Not when I need you most."

Tentacles of water reached out of the river, fastening onto Ava's back. Her lips trembled, turning blue. Frost grew thick across her hair and shoulders. She felt impossibly cold. And strong. _What was happening?_ Power pulsed through the water tentacles, flooding Ava's body. The ice Amazon was channeling her power into Ava. _I am the Ice Queen_ _now_.

Sheba threw back her head and roared, shaking Ava's shoulders and snapping her out of her temporary paralysis.

The bear roared again, even more belligerent this time and Ava whispered, "I get it, I get it." But Sheba wasn't focused on her. There was a deep rumble coming from the earth.

_Lincoln was coming back to play_.

The presidential statue exploded from the ground a hundred feet in front of Ava with a shower of dirt and snow. But he wasn't alone. Locked in each marble hand was a limp figure. He dragged them up the stairs of the Lincoln Memorial, heading back towards his former perch. Stopping halfway up the stairs, he turned to face Ava and her ragtag army. He folded himself into a crouch, marble fingers clamped around the necks of the two figures.

"No," Ava whispered, "please, no."

Taylah's agonized cry confirmed Ava's fear; the two figures were Lucas and...her grandmother. Sheba started towards the monument, body trembling with rage. Ava grabbed at her, pulling the bear back. They crept closer, together, terrified that any movement might set the Lincoln creature off.

"Alphaaaaa," called a voice, the same one whose laughter had rung out earlier that evening. She recognized it now—Roger, the bespectacled man from the linea. A man who killed his own people without mercy.

"Alpha. Won't you join us?" Roger said.

_Where was he?_ Ava thought, straining to see. Something seeped down the steps of the Memorial—liquid metal. Roger was rolling out his own version of the red carpet. A moment later Roger strode out of the Memorial's alcove to the top of the steps. He was flanked by two large men. No, not men. They had human faces, but their movements were mechanical, robotic. She thought back to the memory her grandmother had shown her, back to Todd and his arm made of metal. It looked like all of these men's limbs were made of metal. Ava shivered. _What was Roger doing? Fusing man and machine_.

Sheba and Ava were crouched low to the ground behind a newly created ridge of earth. _They're not dead, they're not dead_ , Ava repeated to herself, taking deep breaths. Her mind raced, coming up with half-baked plans.

"Perhaps you need a bit more incentive," Roger said.

Ava jerked up at this taunt. It was Sheba's turn to pull her back down. Then came a familiar scream, the one that had pushed Ava to the brink of insanity back in Australia. It was Lucas. Roger was playing with the sangstone in his heart. There was nothing Sheba could do to stop Ava this time. She sprinted out from behind her cover, the Earth thrumming beneath her. From above, thunder trumpeted her arrival. A phalanx of black bears loped into formation behind her, Sheba at their fore. Taylah had signaled for the rest of Ava's army to stay back, so as not to risk the lives of Lucas or Lena, but the bears had not listened. This was their battle as much as hers.

Lucas stopped screaming, slumping against his marble captor's grasp. The thrumming in the earth increased; Ava's body vibrated with its power.

"I am here," Ava said, voice like ice. _I am the Ice Queen._

Roger smirked and then whispered something under his breath. Lucas's scream rang out. Blood stained his lips and the chest of his shirt—he must've bitten his tongue. His eyes bulged.

Trees whipped and cracked ominously. The bears roared in anger. A miniature blizzard rose around Ava. Tentacles of ice and water reached out of the river, stretching towards the leader of the Ares. Ava couldn't stop herself; she crept forward.

"Stop!" Roger yelled. Lincoln lifted both his prisoners high in the sky, a warning to the gathered crowd. There was utter stillness for a moment. And then the Earth shook in protest.

