His anger faded, and for a brief second Caledonia glimpsed what lay behind it: fear, sadness, and an overwhelming sense of futility. Surrender had become such a way of life for these people that it was possible they didn’t remember any other way.

“Would you have?” she asked.

The man’s anger returned in a flash. “The only way to survive in this world is to play by his rules. And we are here to survive.”

“I’m made for more than surviving.”

“And what’s that?” he snapped.

It was Oran’s voice she heard when she answered, “Fighting back.”

The man grimaced. Nodded. Let his lips fall into a strangled smile. “That’s a good way to die, young one. I’d prefer not to be the reason it happens, but I’ll choose our children over everything.”

The man gestured to his people, and they vanished inside the smoldering wood. His message was clear: if the Blades stayed here, they were dead.

Camp was finally quiet.

In the hours following the departure of the colonists, they’d catalogued the extent of the damage. Three of their number had died in the attack, and many of their supplies were destroyed. The mood was somber as the Blades tended to their wounded, dismantled what remained of camp, and swept away all traces of their home. Caledonia helped where she was welcome, but it was hard for anyone to ignore the fact that her actions had led to this moment.

She played her conversation with the colonist over and over again in her mind. Her initial shock was long gone, and now she was just angry. It was the kind of anger that felt good, or at least better than whatever waited just beneath. She was angry that the colonists were so thoroughly subdued they would turn on the Blades a second time, angry that they were so committed to keeping Aric happy, and angry at what it all meant. After all this, her mother had been right. The only chance they had at a life not spent running was on the other side of the Net. For now, though, the Blades simply had to move.

As soon as the wounded were on their feet, they would head into the hills and regroup where the colonists didn’t have an immediate read on their location. It was a temporary solution to a very permanent problem, and Caledonia couldn’t shake the feeling that it was ultimately a mistake.

Caledonia waited until Sledge was alone. He crouched by his own pack, testing the bindings and weight one last time. Across his back the black scabbard of his sheathed sword caught the fiery glow of the late afternoon sun.

“Sledge.” Caledonia noted the new tension in his jaw at the sound of her voice. “May I speak with you?”

“We need to move, Caledonia.” He was tired, sad even. And still so desperate to get his people to safety.