All Maruca could see was the blood.
Even after the gang leader disappeared into the forest opposite the museum.
Even after Stina hailed Belisia on her Imparter.
Even after Fitz was rushed by people, too many people, into the medical tent. He couldn't go to a real hospital because of identities, plus it would give too much away and—
All she could see was the blood, a circle on his shirt at first, then blooming into a distorted shape that ran down his chest.
She gagged at the memory. The horror and disgust and fear—it was all a tornado, destroying her mind.
But worst of all was the guilt. It was her fault he'd been shot, her idea to go forward with the heist, her insistence that Jonathan wasn't lying. Except she'd been played. The whole time, the gang had managed to stay one step ahead of them.
And she'd convinced Fitz to choose the impulsive decision. All because she couldn't live with herself if the forest burned. At this point she didn't doubt the gang would have done it, but maybe everyone would have leaped away. Maybe no one would've gotten hurt.
They'd done the heist regardless, and Fitz had gotten hurt. She didn't even know if he was going to survive.
"He's going to be fine," Stina snapped as she paced angrily by Maruca. Every time she did so her gaze would return to the tent flap. Behind it was the doctor and Fitz.
Maruca stood still, as if moving would cause the doctor's hands to slip, the surgery to go wrong. She didn't know much about human medicines and treatments, but she didn't trust it. Not because it was human, but because it was unfamiliar. The elves had gotten used to ointments and elixirs to heal them, but the humans had to push themselves in order to save the injured.
Think about that, she told herself. The humans work extra hard to ensure they can save lives. That must mean their doctors are good.
She'd once heard Livvy say she was impressed by human medicines; that had to count for something.
But it was hard to think that way when her friend was a curtain away, dying unless the doctor could put a stop to it.
The rustling of Belisia's skirts grew louder as the Ancient appeared from the shadows—amplified by the crackling fires—of the trees. "Perhaps—and I know you won't want to hear this—you should leave. Go home. In light of what you saw in the painting..."
"Is that all you care about?" Maruca's voice came like a knife, but she didn't care. Everything that had led up to this had been about the heist. Maruca's decision... It had been spurned by Belisia's stubborn persuance of the stupid painting. It was her fault.
"No. I am very much concerned for Fitzroy's health, just as you are. But there is nothing more you can do. Jonathan was after that painting of your house... and after what you've told me, I have a feeling they didn't simply want it because they wished us to leave. I'm sure that was a part of it, but they are smart. I fear for your family more than I do for us here. I trust Dr. Neal; he will see Fitzroy through. Whether he wakes up to find you or not doesn't matter when the Purities' next target may be Everfalls."
Maruca deflated immediately, the need for conflict zapped out of her by Belisia's words. She'd pushed the worry to the back of her mind, but the truth was, she'd been thinking the exact same thing. Jonathan's gang could have been in league with the Purities, or even if the Purities weren't after Everfalls, someone had to be. That painting must've been around for a long time; Nhyonuitoufhoa was old, and it made sense there was an artist out there who'd wanted to capture its beauty. But out of all the ancient artwork in the St. Louis Art Museum, Jonathan's gang had just so happened to be after the one of her house.
The thought of losing Lesedi even more than she'd already had, as well as her father and Uncle Prentice, made Maruca want to retch. Yet the duty to wait, to make sure Fitz was going to be alright, stayed her feet.
"Go," Stina said, finally putting a pause to her frenetic stomping. Sometimes Maruca wondered if she was a descendant of mastodons. "It'll be good to be rid of you." She forced a smile, and when Maruca didn't reciprocate, her gaze grew serious. "Nothing will happen to him. I'll be here, waiting. Trust me."
Maruca didn't—and Stina knew that. But it also didn't matter. They were right. She wasn't sure she wanted to be here when Fitz regained consciousness anyway; what if he blamed her too? What if he hated her?
She'd failed in protecting him, but maybe she could still protect her family.
Without a word—she wouldn't have known what to say anyway—she pulled out her home crystal and held it to the light. A breath, but no sound came from the tent. If Fitz's fate was going to be decided tonight, it wouldn't be now. She closed her eyes, saw the blood, and leaned into the light. The warmth of a leap, too pleasant after what she'd just been through, tingled throughout her body. Echoes of it remained after Everfalls faded into view, but they were soon replaced by chills as the unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang in the still clearing. She wasn't sure if it was memory or truth, but either way she threw her hands into the air and summoned a force field around her. It flickered when there was another gunshot—her heart lurched, causing her break in focus—and she screamed, reinforcing the energy.
"Maruca!" a voice cried, and ice froze her veins as she watched her father run out of the house toward her. Right behind him was a tall, thin girl with black hair that had silver tips—Linh. Maruca didn't have time to wonder what she was doing here before thrusting a hand their way. A ball of energy hovered above them, but it sparked and crackled, refusing to go any farther than two feet down. She growled in frustration; close to the house, it was too humid to do anything with her ability. She should have remembered that.