Why was Roger doing this? Why risk his life like this? Why be so public when he could've kept Lucas and Lena down in the Citadel _?_ Ava could barely constrain Gaia's wrath at his butchery. Realization came like ice down her spine— _Roger wasn't trying to stop Gaia's rage, he was trying to trigger it._

The best way for a dictator to maintain control was to instill fear in his people. When Gaia had appeared in the ash of the volcano to issue Her warning, She had given Roger the best propaganda he could wish for. He wanted to enrage Her further, to start an all out war that would justify his violent regime. And he was crazy enough to think he could win. What would it look like to win against Gaia? There was nobody left to tell him that "winning" such a war was impossible. That the Ares needed clean air and clean water as much as anyone. Another realization came like ice down Ava's spine. The best way to trigger Gaia's rage would be to trigger the rage of Her living, breathing conduit—the Alpha. Ava's heart seized. If she backed away now to prevent Gaia's rage, she'd have to leave Lucas and her grandmother at the mercy of this monster. But if she stayed and fought, she played right into Roger's hands, potentially setting off Gaia's apocalypse.

A gust of wind stirred Ava's curls. She ignored it, trying to weigh her options. The breeze came again, lifting the hair sticking to her forehead. _Where was it coming from?_ Ava's eyes widened in surprise and then horror as she saw its source. Crouched on the roof of the Lincoln Memorial was Kira. Except it didn't look like Kira. She was suspended within a tornado of metal—a mosaic of gold and bronze, silver and steel. Above her head she swung the alliance stone like a miniature lasso. Everyone behind Ava froze; she heard a collective intake of breath and a whimper.

Ava tried frantically to catch Kira's eye, to beg her to stand down. But Kira ignored her, taking a running leap off the roof. Sheba roared and Ava sprinted forward, both trying to distract Roger and his lackeys from the young attacker, but they were too late. Roger spun, raising an arm, and a metal eagle hurtled through the sky after Kira.

"What's this? A child wields an alliance stone?" Roger laughed, signaling for the two men flanking him to back off.

Kira, held aloft by her tornado, faced the eagle midair. She darted and spun away from the eagle's talons. Ava held her breath; the bird was twice as big as Lucas's sister. Kira grunted and her tornado pulsed away from her and collided with the eagle. There was a gnashing like a blender and then metal shrapnel rained down from the sky.

Roger wasn't laughing anymore. He pulled a metal whip from his belt and lashed it towards the flying girl. Encircling Kira's ankle, he yanked and sent her crashing to the ground, her tornado still circling.

"No, you'll make it worse," Ava hissed as Taylah tried to rush the steps. The ground closed around the resistance leader's feet, locking her in place. In the Memorial, Roger advanced towards Kira. Her tornado pulsed again, and he leapt backwards, crying in pain as shrapnel lodged in his palms. The two lackeys rushed forward.

"Back, get back!" Roger spat at the two men. He lashed his whip towards himself. The whip tip glowed red and melted, wrapping Roger's core and limbs in liquid metal armor. This time he charged at the tornado. But the shrapnel converged on him, like a swarm of angry bees. _Wait a second—they were bees, bees wrought of metal_.

While Roger was distracted by the angry horde, Kira darted away, running straight for Lincoln. She vaulted up the front of the statue like a squirrel and jammed her hand, still clutching the alliance stone, into the creature's head. Lincoln screamed, a sound like giant gears catching, and tore at his neck. He shook his head, trying to dislodge his assailant, but the movement became slower and slower until the statue crumpled to the ground, bringing Kira with it. She hit the ground with a crack and didn't get up. Freed from their captor, Lena and Lucas slumped to the ground in a pile of marble rubble.

_Now? Should I go now?_ Sheba held her back once more. Roger's face, initially blocked by the cloud of metal shrapnel, was visible once more. Seeming to have forgotten about Ava, he only had eyes for the young girl sprawled in front of him. Ava couldn't wait any longer. She crept forward towards her loved ones, Sheba shadowing her.

Gripping his whip, Roger lashed it once, binding Kira in thick metal bands. Then he pulled a knife from his waistband and advanced on the young girl.

"Are you watching, Gaia?" he asked. And then he lunged. Ava moaned and closed her eyes, breaking into a sprint. Sheba let out a mournful cry. Ava opened her eyes to find blood mingled with rubble and her heart seized a second time. Roger was advancing on another still form—Lucas or her grandma, she couldn't tell.

Ava scrambled up the last several steps, eyes on Roger's back. But her gaze flickered towards the red. There was Kira, unharmed and still bound. _Whose blood was that?_ She saw a lock of silver hair poking out of the rubble and her knees trembled—it was her grandmother's blood.

