“Good,” said a weak voice. “I hoped that would work.”

Gyre sat up, ignoring the pounding in his head. Maya lay on her side across from him, propped on one elbow. The silver sword was on the ground behind her, trailing a slick of crimson. She’d wound a strip of cloth around her middle, but blood was already soaking through. As he watched, her arm gave way, and he lunged forward to catch her before her head hit the stone. He lowered her to the ground gently, and she smiled up at him.

“What are you so upset about, big brother?” she said. “You were trying to kill me a minute ago.”

Gyre’s throat felt like it had swollen shut. A sob wracked him, doubling him over, and tears ran down his cheeks and dripped off his chin onto Maya’s forehead. She brought one hand up to wipe them away, the other pressed against the wound in her stomach.

“Gyre,” she said. “Gyre, please. Listen to me.” When he swallowed hard and looked down at her again, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue at him. He saw the chewed mess of a couple of waxy quickheal tablets. “Emergency supplies. Should be enough to stop the bleeding. Beq has other things. I’m not going to die.” She swallowed, and for a moment her brave smile faltered. “Probably. Maybe.” Maya hesitated. “Unless you kill me.”

“I can’t,” Gyre said. “You know I can’t. You’re …” His throat felt choked again, this time with everything he wanted to say, as though it were all trying to escape at once. “My little sister.”

“You have to stop them.” Maya turned to look at the huge shape of Leviathan. “That woman, and whoever else is up there. You can’t let them use that thing.”

“I …” Gyre paused, looking down at her, and found himself smiling. “That’s not fair.”

“I know you hate us. The Order. The Republic. And we’re … not perfect.” Maya turned back to him. “But the answer can’t be to destroy what little humanity has left. You have to see that. Whatever you believe about us, there has to be a better way.” She swallowed and looked pained. “That kind of power … is best left sleeping.”

“It may be too late,” Gyre muttered.

“Try. Please.” Maya closed her eyes. “I think … I’m going … to pass out now. Beq is … at the bottom of the tunnel. Call to her. She’ll … help us. You …” She let out a shuddering breath. “You know what you need to do.”

“I …” Gyre shook his head. “Maya?”

She didn’t respond. Heart pounding, he bent over to check her breathing and found it shallow but steady.