Ash stumbled onto the training field five minutes late while still struggling to pull Gunner's dagger into her ponytail. She hadn't slept well. Her dreams had been filled with blinding flashes of white light and heat cascading over her body like a blanket made from hot nails. And just when she thought that was over, she found herself in a room full of clocks and cats and clocks-in-the-shape-of-cats, their 'faces' and eyes staring down at her from all four walls.

She might've been tired, but her force had never felt so stable. It was as though, by channeling it through Eli and sharing his pain, it had made her realise she wasn't alone. That someone else had experienced just as much horror in their life. And that, in itself, seemed to be enough.

Eli had already commenced their battle training, and made no indication of noticing her late arrival. The whole of Phoenix House was present—all twenty of them—and they'd been put into groups based on their ability levels. Each group worked on developing their own combat technique using their force, which they then shared with the other groups. The older members talked strategy and drew complex diagrams in the dirt—formations they'd read in books. One woman came up a plan to use the river to keep distance between them and soldiers on foot. This led to a conversation about the topography of the island and how they could use it to their best advantage.

Gus and his friends practiced their sparring with wooden staves tipped at both ends with fire. Ollie, Apple and Jacob designed and made catapults that could fling hot rocks and debris much further than anyone could throw. Since nobody but Eli knew about Ash's abilities with fire, she was put in a group with the children of the Phoenix mothers, who were yet to see if they'd been born with a force. They tested out diversion tactics using smoke screens and fake heat glamours, just incase the Establishment came in the night wearing infrared glasses.

By lunchtime, a growing sense of apprehension pervaded the mood. Eli called a short break for lunch, but nobody seemed hungry. They lingered on the field, turning over strategies and shaking their heads. Ash overheard a woman muttering something about firearms and how she couldn't see how they could defend themselves against modern weaponry. Another man brought up the point that they would be severely outnumbered and that the Establishment would come prepared, with heat-proof clothing and equipment.

Ollie was the first to say what they were all thinking. "How's any of this going to help? They have numbers, and they have the technology. If we fight back, we'll be digging our own graves."

Eli stepped forward. "Remember what Oroton said? They don't want to kill us. They just want to incapacitate and capture us. Take us in as research subjects until they can figure out how to manufacture our abilities."

"Define incapacitate," Ollie said, snorting.

Jacob pushed his glasses up his nose. "Shouldn't we be considering a defence against their weapons? They don't need all of us for 'research purposes'." He made quotations around the last words. "So what's stopping them from capturing a few and killing the rest?"

"Ollie's right," Gus said. "We've got no chance against them. Especially at close range. And —"

Eli cut him off. "There's no need to panic. They're not going to kill us. And we won't let them get near us."

Gus got a defiant flash in his eye and he folded his arms. For a moment, Ash thought he would say something more, but he just stood there, glaring. The rest of the Wanderers looked from one leader to the other, sensing the rising tension. Ash swiped her brow, which was becoming clammy under the mid-day sun. Their situation was bad enough without their leaders fighting.

She raked her mind for ideas and was struck by one almost immediately. It came to her with newfound clarity now that her mind was no longer burdened by swirling emotions as it had been the day before. The idea originated from a day at the orphanage she remembered vividly. She'd been in the orphanage yard with her brother, washing windows with an old rag when a boy who was notorious for having rage meltdowns went on a rampage and started flinging throwing rocks at anyone who so much as looked at him. One rock flew at Jai's forehead, and would've hit him between the eyes had Ash not deflected the rock by swiping at it with the old rag in her hand.

"Why can't we make some chains," she head herself saying. "Like the ones they use for fire-twirling. If we strengthen them with our force and spin them fast enough, we could use them to deflect bullets."

Eli stared at her as though she'd just grown a second head. "It won't work. Do you know how fast bullets travel? And no metal is thatstrong."

Ash barely resisted smacking her own forehead. It sounded far-fetched now that she thought about it.

Gus spoke then, "I think Sprout could be onto something."

Ash cringed. She'd been trying to diffuse their argument, not fuel it.

Jacob stepped forward too. "I think it could work too," he said, which was a surprise since he hadn't said much at all lately.

Eli frowned. "On what grounds?"

"Has anyone heard the tale of the Vengeful Mistress?" Jacob said.

Apple rolled her eyes. "Of course."

Ash shook her head. "I haven't."

Jacob turned to Ash. "The tale goes like this: There was a man who had a wife and a mistress. For years, he managed to juggle the two without any trouble. But as time wore on, his mistress became jealous, demanding that he leave his wife and give himself completely to her. Despite his infidelity, the man loved his wife, and would rather have seen his mistress gone. So, he tried to end their relationship.

"Of course, the mistress wouldn't have it. She threatened to expose him to everyone he loved, including his children. So the man decided he had no choice but to kill her. He saw a witch doctor who gave him a potion to slip into his mistress' drink. But, when the mistress drank this potion, it reacted to a rare genetic condition she had and instead of killing her, her hair became pewter, like Medusa's snakes and attacked anyone who threatened to harm her.

"She went on a vengeance streak, killing her lover's wife and children and all those who'd ever done her wrong. Some fought for their lives, using rocks, arrows and bullets, but her long whipping braids could deflect anything. Eventually, her hair grew so long that she had no choice but to cut it. But, as soon as she brought the pliers near, her hair turned against her, killing her in one fell swipe. As she died, her hair died with her."

"Lovely," Apple said.

Eli shook his head. "That's a tale, Jacob," he said. "A story. It's not going to help with our situation."

"None of what we do should be possible," Jacob countered. "I think Ash's idea might work."

Once again, Ash couldn't get over the change in Jacob—she'd never seen him so much as stand up for himself, let alone argue with the opinion of their leader.

For a second, Eli's poker straight face rose in surprise before folding back to into complacency. "If you think it'll work, I won't stop you from trying it. But if you get hurt..." He gave Jacob a pointed look before turning his focus to the group of strategists on the ground—the only group who hadn't stopped what they were doing to watch the discussion unfold.

Ash grimaced. Eli was right. Her idea was stupid. Despite Jacob's story about the Vengeful Mistress, there was nothing plausible about it. And yet, she still had the overwhelming feeling that it could work.

She shook her head. Didn't matter. No one was crazy enough to give it a try.

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*~*

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