Ava was still ten feet from Roger and his lackeys but she flung herself towards them, bounding like a cougar. One of the metal men threw himself at Ava. She swerved to avoid him but felt hot metal against her skin and then suddenly, she was slammed against the ground. Like a Gumby doll, the lackey had expanded his metal arms to catch Ava midflight. Now his arms were rapidly evolving into tentacles, wrapping around Ava's limbs. She snarled and ice crackled across the bonds, stealing their heat. She grabbed the now cool metal bonds and launched her body backwards, flipping the metal man over and down into the ground. Thick ice covered his body. The other lackey lunged at her, only to collide with the hulking black form of Sheba. The bear growled, tossing the man down the steps. The other bears converged on him. Ava turned to see Roger hurrying back into the alcove.

Exhaling frost, she closed her eyes, and summoned her power. Her connection to Gaia had never been stronger. She called the river water to her. Opening her eyes, she found wings of ice jutting out of her back. She sprinted, launching herself in the air, and letting the wings carry her towards her fleeing target. She grabbed at Roger's back and lifted him, flying back towards the river. Smoke rose from Ava's wings as Roger encased them in hot metal. They crashed into the banks of the Potomac. Ava slammed one hand into Roger's cheekbone and raked the other one against the sky. Water poured down on them. Roger laughed and lashed at her with his whip. The metal tongue stabbed at her calf. Water surged along the weapon, icing over the whip. Roger laughed again.

"Have it your way Alpha witch," he spat, drawing his knife once more. The blade was still coated in blood. Blood from her grandmother.

Roger sank his blade into her side, but Ava didn't care, she barely even noticed. She pulled him into what might have looked like a friendly embrace, if not for the fact that every muscle was locked to hold onto him. What was left of her ice wings closed around them, blocking out the rest of the world.

"Wha—"

Roger didn't finish. His jaw had seized up. Lips turning blue, he forced out, "You're...You're going to kill us both."

He pushed his knife feebly towards her again. He kicked and struggled but she held him tightly, almost tenderly, in her embrace. _I am the Ice Queen_. Ice crackled, binding them in thicker and thicker layers. Roger stopped struggling, but she held on. Her heart was beating too slowly, blood settling in her veins from the cold. But she couldn't let go. She saw the red standing stark against white marble. She saw the lock of silver hair. Still connected to Gaia, she felt the exhaustion of the Earth Mother. The despair. The pain. And she couldn't let go.

Something tickled at her neck. She ignored it. The tickle came again. She tried to turn her head to see the source of the sensation but she was locked in an embrace of ice. There was a whisper in her ear. She knew that voice. The tickle on her back had turned into warmth. The warmth of a turtle basking in the sun. The warmth of hot sand after an ocean dip. The warmth of her grandmother's arms. She closed her eyes and let go.

Chapter 19

Eyelids fluttering against the afternoon sunlight, Ava rose unwillingly from a deep slumber. Taking in her surroundings, the houseplants, the colorful prints and rugs and multitude of books, she groaned. "Not again."

She was back in Taylah's hideout in Australia. _No, that house had been destroyed in a fire_.

She looked away from the crimson rug, remembering her grandmother's crumpled form lying in a pool of red. She was trying to sink back into sleep when she noticed Kira huddled on a couch. Her eyes were red and bloodshot. Hesitantly, the girl crept towards Ava's bed.

"She saved me...your grandmother saved me," Kira blurted out. "She leapt in front of Roger's knife."

Ignoring Kira's words for the moment, Ava asked, "Kira...where are we?"

"It's our Maryland hideout."

"It looks just like your Melbourne hideout."

"Yup. Mom likes...continuity."

"I'll bet she does," Ava said. "Speaking of, where is your mom? And everybody else?"

Kira looked away. "Oh, I think she was meeting with your mom. And Lucas and Owen are helping with the wounded. Terri-Lynn got a bad bite from one of the metal piranhas and a few of the teens are still clinging to life."

"Were there any...any other...?"

"No, just your grandma." Kira balled her fists. "I'm so sorry, Ava."

