TFS: Burnt Earth
CONNOR 47: BACKUP

Connor

I knew confronting Molly was relatively safe. Sheyla, on the other hand, might show me a different side of her light. The side that comes with a Class C fire, indexing at 200 on the flame spread range.

Sheyla’s running. What’s she’s not doing is paying attention to what her feet are up to. She trips over some forest floor roots, landing in a gross pool of muck. “Nice,” I mutter.

“What do you want, Connor?” she seethes. Yep, mad as fuck.

I hold up my hands in mock defence. “Let me explain.”

“You could explain how it is you’re still breathing,” she snicks. “That’d be a good start.”

Molly jumps from the living room to the ground, positioning herself between Sheyla and me. I’m not letting her take the heat. Heat I’ve earned, even if my intentions were solid.

“Get out of my way, Molly,” she demands.

“Let him talk,” she encourages her.

“There’s nothing to talk about!” she roars, and I see her skin heating up. It distorts my vision, like I’m looking at a blacktop roadway in Texas August. “How are you explaining taking my mother? Trying to take me? Turning your back on me? And worse, turning your back on your sister? After all she did for you! You can’t explain that away, Connor. There’s no use trying.”

“Please listen to him,” Molly begs her. Fuck, her voice is a pitiful whisper. Completely unlike her.

“You have three minutes,” she negotiates. “That’s me being generous.”

“You think you’ve got it all figured out,” I begin my petition. “You’re looking at this all wrong.”

“You’re not off to a good start,” she warns me.

“I didn’t know how it’d all play out,” I admit. “I genuinely didn’t expect you to so easily distrust me. I mean, I understand you do. I understand why, but seriously, Sheyla, think about it. You know me.”

“Obviously, I don’t know you,” she argues.

“Yes, you do,” I disagree. “Think this through. Use that beautifully logical brain of yours and tell me why I took her. Tell me why I didn’t just stay with you.”

“How about you just tell me yourself instead of trying to make me figure it out?”

“Because if I just tell you, you won’t believe me,” I counter. “You need to figure it out for yourself. That’s the only way you’re going to understand. Brain on. Not hands on, and never ears on. That’s always been your thing.”

I’m taking a huge ass risk here. What if she doesn’t come to the right conclusion? I watch her facial expressions as she works through the presented problems. Phelan wasn’t the hierarchical leader. He was just our leader. Taking her mother, shitty as it was, garnered the trust I needed from the Tribunal to strike from within, along with the opportunity to keep an ear out for any coming threat. Protection. It was all to protect the people I care most for, even if it meant not supporting them directly.

Fuck, I understand why she’s pissed. Her and Molly both. Still, I’d be lying if I said it isn’t the biggest ball flick of the century neither of them had any faith in me.

“I’m sorry, Connor,” she apologizes. “I didn’t even think about why.”

“Strategy isn’t exactly one of your finer points,” I tut. “No offence.”

“None taken.”

“All good?”

“There’s nothing good about this mess we’re in,” she crows.

“But we’re good, right?”

“If you want us to be,” she hedges.

“We’re all good,” I confirm.

“How’s Mom?” she asks quietly.

“She’s alright,” I insist. “They won’t risk hurting her…yet.”

“Because they want to make sure they get what they want out of me,” she reasons.

“Worse.” My voice is so low it even gives me goosebumps.

“What could possibly be worse?”

“They’ll force what they want out of you,” I acknowledge softly. “They want you to watch.”

“They want me to watch what?”

“They’ll force you to transition by making you watch them kill her,” I blurt.

“Yeah, that’ll do it.”

“Okay, now that we’ve gotten the nasty business out of the way,” I correct trajectory. “There’s something I want to show you.”

She shakes her head.

“You’ll like it.”

She sighs, and I grab hold of her hand, pulling her with me away from the treehouse. When she sees what’s waiting for her, she gasps. Hopefully, that’s a good gasp. “Not bad, right?”

“I think this definitely improves our odds,” she concedes.

There are twelve men sitting and waiting for me to return. Twelve bodies knowing how to fight. I didn’t just come back to explain what I’d done, to beg forgiveness. I brought help—Sentry help. With our team of twelve plus the bodies already on ground prior to our landing, our odds are infinitely better. Maybe we won’t have to fight the Rebels. Maybe they’ll see they’re outnumbered and give up before any fireworks fly.

“This is incredible,” she murmurs. “How did you do this? Is it because of the chain of command thing?”

“Nope.” I smile. “I just had to tell them what was really going on.” Fuck yeah on total transparency for the win.

“Your timing is perfect,” Dreyna announces. “They are coming.”

Aella’s an Air Solathair in the Amazon Coterie. Her specialty is something like a siren’s call. She can draw in whoever or whatever she wants so long as it’s living and mobile. Evadne, their Earth Solathair, communicates with nature. She has some serious social shortcomings, preferring to spend her time silently. Akantha, their Fire Solathair, accelerates the powers of those around her. Dreyna, their Water Solathair, is probably the most powerful of their lot. She functions as a filter for their powers, allowing them to feed from animals instead of humans.

Improved odds or not, facing the Rebels so soon is risky. Clearly, I’m not the only one concerned, seeing as Sheyla throws up all over the ground in front of her. Ryan pats her reassuringly on the back. “It’ll be okay.”

“Here soon. Not now,” Aella declares. “Still time.”

“We need to make good use of it,” I note. “Sheyla, I need you to do the snip and clip you pulled off for the others that defected.”

“There’s too many,” she complains. “I’ll never get through them in time, and if I did, they’d still have to work through figuring out what they have the ability to do. That isn’t a quick process.”

“I’m going to see how long we have.” Molly slips behind a tree and shapeshifts into the eagle. Fucking glorious. My sister is absolutely, positively glorious.

“That’s another thing,” Sheyla tacks on. “While Seán has a pretty awesome trick, he isn’t able to direct it. Molly can’t do anything like that. She can shapeshift into the eagle, but she doesn’t have any other ability.”

“Watching is a useful ability,” I defend her, “and she’s still experienced in hand to hand combat.”

“That’s true,” Seán agrees. “We all are.”

“I help with time problem,” Akantha offers.

“How?”

“I help you complete single snip, instead of many,” she clarifies.

“That would help,” Sheyla agrees.

“Well, let’s get on with it then,” Tally pushes her. “We’ve got some serious preparation ahead of us and no time to get it done.”

We stand in a single line with me on the far left. Sheyla cracks her knuckles, positioning herself in front of us. Akantha stands at her side. Then the light show starts. Flames dance around them. They swirl and circle in the air. They’re fucking beautiful. Just like our girl. The fire moves forward, positioning itself in front of each of us. It waits for her approval. Once she lets it go, it moves into us in sync, snipping all the golden threads binding us to the Sentry. We all stare at her, slack jawed in awe.

“Well.” She dusts her hands on her pants. “What’s next?”

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