“No offense, but this doesn’t seem so grand.” Jyx waved her hand at the outpost outside the window with its squat, gray buildings.

“That’s because it’s so close to you,” Eione snapped.

“This outpost exists to keep an eye on Alorria, to try to predict when your people will cause the next storms,” Neela said. “We have advance warning now for the ten-year storms, thanks to a few conscientious Alorrians, but your everyday activities still cause a lot of damage to crops and homes. It’s our responsibility to try to predict upcoming changes to the weather patterns. Especially any killer storms.”

“When you say ‘cause’—” Jyx began.

“Yes, cause.” Eione cut her off. “Every time your beasts play with the weather, it messes with the world. You have any idea what it’s like to face a killer storm? No, of course, you don’t, because in Alorria you only have perfect summer days with mild wind and endless sunshine as you live your perfect, mild lives of endless selfishness.”

“Eione,” Neela warned. “They came as guests.”

“Yeah, guests who want to know.” Eione leaned forward. “Since you’re so curious, let me tell you what it’s like to face a beast-made storm. You hear the wind first, from a distance, and it sounds like the howl of a monster. Everything gets dark, even though it’s the middle of the day, and you see this . . . this . . . gray wall. It advances toward you, and you know if you don’t run, if you don’t hide, if you don’t take everything you know and love with you and bury it and yourself as deep down as you can get, it will all be flattened and then swept away.”

Mina and her friends didn’t move or speak. Motionless, they stared at Eione.

“And then—​bam!” Eione slapped her hands together, and all of them jumped. “It hits. And you think the sky has fallen and all the stars have collapsed to the ground. Everything shakes. Everything screams. And you can’t even tell if you’re screaming because it’s all so loud. And that’s when you realize the earth is being pulled apart and the rivers are rising and the mountains are crumbling, and you can do nothing—​absolutely nothing—​to stop it, except hope that your storm bunker is sealed well enough that it doesn’t flood and built strong enough that it doesn’t collapse. Because if it’s not, you’ll die.”

Neela had stopped pouring tea. She, too, was listening to Eione, but Mina saw there was no surprise on her face. There was only a resigned kind of sadness. I don’t think she’s exaggerating, Mina thought at Pixit.

«I think I’m going to have nightmares.»