"Thank you."

"It was my fault."

At this, Ava sat up. "It wasn't, Kira, not for a moment. Things could've been much worse if you hadn't been so brave."

"No, it was my fault. Even Lucas thinks so, I can tell. He's been avoiding me the past few days. He just sits at your bedside..." she trailed off, blushing.

Ava blushed herself. "You took the necklace?"

Kira nodded. "I'd had a bad feeling all day. I can feel Her too you know—Gaia. And something was wrong. I was worried about Lucas and I knew nobody would let me anywhere near the battle. So I took the necklace and I tried to follow Lucas as best I could."

"You _followed_ him?" Ava sputtered.

"I didn't go all the way into the Citadel. But I tracked him. I can burrow tunnels now," she said, pride creeping into her voice. "And I tried to track his emotions. I could tell something had gone wrong—he was in so much pain."

"That was incredibly brave, Kira. Truly. I...we owe you a debt of gratitude. Yesterday could've been so much more—"

Ava broke off as Kira smiled. "What is it?"

"Oh, it wasn't yesterday. You've been asleep for a long time."

"How long?"

"Four days. I think you were dying," Kira said, in the way only children can. "Lu—we were all really upset. Nobody would leave your side. You were covered in ice. And it wouldn't melt. No matter what we did." Kira added, "I even tried the alliance stone."

"What...what happened to me?"

Kira's eyes widened. "I've never seen anything like it. Roger turned blue and then you turned blue. And this globe of ice enveloped you both, and the ice kept spreading and spreading. For miles. It covered the whole city. Lucas pushed himself up from the rubble and just kind of grabbed onto where you were locked in the ice. And then he made fire."

"He _made fire_?"

"He was just kind of pulsing in fire," Kira said. "Little flames were leaping and jumping from his skin. At one point you tried to shake him off. But he held on. He held on for so long...and eventually he must have thawed you."

Ava shook her head. "He saved my life."

"Um, I think I'd call it a draw," Kira said, smiling widely.

Ava wanted to smile back but she couldn't. The grief was waiting there inside of her, dammed up, and if she smiled, she'd unleash it.

A door opened and Ava looked up hopefully. She sank back into her pillows when she saw who it was. "Hello, Taylah."

"Ava, I'm so glad you're awake. We weren't sure..."

"The volcanoes?" Ava asked, ignoring the note of affection in Taylah's voice.

Taylah shook her head. "Gaia's holding off. After you dispatched Roger we managed to arrange a tentative ceasefire with the remaining Ares Elders in the Citadel."

Something about the way Taylah said the last part made Ava sit up straighter. She asked, "What do you mean, remaining?"

"There weren't...many. Roger's been _eliminating_ anyone not faithful to his leadership. That's why there were so few Ares to confront us in our battle at the Citadel. Roger activated the Citadel's defenses—the hordes of metal creatures—but..."

"So he was even more ruthless than we thought—killing off so many Elders of his own Order...What about the Makhai?" Ava asked.

"Roger had dispatched most of them to find and kill the Star Crossed and to assassinate any Elders who dared to speak out against him. He thought it might help goad Gaia into triggering the apocalypse. We're hunting the rest of them now, with the help of the Ares Elders. Our intel never fully captured how intense the Ares civil war had become. Lilith's murder caused deep resentment against the Makhai. Her death spurred other Ares Elders to revolt."

Ava nodded and continued, her voice businesslike, "You were meeting with my mother?"

Taylah frowned at Kira. "Yes. We had some business to discuss."

"Such as?" _Such as, why isn't she here? To see her daughter who almost died_.

Taylah answered the question Ava had really wanted to ask, "She wanted to join us, but she is _indisposed_."

"Indisposed?"

"She wasn't sure when you would wake and the grief was becoming unbearable...she has allowed her animal side to take over for a little while. One of the black bear families from Virginia has welcomed her into their fold. But she asked me to show you this, when you woke."

Taylah held out her phone to Ava where she could see her mother bearing the alliance tattoo above her collarbone. The dam in Ava's chest trembled but held.

"But there's somebody else who'd like to see you," Taylah added.

