It was only a temporary solution, and Rosalyn watched Piero scuttle back against the wall, tangling himself in the cords he had pulled from the Brigantine. His legs shot out in front of him as he reached with his better arm for the knife in his back.

It wasn’t enough. She had to finish him off. Fight back. Maybe Tuva was watching somehow, lending her strength. Rosalyn crawled weakly onto all fours, blearily finding she was not the only one fighting for her life. The blur above her head. The sounds of rushing water. Rayan. Foxfire would have their ambush after all, taking a page from her slapdash handbook, their second piece on the board arriving with a fire extinguisher, filling up the observation room with blinding white foam.

30

They were both moving to help Rosalyn when Rayan appeared, announcing his arrival with a blast from a fire extinguisher. His timing couldn’t have been worse. A wall of white mist separated him from Rosalyn, but he saw Misato fight through it, screaming, her shiv raised high and ready to strike.

He lost track of her in the foam gouts that came one after another. Judging from their direction, Rayan was trying to protect Piero, who was struggling somewhere against the wall. Panting, Edison wiped at his face, shielding his eyes, peering into the disorienting fog long enough to see Misato slide toward Piero, jabbing her makeshift sword into his chest, pinning him to the wall. They both made horrible sounds—she an anguished cry and he a wet gurgle. Froth bubbled and spilled from his mouth like a secret. Rayan laid on the fire extinguisher again, leaping over Rosalyn to smash the heavy butt end of the extinguisher against the back of Misato’s head. She went down hard, landing in a heap at Piero’s feet.

It was then that Rayan turned his attention to Edison, charging him, brandishing the extinguisher canister like a battering ram. Edison planted his feet loosely, dodging, pivoting to use the man’s momentum against him, just as Piero had done to JAX. It worked, but only for a moment. Rayan spun to meet him, slipping a little on the extinguisher residue covering the floor but not enough to lose his footing. There was no telling if Rosalyn was in a state to help him; Edison was on his own.

He lifted his arm just in time to block a close-range blast, his arm aching with the sudden freezing cold of the powder. Coughing, he gasped, the spray leaving him breathless. Rayan swung the canister, missed, then brought it back on the rebound, managing to clip Edison’s shoulder. The kid’s eyes were white, furious, his expression alarmingly blank, as if he had no idea that he was in the middle of bludgeoning his own captain.