Between Tides Thunder(120)

My hand hesitates. Just for a breath. But it’s enough time for guilt to wedge itself deep.

I kill her anyway.

Tundrayn is here, too.

And it’s not to rescue me.


Not too far from where we killed the waterwielders, the rebels have organized a makeshift command center, guarded by wielders and armed nonwielders—it’s where we find Tairna, standing before the assembled crowd. She appears relatively unharmed. Some of the tension melts from Zev’s shoulders.

Tairna’s voice is steady as she gives orders. One team is assigned to dig out survivors from leveled buildings and evacuate those in the ones still standing. Another team to man the east side of the camp, and a third defending the west side.

“One more team to patrol the perimeter,” Zev calls. Heads swivel in our direction. “I’ll lead.”

Tairna freezes, eyes wide. Then, she’s shouldering her way through the crowd, dark tunic fluttering. She knocks into Zev with the force of a maelstrom, twining her arms around him. For several heartbeats, she doesn’t move.

Then, she turns to me. I don’t know what I expect—a nod, maybe, or one of her warm smiles. But her arms wrap around me like I belong to her, too. My body is stiff for only a second before I melt into her embrace.

She cradles my face, eyes glistening with tears, before tugging Zev into the hug along with her. The sight of her tears, for me, elicits an unfamiliar warmth. One minute is all she allows us, one minute wrapped in each other’s arms. For that brief moment, I pretend this is real.

That we’re a family.

Then she lets go—draws back and steels herself, a commander in her own right.

“Send a missive to the Volcans and the other rebel camps. Tell them to send as many men as they can spare,” Zev says.

“I already did. I don’t know how long it will take, though. We need to hold them off until then.”

“We will.” Zev is sure. Solid. “I’ll round up the men for the perimeter.” He walks away. I follow him.

“Mayah”—Tairna grabs my hand—“we can’t risk anything happening to you. When the dust settles, you need to lead.”

I glance down at her hand, laced with mine. I squeeze it gently.

“I go with Zev.”

Tairna looks distressed. She turns to her son with anguished eyes. “Zev. She cannot go with you.”

Zev doesn’t answer immediately. Just studies my face. Then, he takes my hand from hers and laces his long fingers through mine. “There’s no stopping her, Mother. I’ll protect her. Or I’ll die.”

A shuddering sob wrenches from Tairna’s chest when Zev calls her mother. She embraces us once more. Then, without another word, she returns to the front of the room.


“I’ll have to summon lightning,” Zev says quietly as we exit the command center.

“I know. I’m ready.”

Zev rounds up his team, the largest of the four, men and women with solemn faces staring at him. Rain pelts our faces, turning the ground into muck beneath my bare feet.

“Many of you have faced me in battle,” Zev says, his voice hard. “Tonight, I fight beside you. If you can’t stomach that, then leave. Now.”

No one moves.

“Good. This woman”—he points to me—“is your future. Protecting her is everyone’s top priority. Understood?” I shoot him a scathing look but don’t say anything. Now’s not the time to undermine him.

The rebels all nod.

Zev raises a fist.

“Move out.”





CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT




THROUGH THE CHAOS, ORDER slowly takes shape. Zev, a storm in motion, barks out commands with practiced authority, dividing the rebels into groups of six. Four teams disperse in different directions, each assigned to sweep for intruders, secure fallen zones, or reinforce collapsing defenses.

We join the eastern patrol, skirting the outer edge of the camp. My eyes dart between trees, over rooftops, around crumbling barricades—searching for anything that doesn’t belong.

As we near the eastern wall, the sounds of battle sharpen—shouts, the clash of steel, the low groan of twisting roots. A group of earthwielders engages in brutal combat with a handful of rebels. Thick vines writhe from the soil, slamming into stone and limbs alike.

My heart skips when I spot a flash of Tumaas’s dark braids, whipping like cords as he ducks low, slicing through a vine with his blade. Beside him, Mona crouches behind the remains of a shattered wall, eyes narrowed in focus.

A sharp twang.

An arrow whistles through the air and strikes one of the earthwielders square in the chest. He topples backward with a grunt, his roots withering mid-attack.

Tides. Mona is a terrifyingly good shot.

Zev and I join them.

Tumaas reads the frantic question on my face. “Sura’s fine. Not a scratch on her. Sent us back out to be useful. She said she’d disown me if I ‘shame’ her.”

I loose a breath I’d been holding since the building fell on me.

An arrow whizzes between us, narrowly missing our faces.

“Enough chatter!” Zev snaps at us, his sword already embedded in the shooter’s chest.

We fall into formation.

Water arcs through the air. Freezing. Choking. Killing.