_Lucas? Owen? Natasha?_ "Keegitah?" Ava said, eyes widening. "What are you doing here?" She felt a surge of excitement at the older woman's appearance but it was quickly replaced with anger. More secrets, more lies—Keegitah was a part of Taylah's plot after all.

Keegitah's smile faltered. "How are you feeling, Ava?" she asked kindly.

"Fine," Ava replied stonily. "Why are you here, Keegitah?" she asked, closing her eyes. She was done with the secrecy, the power politics, the endless responsibility of the Order.

Keegitah nodded somberly as if she could read Ava's thoughts. She opened her mouth and then closed it. "To start a new Order," she said finally.

_Of course._ "The camp? On Mayne Island? You were building it for your new Order?"

Keegitah nodded.

"You were planning to create the Order from all the remaining Star Crossed and their friends and families?"

It was Taylah who answered. "Yes. Some have already signed on. We're hopeful that others will join in time, but it's a momentous choice to leave your Order. We're not rushing anyone."

_But in the meantime, the rogue Gaia and Ares teens and their families would provide a powerful incentive for both orders to negotiate with the new Order_ , Ava thought.

Ava shook her head. "How...how will it work?"

There hadn't been a new Order since the first two were created more than seven hundred years ago. It would be quite the undertaking to build one from scratch. Although if there were anyone up to the challenge it would be Keegitah and Taylah.

"We've been gathering the stories and the laws of Indigenous peoples all across the world," Keegitah said. "Just like the stories of my people I shared with you. They'll anchor us as we rebuild, taking the best from the Gaia and the Ares to form the Alliance."

" _The Alliance_ ," Ava said, seeing how the words felt on her tongue. She sat up, closer to Keegitah. "The tattoos, the ones fashioned after my scar—they're the symbol of the Alliance?"

Taylah answered, "Yes. At first it was just a way for Owen and Lucas to show their support for you, for your vision of peace between the orders. But then the tattoos started spreading just as your message spread."

"No doubt with a little help from you?" Ava said.

Taylah grinned. "I might've fanned the flames."

"The Ares and their tattoos," Keegitah teased, smiling at Taylah.

They were interrupted by the sound of raucous laughter. Ava looked up, her whole body tensing. Lucas and Owen strode into the room, laughing and teasing one another. They stopped abruptly when they saw Ava, as if embarrassed to be caught enjoying themselves after what had happened. But Ava wasn't mad; she was jealous. A smile seemed like a stretch right now. She moved her jaw experimentally. Laughter—how would that work?

"Ava," Lucas and Owen blurted at the same time.

"You're awake!" Owen exclaimed joyfully.

Lucas blushed fire engine red.

She couldn't stand the awkward pauses, the way everyone seemed trapped in her grief like ants in honey. "Hey, what's so funny?" she croaked.

"Nothing," Owen said quickly, pink rising in his cheeks.

"Oh I was just asking Owen if he'd noticed Rhea's new tattoo."

Owen shoved Lucas.

"What? She saved your life, dude. Nothing hotter than that," Lucas said, turning bright eyes on Ava.

She tried not to be the Ice Queen, but a return smile wouldn't come. She looked away. Lucas deflated.

_No, I am not the Ice Queen_. "What about Natasha?" Ava asked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Owen said, but the pink crept higher in his cheeks.

Lucas said, "Have you asked her yet?"

"No," Taylah said, exasperated. "Keegitah and I were just getting to that."

Ava looked up. "Asked me what?" Her heart skipped. Any surprise was a bad surprise as far as she was concerned.

"One of the most important steps in creating the Alliance is assembling a Council. This one will be a little different—leaders will be appointed _and_ elected, and obviously we want young people as well as Elders. Keegitah will be taking the lead on building the new Order and..."

Keegitah chimed in, "And I'd love to have you work with me, on the Council. You've electrified the movement for peace. And people look up to you as the Alpha."

"Thank you..." Ava trailed off, overwhelmed by the offer. Her long-held dream was becoming a reality and yet... "This new Order, _our_ new Order will be home to both Gaia and Ares, and who knows who or what else. But if I want to be able to lead Ares members, I think I need to spend a bit more time learning about my human side." It was her turn to shoot Lucas a meaningful look.

