“That I sent every ounce of flame I could muster, and every bit of energy I could demand from the mother, into the building the shot had come from. It exploded into pieces so small, they were little more than dust, so I undoubtedly got the shooter.”

“But it’s the bastard who ordered the kill we want.”

“Exactly.” I uncrossed my legs and pushed upright. Just for an instant, the clearing spun around me, a warning that Rory wasn’t the only weak one right now. “And I thought you might like a piece of that particular action.”

“You thought right.” He looked around. “Where are we?”

“Trawool. Or just outside of it, anyway.”

He blinked. “Where the fuck is that?”

I smiled and held out my hands. “It’s about fourteen kilometers out of Seymour and just over an hour from Melbourne. Ready?”

His fingers gripped mine and, after a deep breath, he nodded. I hauled him upright; ash flew around the two of us, catching in my throat and making me cough. He hissed, and his fingers tightened briefly on mine as he gathered his balance.

“It never gets any easier,” he muttered.

“No.”

I held on to him and waited. After several more minutes, he nodded. I released one hand but shifted the other to his elbow. Just because he thought he was stable didn’t mean he actually was.

“I wasn’t able to drive the car into the clearing—there’re too many trees,” I said. “But it’s parked as close as I could get.”

“I’ll make it.” He took a determined step forward, paused unsteadily for a moment, and then took another. He very much resembled a toddler taking his first steps, and, in many ways, it was an apt image. The two of us might have spent more years alive than either of us cared to remember, but each rebirth came with the cost of major muscle groups remembering how to function again. Sometimes it was almost instant—as had happened this time when it came to speech and arm movement—and other times it could take days. Hell, the last time I’d been reborn, it had taken close to two weeks for full function to return to my legs.

When we finally reached the edge of the small clearing, I quickly redressed, then picked up the soft tunic, shaking the dirt and leaves from it before helping him into it. Right now, his skin was so new that it was also ultrasensitive. Anything too tight or scratchy would rub him raw.

It was only half a dozen steps from there to the rental car, but by the time he’d climbed into the back of the station wagon, he was shaking and bathed in sweat.