She shook her head. “Only if it makes sense. I’m just putting it out there. We know she’s split off from the larger group.”

“The problem is that March never makes sense,” Rachel muttered. She was at the back of the group. Chastity was walking beside Rachel’s henchman, who was sitting on a jutting outcropping of bone at the dog’s shoulder, one hand on its side to help her maintain balance.

“Foil,” I said. “What’s March’s fixation on these time effects? I’m trying to wrap my head around all of this.”

Give me something I can break down.

“I don’t know.”

“She has enhanced timing as a power, but I don’t think that factors in. What’s driving her? What’s the focus?”

“She wants to wrap Foil’s skin around a rocking horse and ride it all day long,” Aroa said.

“Ew, weird, and no, I don’t know. I’m a focus but time effects have nothing to do with me.”

“Multitriggers,” Precipice said. “She collects them.”

“Why?” I pressed.

“Because I think she gets them. She understands it, she’s good at finding us out in the wild, she’s good at figuring out weird, wild shit like the power transfers. The Goddess thing.”

“Because of her power, somehow, or—”

Foil shook her head.

We headed back, flying, jogging, or, in Rachel and her henchman’s case, hopping up so they hung onto the side of dogs with one hand while the dogs did the work of padding through snow and over ice.

Chastity had a suggestion, “Natural inclination. Some people are good at music, and they were going to be people who were good at making music before they even picked up an instrument or sang a note.”

“Maybe that,” Foil said. “Maybe she’s been focusing on that stuff while I was getting started as a Ward, getting my gear, doing patrols.”

“Do you know anything about her? Do you get insights through any special… dynamics?” Precipice asked.

Foil shook her head.

“Bleed-through?” he pressed. “Emotions leaking from one person to the other?”

“Terrifying idea, but I don’t think so. Unless—”

She finished her statement there.

“Unlessss?” Candy asked, drawing out the word.

“It’s nothing that would be helpful.”

“She’s a thinker primary,” I said.

Precipice nodded. “Like I’m a blaster primary, it’s the strongest of my powers, and Foil is—”

“Striker, technically,” Foil volunteered. “Not that the otherworldly things that put these powers in us really categorized everything so neatly.”

We had to get up a hill to get back toward the parking lot.

I continued to find my refuge in geekery. “March’s a thinker first. Mental powers come from mental triggers. Powers that grant skill, perception, information, they tend to stem from self-centric things. Dilemmas, complexes, obsessions, delusions. Can I ask what the circumstances were around your trigger?”

Foil jogged at a light pace, considering.