"But, we could—"

"Ava, the Order needs you—"

"Don't leave us just when—"

Everybody spoke over each other at once, each trying to change Ava's mind. Everybody except Keegitah, who gave her a knowing look. Ava wasn't listening. She heard a scratching at the window nearest to her bed and she knew exactly who it was. She pushed the covers off and tottered towards the door, sore muscles protesting. There was silence behind her but all she could think of was getting outside.

"Sheba," she whispered, pushing open the door and collapsing into the black bear's embrace. They held each other, trembling with grief as they remembered the woman they had loved—grandmother, friend, mentor, protector. Sheba threw her head back and roared, grief strangling her cry. Ava did the same. Her chest thrummed with grief. Cicadas rose in a black wave across the sky, giving one last haunting salute to Lena.

Epilogue

"Oh wait, Antarctica is slipping," Ava said, pulling at the continent taped above her right knee.

"I'll get it," Lucas said, grabbing her stomach.

"That's Africa," she said with a laugh, swatting his hand away.

Someone made a gagging noise behind them and said, "Please don't block the staircase with your gross American PDA."

Ava laughed, turning to find Greg, one of Lucas's oldest friends and now a sixth-year student at Trinity College in Melbourne, Australia. "Oh hi, Greg, lovely to see you too. What are you dressed as?"

The strapping redhead had several pale brown bulbous forms attached to his head and shoulders.

"Ginger!" Lucas exclaimed before Greg could answer. "You genius. A ginger dressed as ginger."

"Nice," Ava said.

"And what are you two? The Earth, I presume," he said, gesturing at Ava.

" _Mother_ Earth," Ava answered, trading smiles with Lucas. It was their little joke.

"And you?" Greg asked, turning to Lucas.

"The Big Bang," Lucas answered, smiling toothily.

"Was it really necessary for the Big Bang to be shirtless?" Greg teased.

"Do you think they had shirts when the Big Bang happened?" Lucas asked.

"By that terrible logic, I doubt they had pants," Greg said.

"True," Lucas said, fumbling with his fly.

"No, thank you. I think Trinity College gets to see quite enough of you already this evening," Ava said, nudging Lucas and smiling.

"If only you'd found a way to cover that ugly mug of yours," Greg added.

"Hey!" Lucas said.

"But at least you're showing off your epic scar," Greg said, pointing at the raised red line across Lucas's heart. Ava hadn't known it at the time, but Roger had actually pulled Lucas's last sangstone right out of his heart that night back in DC.

"When are you going to tell me how you got it?" Greg asked.

"You don't believe the chainsaw story?" Lucas said.

"Not for a minute," Greg said.

"In that case, I got it from a homicidal monster trying to burn the world down." Lucas was smiling widely but there was an edge in his voice.

Greg's smile faltered. He knew about the orders; he knew Lucas might not be joking.

"Just kidding. God, gingers are so gullible," Lucas said, ducking as Greg lunged at him.

Another student walked down the stairs.

"Hey, Jas," Greg said brightly, still holding Lucas in a headlock.

"Hey, guys," Jas replied, not batting an eye at the sight of two grown men wrestling in costume on the stairs. "Nice costumes—some kind of universe...Mother Earth...What are you supposed to be, Greg?"

"Come on," Greg replied with faux exasperation. "Your friendly neighborhood root..."

" _Ginger_!" Jas exclaimed. "A ginger dressed as a ginger—classic."

"I'm so glad you appreciate true artistry," Greg said. "And you're..."

"Dark matter, obviously," Jas said. She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt.

Greg look puzzled for a moment and then smiled. "You didn't have time to find a costume, did you?"

Jas grinned. "No. But they haven't discovered real dark matter yet. So _this_ could be what it looks like." She gestured at her outfit.

"Hey, sweet new tattoo," Greg said, blushing slightly and pointing at the ink on Jas's wrist. "What does it mean?"

"It's supposed to be an ancient symbol for peace," Jas said.

Ava and Lucas traded smiles, trying not to laugh.

"Wait a second, that kind of looks like Lucas's tattoo," Greg said.

