I noted the moment when Paris’s group stopped, Paris touching Vulturehawk’s shoulder to get his attention, making sure he stayed with the others. As part of that same check to make sure his group was organized, he turned to make sure Thud wasn’t falling behind. The chess-piece Cauldron deviant was slow, heavy.

Turning my head, I could see why they’d signaled the stop. Bluestocking stood on the road, a hump of dirt that had been sifted of stones, flattened and packed down.

I saw Bitter Pill, with Crested beside her, and I saw Bird Brain. Bird Brain held a rifle. I didn’t see any of Bird Brain’s funny head movement, but I knew it was in the cards.

“You okay, Et?” Bluestocking asked.

“They have—” Etna grunted out the words, throat tensing and jerking. “Phone.”

“Your phone. Did you do something stupid like have both personal and cape business on one device?”

“Mm,” Etna grunted in the affirmative.

“That’s stupid,” Bluestocking said, to Etna. To me, she said, “There are rules.”

“This group was the group that cut the Navigators to pieces and left them like that. Undying and in agony,” I said. “Pleasantries go out the window when you cross lines like that.”

“Not Etna.”

“Aiding and abetting that same group,” I said.

“You played your part in this. Raising the stakes,” Bluestocking said. We’d ticked her off when we’d last crossed paths. She’d been breaking Etna and Crested out of jail, and we’d blocked her, forced her to shell out money, some limited information, and give medical care to the people they’d hurt. Now I supposed she thought she had her revenge.

I shook my head. “The stakes were always going to be raised. There was—”

Prancer cleared his throat.

“What?” I asked.

“You asked me to negotiate.”

I closed my mouth, eyeing Paris’s group. They were most likely to spontaneously attack, especially considering we were closer to the villains and hemmed in on the sides by the planted traps.

Traps we could deal with, but…

At the far side of the road, Byron and Chastity were sitting together, both visible. Chastity had been disarmed, and Byron had Birdbrain’s rifle trained on him. I could see the glow of my mother’s orb. She’d retreated into that form.

Because they traveled over the orb, I realized there were still red electricity crackles dancing intermittently through the area.

I checked the phone.

No, the traps were a little more complicated.

“Remember that thing we talked about, Moose?”

“I remember,” Moose said.

“Being sneaky, Prancer?” Bluestocking asked.

“Nah,” Prancer said. “Trying to figure out how to help you.”

“We don’t need help.”