"Go back inside!" she shouted, but Thapelo didn't listen. A third gunshot rang out, and Maruca shrieked, dropping her force field in fear. But in the space between release and contact, a wall of water, formed from the condensation of the grass, rose between Maruca and Thapelo and the invisible attacker. The bullet entered, slowed, and came to a stop before Linh sent the wave toward its source.
Thapelo finally reached Maruca and pulled her to the house. "What are you doing?! The Purities are here!"
"I know!" she shouted back, then shook her head. "But wait—those were gunshots. That's—"
"The Purities are human," Linh gasped, pushing Maruca the rest of the way into the house. Sweat dripped off her brow, and Maruca watched it fall onto the wooden floor.
What was happening?
"How do you—"
"Wylie and I were investigating them. I... I got to talk to one, and she showed me her face. Suffice it to say, we've been wrong about them this whole time. The Purities are humans, fighting against elvin power. Or, well, we don't really know what they're fighting against, but we're trying to figure that out."
"Mama's with Wylie, discussing something privately," Thapelo added, soothing a worry Maruca hadn't even known she'd had.
"And Prentice?"
"Right here," her uncle's voice said as they entered the living room, and he rose from the couch. "So they're out there?"
Thapelo's hand squeezed Maruca's shoulder even tighter. "Lesedi was right. I just don't know how she knew."
"She'll tell Wylie," murmured Linh. "It'll be up to him whether he will then tell us."
Everyone's words were running into rivers in Maruca's mind, and all she could think of was the blood. Finally she whispered, though she meant to blurt, "Fitz was shot."
The murmur had the same effect; the room screeched to a blaring silence. Prentice and Thapelo looked grim, but Linh's cheeks had paled. "W-what?"
"We were assigned a mission at a human reinstatement site, and we got involved in this heist... It's a long story, but in the end we came across a gang that shot Fitz. I left before figuring out if he was alive or not—I had to make sure you guys were safe, which you're clearly not and I don't know why—"
"Your story first," Linh demanded. "How did Fitz get shot?"
Maruca relayed everything her addled brain could recall, from Belisia's order to detour from the original plan to Jonathan and his ultimatum to the museum and the painting. By the end, only more confusion had set in everyone's eyes, so she expected it when nothing from Linh's side clarified anything either.
"It has to add up somehow," Linh muttered, pacing the room. Her brows were drawn tight like she was afraid of something, and Maruca was about to ask about it when Wylie and Lesedi stepped into the room.
"Mama!" cried Maruca, throwing her arms around her mother.
"We shouldn't delay," said Prentice, pulling them apart. "We need to leave before anyone can get hurt."
"No, Dad," Wylie said. He shared a look with Lesedi before reinforcing the statement with a shake of his head. "We have to defend Everfalls. It's... far more important than you might think."
Maruca threw her hands into the air. "What's that supposed to mean?!"
"It means this place is dangerous," Thapelo said. "Lesedi should go to Solreef."
Prentice nodded. "Go with her, and tell Tiergan about this. If we're going to fight the Purities, we'll need the Black Swan on our side."
____________________
"He needs to avoid this," Wylie said softly, eyes darting to see if anyone could overhear him. Finally, his gaze landed on his dad.
Maruca sighed. "Why are you telling me?"
"Because I can't tell anyone else—least of all him. He's not weak."
"Good, so he can help us! You can't protect your dad for the rest of your life, Wylie. He's recovered, he's capable, and he's willing to stand side by side with you in battle. Isn't that the best place for him?"
"The best place is locked in a closet," muttered her cousin. Then he sighed. "It's just... I know I shouldn't worry about him, and I know I'm the last person he'd want to do that. But every time I turn away, where I can't see him, suddenly I can't breathe. I always think of Mom, and then when he was gone... I know he's back, but it's like everyone expects things to be normal again, when they're not!"
Maruca placed a hand on his shoulder. "No one's saying things are normal. Least of all me or Mama or Papa or Tiergan or Tam and Linh. Things are, in fact, very weird. But I think Prentice wants to be happy... and hovering around him all the time isn't a part of that."
"I hate it when you get all wise on me. What happened to my little cousin? It's like you've grown or something." He tousled her hair, but she pushed his hand away. It was hard to be like this—acting like they were on an evening stroll rather than heading for Nhyonuitoufhoa to make a stand against the Purities. Not to mention a thousand miles away, Fitz was fighting for his life.
"We're here!" Prentice called, and his voice was so strong, despite everything. Maruca wanted to please him somehow, or do whatever he said. This was a leader she could follow—which made it that much harder to see where Wylie was coming from.
Linh craned her neck upward to capture the water arching over the crag and joining a pool at the bottom. The sun glinted off the Young Waterfall, warming Maruca in spite of her soggy feet.
"I can hear at least ten people's thoughts," said Prentice. "All in front of us."
Linh and Wylie took up defensive positions on Prentice's sides. Maruca moved to follow, but Wylie shook his head. "No. You need to form a force field around Nhyonuitoufhoa."