Jas peered at the ink above Lucas's collarbone. "Whoa, crazy. They are really similar."

Jas's tattoo was rougher, more geometric, but there was an unmistakable outline of a dagger overlaid on top of the Earth. She didn't know it, but she had an alliance stone tattoo.

Ava couldn't hold it any longer, she burst out giggling. Lucas joined her.

"What's so funny, you two?" Greg asked. When they couldn't answer, he said, "Shall we head down?"

"In a minute," Ava managed finally, wiping away her tears.

"Ok, see you lovebirds down there. Jas and I will save you a spot on the dance floor—I know Mother Earth over here needs a good five foot buffer for those flying elbows."

They all laughed. Near the bottom of the stairs, Greg paused, squinting at something to his left. "Don't my muscles look big in this one?" he asked, pointing at a photo on the wall.

Ava shivered. She'd stood here in the heart of Trinity College once before, staring wistfully at the photos lining the wall. She'd felt like a ghost then, on the run and unable to connect to the people and places around her. She'd ached with longing at the photos of laughing and hugging friends, of camaraderie and community—things she'd thought she'd never have.

"Ava, you ok?" the ginger dressed as ginger asked from the bottom of the stairs.

Ava looked up, eyes shining. " _Huge_ , your muscles look huge in that one...almost as big as mine." She winked at him.

Lucas squeezed one of her biceps and wolf-whistled. Greg snorted in disgust and headed for the door with Jas. At the last minute he turned and winked at Ava.

When he was gone, Ava leaned into Lucas. "Who'll make sure Greg wears pants to class when we're gone?"

"I dunno. Do you think we should stay? Just in case?" Lucas said.

Ava groaned; she was tempted. Two years. They'd snatched two precious years here in Melbourne, thousands of miles away from anything to do with the orders. The ceasefire between the orders had turned slowly but surely into a tenuous peace. Just as Taylah and Keegitah had predicted, with so many Gaia and Ares defectors joining the Alliance, families didn't want to fight one another.

"I'll make a little sign for his door: 'Greg, today is a good day to wear pants,'" Ava offered, her voice catching.

"Brilliant. No wonder your profs are so distraught about your mysterious transfer to an American college. Who's going to work on renewable energy now?"

Ava had spent a very entertaining two years mystifying the chemistry and engineering departments with her impossible experiments and results.

"And what about you? Who's going to charm politicians into caring about climate justice?"

"I think my charm is wearing thin. Angela Merkel didn't so much as blink at me in Morocco."

Ava laughed and started down the stairs.

"Remember this?" she pointed at a photo.

There was a speck of black on the edge; it was Sheba disappearing around the corner before the photographer documented her presence for all the world to see. It would be very hard to explain the existence of a wild black bear on campus. Sheba had moved in with Ava's mom and Cleopatra. The three of them had taken in a whole menagerie of rescue animals. Cleopatra was quite taken with an old pig they'd welcomed and the two would go swimming together. That alone was reason enough to return.

"Oh, _Captain Planet_ ," Lucas said, pointing at a small framed photo. Owen was mid handstand. He had visited with Natasha last year. Not _with_ Natasha, as Ava had once hoped. But that door still seemed open. Natasha was in Boston for college and Owen frequented the northeast, helping with the creation of the Alliance.

"Oh, I've never noticed this one before," Ava said, gesturing at a new photo. Kira was perched on Greg's shoulders watching Lucas and his boat row in the university regatta. "I _like_ this one," Ava added with a cheeky smile.

"Do you now?" Lucas said, drawing close to her.

"Oh, s'cuse me," said a student, dressed as Saturn, rings and all. His costume was so wide he could barely pass them on the stairs.

"He needs even more space on the dance floor than you do," Lucas teased.

Ava ignored him. She'd found an older photo; it was from their very first time at Trinity. Ava had launched herself out of the oak tree in front of hundreds of freshers and somebody had snapped a photo.

"This one's my favorite," Lucas said, pointing to a photo on the other side. Ava smiled. In the photo she had her arms draped around Owen and Lucas; they were drenched and smiling, tattoos prominent. Greg had positioned the college's giant speakers out towards the grassy quad and Ava had summoned a rainstorm. They'd danced for hours, the crowd of students growing bigger and bigger. And then Lucas and Ava had ducked somewhere private, to warm each other up.

