My dad patted my leg, at a spot where it wasn’t injured. I checked, then floated down at more of a level with the rest, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to him. I got a nod.

“That will be an interesting line to find, since there’s a flier after us,” Harbinger One said, pointing.

Barfbat.

“Can we?” he asked. “We’ll bring him down gently.”

I shut my eyes a second. “Don’t be gentle.”

He tilted his head to one side.

“He regenerates. Healed a bullet wound in five seconds. It’ll take more to stop him.”

The Harbinger pair ducked away, heading across the ditch to a hill where presumably they’d do their shooting.

My voice was low. “Brandish? Stop sniping, stop throwing barbs, stop getting jealous, whatever it is that’s motivating you.”

“I’m volunteering my services and I get lectured?” she asked, voice arch.

“Fuck off,” I said, with emphasis. I glared at her, and she looked away. I turned my attention the other direction, to the front flank of the group. “Sveta?”

“Time to yell at me?”

“If I say to get clear, listen. I don’t want to have to kamikaze rush you to get you to get out of terminal danger.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Good control earlier, good job getting people clear. You got Tattletale?”

“I have her,” Rachel said, loud and brusque at the same time Sveta meekly said, “I did.”

“How is she?”

“Hurt,” was Tattletale’s faint voice.

“Hurt,” Rachel said.

“Okay,” I said. The settlement was in sight now. I checked back. No Barfbat, and Harbingers were returning to our group. Cradle’s group lagged behind—I could see the light of flashlights through the trees, but no followers. Byron’s lights loomed well behind us, ready to spray them and the road if they tried to take the easy road. “Capricorn? You stopped switching.”

“My brother asked me not to, unless it was an emergency. Pain’s getting to be too much to focus, and he’s worried he’ll pass out.”

“Got it,” I said.

Too many little things. There were probably other things I needed to hammer out. Probably things that others needed to shout at me.

“Speaking of focus, I’m worried about Precipice,” Byron said.

“Me?”

“He’s not acting like himself.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re using more emotion power than ever. Is there a feedback loop? A backlash for overuse? I don’t know how these things work.”

“No,” was the reedy answer. Tattletale.

I flew through the group to the head of the pack.

“No?” I asked.

“I need more information to give you a better answer, but not a backlash. That would taper off after using the power, even a little. This is… longer lasting.”

I glanced back at Rain. There was something wrong?

“Because we woke him up early?”

“From?” Tattletale asked.