"What? But I can help! Who cares about a waterfall—I thought you were taking us here because it was a good battleground!"
"It's more than—" He was interrupted by a boom, and then Linh was bracing herself against the ground with the rippling shield of water she'd summoned as a buffer from the bullets.
"Hurry!" Wylie gasped, snapping a ball of bright blue light into his hands. He looked at his father. "Tell me where they are."
As Prentice guided Wylie's aim, Maruca scrambled to the base of the waterfall, getting as close as she dared before nursing a ball of energy. When she thought it was ready, she splayed out her fingers—but it only spiderwebbed out before sizzling back to a spark.
She cursed inwardly. Almost every day she'd come home to try to create a force field around Everfalls, and every day she'd failed. The way the energy reacted, she assumed it was because the environment was too moist—but it wasn't like water completely deterred Psionipaths. After all, Atlantis' walls had been made from the same ability.
So what was it about this water that negatively reacted with her force fields?
"Wylie, I need to know what Mama told you," Maruca said.
"No... time," Wylie panted, chucking another ball of light in the direction of the gunfire.
Linh whimpered. "I can't hold this for much longer!" The water wall was starting to wobble with her knees, and Prentice lurched to catch her before she tumbled to the ground.
"Just a little longer," he soothed.
"Make the force field, Maruca!" yelled Wylie.
"My ability won't work!" she screeched back, frantically rubbing her hands together in an effort to create friction. She didn't have time to form a field around Nhyonuitoufhoa, but maybe she could save her friends from the barrage of bullets.
"Work on the waterfall," Prentice barked at her, setting Linh down. He closed his eyes and stretched his hand out as if trying to touch something. "I'm going to plant false memories in their minds. That will confuse them for a second."
"You know how to do that?" Wylie asked. "On that many people? Are you sure it's safe?"
"They're humans, son; I can do it on them. Now when I tell you, Linh, release the water."
Maruca shifted her focus from her friends to Nhyonuitoufhoa, but still nothing happened. Prentice gave the order, and Linh let the water fall back down. A few moments passed, and then Maruca jerked to the side as something hard and hot scraped against her shoulder like a burning star. She grunted and caught herself on her knee.
"Maruca!" Wylie shouted.
"It only grazed me," she hissed, clenching mud in her fist as she waited for the pain to ebb. Linh scooted to her side and pressed water into the wound.
Maruca gritted her teeth. "Okay, stop. Save your energy for the fight."
"I don't have much energy left; this way I can help. Let me." She moved to do it again, but Maruca shook her head.
"No. I need you to take the water out of the ground."
"What?"
"The moisture." Maruca motioned to the rocks and grass surrounding Nhyonuitoufhoa. "Take the water out of the ground so I can place a force field there."
Linh took a deep breath and curled her fingers, lifting her hands upward, but only a thin stream of water was sucked from the earth. She released it with a loud exhale. "I'm sorry—I don't think I can do it."
"I can't hear their mental voices anymore," said Prentice, voice thick with the knowledge that something dangerous was impending upon them. The gunshots had stopped too—maybe the Purities realized it was useless to waste their ammo when faced with elves of their abilities.
"Do you think they've put on Thinking Caps?" wondered Linh. "Since they know how to use addlers, maybe they took some from their elvin supporters."
Prentice's mouth hardened. "If that's the case, then their next move is now unpredictable. They must have realized a Telepath planted those memories. Now they're reacting accordingly."
"Humans versus elves—it should be an easy win," Maruca said.
"Not when they've had this long to prepare," argued Wylie. "We surprised them by figuring out their plans sooner than expected, but they've also surprised us. We're not prepared for this." He and Linh shared a glance, but before Maruca could demand they explain it, Prentice pointed behind her shoulder.
"Over there... What is that?"
She turned, hand pressed against her arm to staunch the blood, and squinted. A speck of light twinkled in and out, growing slowly bigger. As it drew nearer, Maruca could make out a body behind it, running. They were shooting flames out of their fingertips.
"How...?" she muttered, taking a step closer. That was when the heat reached her face, and she registered what was happening.
A Purity—a human—could control fire.
The others looked just as shocked, but Linh was the first to react, drawing a small orb of water from the ground. She tried to stretch it out, but it became too thin to do anything.
Prentice swiveled to Wylie. "We run?"
Wylie's eyes darted from his father to the Purity, then to Nhyonuitoufhoa. "We can't let them get it." His voice was weak, as if already accepting defeat—but even though Maruca didn't know why the Young Waterfall was so important, she refused to back down now.
"Linh, Prentice, get behind me," she ordered. "Wylie, I may need your help."
Her cousin stepped up and helped her stand the rest of the way. "What are we doing?"
"I can't make a whole force field, but I can summon enough. With your light, maybe we can buy us some time."
"Time? For what?"
She didn't answer—didn't need to. Because just then, five figures leaped into the clearing. The one in the middle stepped forward, an eyebrow raised on his pudgy face.
"You kids," Mr. Forkle sighed. "Always getting yourself into trouble."