"That was a good day," Lucas said, leaning into her. Still holding his hand, she tugged him down the stairs and into a hidden nook, folding into him. Lucas growled when she finally pulled away. She gave him a feline smile and headed out the doors into the quad.

"Where you going, Earth Mother?" Lucas called after her.

"To spin on my axis," she yelled back, giving herself a silent hat tip for the terrible pun. There was a rustle of leaves above her, and Ava looked up to see the grand old oak giggling at her joke. A gnarled root poked its way out of the ground and Ava grasped it affectionately. There was a burst of return love from the tree and Ava's chest filled with an impossible lightness—hope. She was returning as the Alpha, to protect the world and its creatures. She felt strong, calm, happy.

Lucas came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nestling his chin into her shoulder. "Look," he whispered.

A ring of light sparkled in the distance like a house-sized diadem. Shouts of joy and excitement echoed from the dance floor, constructed under the trees and watched over by a giant glowing moon.

"Can we just watch for a moment?" Ava asked.

"No, Ava Fae, tonight we _dance_ ," Lucas replied, pulling her towards the music. "Just try not to elbow me in the chest again while you're spinning."

"I make no promises," Ava said with a smile. _Only one_ , she added in her head. _We're in this together, Earth Mother. I've got your back._
Author's Note

As the world tries to move towards a more just and sustainable future, Indigenous law offers an invaluable resource to guide and support us on the path. In 2015, I had the wonderful opportunity to learn from the Indigenous Law Research Unit (ILRU) at the University of Victoria. The ILRU deepened my understanding of the revitalization of Indigenous law happening across Canada. I was in the midst of writing this book, the final installment in the Ava of the Gaia trilogy, and couldn't imagine completing a series about animal welfare, environmentalism, and climate justice without referencing the power of and opportunity presented by Indigenous law. As John Borrows explains in _Canada's Indigenous Constitution_ , "there are many sources of law within Indigenous communities."* One way to engage with Indigenous legal traditions is through stories.** Although I reference the stories of the Anishinaabe peoples, I do not share the stories themselves. If you would like to learn more about the stories and laws of the Anishinaabe, there are so many wonderful resources available. Here are a few suggestions:

John Borrows, "Seven Gifts: Revitalizing Living Laws Through Indigenous Legal Practice" (2016) 2:1 Lakehead Law Journal 1.

Lindsay Borrows, _Otter's Journey through Indigenous Language and Law_ (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2018).

Jill Doerfler, Niigaanwewidam James Sinclair, and Heidi Kiiwetinepinesiik Stark, editors, _Centering Anishinaabeg Studies: Understanding the World through Stories_ (East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 2013).

You can find more about the important work of the Indigenous Law Research Unit here: https://www.uvic.ca/law/about/indigenous/indigenouslawresearchunit/

If you too want to have Mother Nature's back, there are so many possible ways to do that. One way, already mentioned above, is to engage with and learn from Indigenous peoples' laws. Another is to become a member of your local 350.org group and join the global fight for climate justice. Every person matters. Every action helps.

Finally, I'd like to thank everyone who helped me bring this book to life, especially the early readers—Maira Hassan, Terri-Lynn Williams-Davidson, Lindsay Borrows, Georgia Lloyd-Smith, Kalila Wilkinson, Claris Figueira, and my family. I am also incredibly grateful to the readers who supported my Kickstarter campaign for Ava's War— _thank you_.

* John Borrows, _Canada's Indigenous Constitution_ (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2000) at 24.

** Val Napoleon & Hadley Friedland, "An Inside Job: Engaging with Indigenous Legal Traditions Through Stories" (2016) 61 McGill LJ 725, 725.
About the Author

G.E. Nosek was born and raised in New Jersey. She graduated from Rice University and Harvard Law School and works in public interest environmental law. She's never met a dance party she didn't want to join.

Connect with G.E. Nosek

http://genosek.com

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Ava-of-the-Gaia/216944938353122

