I was rooting for her, really. With her going to this much effort, the recent spell of frustration, and her needing to feel included, I wanted her to score a win doing what she was good at.

I looked skyward for a moment. Snow was falling, which wasn’t helping our efforts. High above, the barely visible clouds were clashing with one another. We weren’t even that close to any portals. I was glad to have the Wretch encapsulating me, keeping the worst of the wind off. It made the cold something more insidious and subtle, than a blast that left me drained.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. With gloves on, I fished it free. Spright with a meeting place.

I didn’t respond right away, holding the phone in both hands instead. My eyes scanned the terrain. If I were all business, I’d have said time was up, that we should give up and meet our allies.

I glanced over at the section of field where Sveta was tearing things up. Reaching, groping, finding a small tree to grab, or just standing herself up on some tendrils while reaching out with others. A herky-jerky progress across snow with grass and rocks jutting out from it.

I crossed two numb fingers, looked down to look at the snow below me and tried to tell holes from rocks and shadows.

We were making the Advance Guard guys wait, but some things were more important.

“Found it!” Rain called out.

The tendrils stopped the thousand-flag-grab attempt. There was only stillness, the dark tendrils invisible against a dark backdrop, the shape that was Sveta’s head too camouflaged and small to see.

Well. Rain needed some wins too.

I floated over to Sveta as she returned to her body, which was sitting on a rock, the front and back halves of her torso hanging apart, a gap marking the divide. I waited, quiet so that she wouldn’t be spooked and lash out, her coat folded over my arm.

Her arms and legs shifted slightly as she found grips on wires and the loop-pulls. The handles, for lack of a better word. She was still working her way back in when she looked up at me. “Sorry I yanked you. Did I hurt you?”

“No. Forcefield, not me.”

“Good,” she said. She pulled the two halves of her torso together, craning her head around to keep tendrils from getting pinched. Clasped could be heard from the inside, and then her prosthetic hands reached up to do up more mundane clasps on either side of the neck. “I was pretty sure. My head plays tricks on me sometimes, and I am just a bit numb.”

She eased her way to her feet, moving slowly, periodically thumping around in her body as she lashed out within the confines of the suit, and rearranged herself.

“It’s been a long day and a long night,” I said.