The other blade still in his hand, he threw it out, with the blade only traveling a matter of feet before it crossed through his uncle’s midsection, the vertical and horizontal lines of the plaid work shirt illuminated in the gloom.

“Stop,” Rain said, again. “Or you’ll die.”

His uncle looked down, spreading his hands.

Then, his expression changing, the man looked skyward, sighing. Rain took the twelve seconds of rest to try to gather his thoughts, not looking skyward, but toward the ground. He—

Heedless of the mark, his uncle kicked him. The force was such that the silver mark flared, and it cut what lay beneath.

Again and again, the man kicked Rain. He stomped once, as Rain lay too close to the ground to be properly kicked.

“I think he learned whatever it is you wanted to teach him,” Rain’s aunt said. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make you tea, and I’ll look over those scratches.”

Rain waited, knowing that if his uncle decided to ignore the order, there would only be more pain. Pain that could kill him, if it meant he wasn’t able to fight back when Snag, Cradle, and Love Lost came for his head.

Instead, fabric draped over Rain’s head.

“Replace it,” his uncle said. Perhaps the eleventh and twelfth words Rain had ever heard the man say to him.

Rain reached up and pulled the fabric away. The plaid shirt. Sliced across the middle. His uncle was fine, because—

Because, Rain realized, closing his eyes, the power only affected one thing at a time. It would hit clothes first, the person second.

He opened his eyes to watch as his uncle walked away, wearing an undershirt and jeans, opening the door to the kitchen and closing it behind him, the light in the fenced-in yard diminishing with the door closed.

Rain lay there, trying to breathe, hurting from head to toe.

“Dad doesn’t even have powers,” Allie said, from the other side of the fence.

Rain winced, realizing she’d seen. She was still there.

“You did better when you weren’t using your powers,” his cousin said. She paused. “You okay?”

Rain’s nose felt stuffed, every heartbeat making his entire nasal cavity pound. He snorted, hard, and pain ripped through his skull, blood spraying the grass in front of his face. He huffed out a breath.

“I’m—” he started. “Fine.”

He was going to die. Not here, not because of this. But he was going to die.

“I’m not sure what you were expecting,” Allie said. “Dad is the kind of guy who thought he’d teach five-year-old me how to swim by throwing me into a pond. I think this is him applying that same principle to teaching you to fight.”

Rain huffed out a breath. His ribs hurt like hell, but—

He drew in a deep breath, winced at the pain.