The scorched path didn’t cool, as we made camp. After Edie had told each of us how we slipped up, she finally talked herself out. I did not care if she was right or not. She usually is. I just wanted to to get some rest.
The next morning, we moved into the forest. Burned brush gave way to snapped roots and uneven ground, the kind that seemed to reach up and grab at your ankles. Birds sang overhead, loud and beautiful and irritating, as if the forest itself were trying too hard to sound welcoming after what we’d just done to it.
Edie walked ahead like the ground owed her something. Lea trailed behind her, unusually quiet, fingers twitching now and then as if remembering the shape of lightning. Ox kept close to me, watchful but calm. Alfie brought up the rear, like always, thinking too much.
We left any conversation about the fight at the burned out campfire. That probably meant we were all thinking about it.
Eventually the brush thinned and opened into a small clearing, the trees set back and their roots worn flat where others had passed through before us. The birdsong softened here, less shrill, more distant.
“We should probably stop here,” Alfie said.
“Probably?” Edie snapped immediately. “We still have plenty of daylight.”
“You don’t know that,” Alfie replied evenly.
“Nor do you,” she clipped back, each word sharpened.
Gods, these two annoyed me.
Ox cleared his throat. “Maybe it’s time to rest.”
He said it gently. Carefully. Like he was laying something fragile between them.
“Ox is probably right,” I added, grinning. I didn’t even pretend neutrality anymore.
Edie exhaled sharply. “Fine. Let’s gather firewood.”
Once the wood was stacked and the bedrolls laid out, Lea did her little flame thing. Fire bloomed, warm and controlled, and the evening chill retreated.
I listened to about five minutes of Alfie and Edie arguing strategy while Ox tried to mediate. Eventually I rolled over in my bedroll and tuned them out. I’d never listened to either of them in a fight before. I didn’t see why tonight should be different.
Turns out, I was wrong.
We broke camp early the next morning. Too early for my liking.
By midday, I saw figures ahead on the road.
Not this again.
That was my first thought.
No bushes. No clever angles. No surprise rocks flying out of nowhere. Just a line of familiar faces standing in the middle of the road like they were waiting for a parade.
I laughed before I could stop myself. “Didn’t we do this already?”
“Are you following us now?” I called, hands loose at my sides. “Because this is starting to feel flattering.”
The leader scowled. “Shut up.”
Oh. Still charming.
I glanced back. Edie had already shifted, shoulders squared, eyes sharp. Ox rolled his neck once, slow and deliberate. Lea’s hands were empty, which meant she was thinking very hard about keeping them that way.
Progress.
The teens rushed us.
To their credit, they didn’t just scream and throw rocks this time. Two came from the left, one wide, one low. Someone tried to circle behind us. Still sloppy. Still loud. Still obvious.
But better.
“Left flank!” Edie barked. “Raven, disappear. Ox, forward!”
“No, hold,” Alfie shouted. “They’re spreading. Ox, don’t overextend. Raven, wait for my mark.”
I hesitated.
Half a heartbeat.
Half a heartbeat was a lifetime.
I vanished anyway.
Sorry, Alfie. Edie was right this time.
I reappeared behind the one circling, hooked his foot, and vanished again before he hit the dirt. It felt different this time. Cleaner. Deliberate.
Gods, that alone felt like a victory.
“Left!” Edie snapped. “Alfie, get higher ground. I need eyes.”
“I am the eyes,” Alfie shot back. “You need to stop pulling Ox forward. They’re baiting him.”
Ox slowed. Hesitated.
That was bad.
Alfie and Edie were both trying to protect us.
They were just doing it from opposite ends of the fight.
Then Ox moved.
No hesitation. No searching for me. He barreled forward and dropped two attackers with the haft of his axe like he was clearing brush.
I popped back into view long enough to twist a wrist. A rock clattered free.
“Hey,” I said cheerfully. “A gift for me?”
They didn’t appreciate the feedback.
I saw Lea out of the corner of my eye. The storm was brewing.
“Lea, don’t!” Alfie yelled.
“Lea, now!” Edie shouted.
I winced.
Lea chose neither.
That was worse.
Lightning crackled, tight and focused. Fire followed, precise. Dirt scorched. Feet singed. One teen yelped and bolted.
Edie moved like she always did. Not flashy. Just exactly where she needed to be, voice snapping commands like she’d been doing this her whole life.
Big plus: still no healing required.
It ended fast.
When the dust settled, every one of the teens was down. Groaning. Bruised. Pride more wounded than bodies.
No one dead. No one bleeding badly.
I bent over, hands on my knees, breathing hard and grinning.
“That,” I said, “went much better than last time.”
Edie rounded on Alfie. “You can’t second-guess me mid-combat.”
“And you can’t treat people like pieces on a board,” Alfie shot back.
I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Nope. Not in the middle of those two.
Ox sat down.
Just… sat. Right there in the road, cross-legged, like this was a lesson instead of a fight.
“What are you doing?” Alfie asked.
Ox patted the ground. “Okay, kids. Gather round.”
Edie spun. “Ox—”
“Giving advice,” he said calmly.
One of the teens groaned. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” Ox said. “But you’re inefficient.”
That got their attention.
“You waste energy. Too much noise. Too many rocks. And you attack people who clearly don’t have money.”
He gestured at us.
“We look like we have money?” I snorted.
“Hit the rich,” Ox said simply.
Silence.
Edie stared at him like he’d just kicked a puppy. “Why are you encouraging them?!”
Ox finally looked at her. His voice stayed soft.
“You’ve never been in their shoes.”
Something in my chest went warm and stupid.
Gods, I love him.
“Also,” I added, “stop attacking us. You’re just sharpening our skills.”
“You’re awful,” one of them muttered.
“Thank you,” I said. “We try.”
Ox stood, brushing dirt from his hands. “Now go. And think.”
They limped off, swearing, but they didn’t look back.
Edie crossed her arms, still simmering. Lea exhaled slowly, like she had been holding her breath.
Alfie glanced at me. “Was that wise?”
I shrugged. “Time will tell.”
I looked down the road. Burned brush. Broken stones. Consequences, probably.
“Either way,” I said, smiling, “they won’t forget us.”
And somehow, I didn’t think that was a bad thing.