209 A.B.

(6 months after the Runner's Rebellion)

"How is she?" I ask.

Meg sighs, communicating a million cares and worries with a single breath. "Not well." She admits. "She won't eat, won't speak. She's barely moved a muscle since we returned from Babel. I've never seen her this way." She runs a hand through her hair. "I only just managed to convince her to let Cade see to her wounds. He and Noah are with her, now."

I extend an arm and Megra moves to sit by me, nestling against my shoulder as I plant a kiss on her white-blonde head.

"Kay will be all right." I tell her. "She just needs time, that is all. Time eases all wounds."

Megra does not respond immediately. I glance about the roughshod tent, at the canvas walls fluttering in the desert breeze. This is a rare instance of peace, a stolen moment of privacy shared between a Queen and a Chieftain. Duty will soon demand that we return to the fray, back into our roles as leaders and decision-makers. With Babel's wall demolished and countless prisoners released, our people will clamber for guidance.

Let them wait a while longer.

My thoughts drift to the Runner, to the sounds of her screams as the Commander received the fatal injection. To watch helplessly as someone you love is killed...I shudder at the thought and draw Megra closer.

She cranes her neck to look up at me and I feel my chest give an unconscious lurch. Seeing my strong, willful Queen so heartbroken is a torture unto itself. My years of bloodshed and battle should have left me hardened to the sight of human suffering, but a certain pair of blue eyes has the power to inflict more damage than the point of the sharpest sword.

"I wish that there was something I could do to help her." Megra's voice is heavy with a world-weariness that belies her years. "Kay has been through so much, already."

I nod, not really understanding. Tales of the Runner's exploits have reached my ears in the form of rumours and gossip, passed across bonfires and whispered amongst my warriors. Undoubtedly, the events at Babel will push the Runner's story from fact into the annals of legend. Despite having witnessed some of Kay's famous deeds first-hand, I still find myself struggling to know her. I will admit that until I heard those wretched screams tear from her throat, I did not think that she possessed traits as human as pain or fear.

The combination of Megra's worrying and my youngest brother's ever-growing attachment to a reckless girl has set my alarm bells ringing. There is no doubt in my mind that Kay is marked for catastrophe and now, with the Commander's murder on her shoulders, her path to destruction is almost assured. When that happens, two of the people I love most in this world will feel the sting.

"She and the Commander loved each other very much." I state the fact simply, hoping to glean some more information about this ticking time bomb.

Megra nods. "They did, but their relationship was disastrous from the very beginning. Will wanted Kay to be someone she wasn't, and Kay lost herself in trying to protect him." She shrugs her narrow shoulders. "They were like minded to a fault, neither one of them willing to give an inch."

"Did you say so to her?"

"Gods, no. You can't tell Kay anything." Megra releases a sad little laugh. "Who knows, though. Perhaps if they were given enough time, they could have made it work."

I long to voice my concerns but sense that this is not the right moment; Megra is already hurting enough on behalf of her friend. Time may have run its course for Kay and Will, but it exists, still for Megra and I.

"In a way, Kay is fortunate." I tell her. "You carry the burdens of an entire society, but you still show special concern for her. She is not lost, because she has you."

I smile at the way she hides the colour in her pale cheeks with her hands.

"You mustn't do that." She says.

"Do what?"

"Flatter me so much." She pulls her hands away from her face and adopts a stern look. "A good Queen must remain humble. You're trying to ruin me."

"In more ways than one." I chuckle and waggle my eyebrows at her suggestively.

That finally earns a laugh. I hook a finger under her chin and tilt her lips up to meet mine. She fairly melts against me and I feel myself stir in response, my every sense attuned to her presence. The heightened awareness that comes after battle hums through me, reminding me of life's temporary nature. I force myself to hold Megra carefully, mindful that my oversized frame dwarfs her regal stature.

She draws back and stares at me, eyes wide and shining. I brush an invisible strand of hair from her cheek, tracing the soft skin, there. We remain that way for several moments, adrift in our own thoughts as the sounds of camp filter in through the tent walls. Shouts of victory and celebration ebb over us; noises that should be music to a leader's ears.

But the troubled expression never leaves Megra's face.

"What can I do to help?" I ask.

"Can you bring people back from the dead?" She makes a half-hearted attempt at a joke, turning away and wiping her eye discreetly. I leave my hand on her waist, waiting for her to compose herself.

She draws a shaky breath, straightening her shoulders and looking back at me.

"Kay is going to demand that we raise an army and go after the Madam." Megra predicts, warily. "She won't be satisfied until she's avenged Will."

"The Madam deserves death. Kay is not wrong."

"I thought you'd say that." She nods. "Most of my people will share the same sentiment. There is going to be a war."

I choose my words carefully. "These are violent times. Peace comes at a price." I tug playfully on the end of her braid. "But that does not mean that you should stop striving for it."

The hint of a smile plays on her lips. "The longer I am Queen, the further we seem to get from peace."

"That is not true." I tell her. "You managed to broker a treaty with the Wasters, despite the legendary fierceness of their Chieftain."

"His ferocity was largely exaggerated." She trails a finger down my chest. "In any case, I doubt either side will support a negotiation."

"Likely not." I agree, fighting to focus on the topic.

"There is, in fact, something that you can do to help." She sits back so that she is looking at me fully.

"Name it."

"I need you to watch over Kay." She blurts. "I know it's asking a lot and that there's only so much you can do, but I can't be on the battlefield and I know that she's going to be in the thick of it and I just worry..."

I silence her nervous chatter with another kiss.

"Of course, I will do what I can to protect her." I tell her. "You need not ask, I would look out for Kay like she was my own sister."

Megra visibly relaxes, the line between her brows finally clearing. "Thank you."

"It is nothing." I pull her to me. "You know that you could demand anything of me and I would do it, without question."

She opens her mouth to say something when we are interrupted by shouts and the sound of a commotion occurring outside the tent. Megra immediately springs to her feet and disappears through the canvas flaps. I follow close behind, trailing the Queen as she shoulders her way into the centre of the gawking crowd. The shouts increase in fervor and I catch sight of Kay, her red hair flying wildly around her head as she throws herself repeatedly at a Babelonian girl. Luca and Noah are visibly struggling to hold the Runner back but she seems completely oblivious to their presence, utterly possessed by an all-consuming rage.

The throng steps aside to clear a path for Megra as she moves to place herself between Kay and the Babelonian girl. Megra murmurs softly, placing her hands on Kay's flushed cheeks and forcing the Runner's eyes into hers. Gradually, Kay ceases her struggling and her shoulders slump. Luca releases his grip on her and the crowd disperses, averting their eyes respectfully.

Luca steps up next to me and I clap a heavy hand down on his shoulder, steering him and Noah away from the women and towards the bonfire. Luca glances once over his shoulder and I do not miss the expression crossing his dark features. A jolt of warning hums through me, once again.

I made a promise to my Queen that I would protect Kay, and I have every intention of upholding my word.

But my first duty is to my brother.

I need to protect him from the Runner.

* * * * *

The next day I arise well before the sun, slipping free of Megra's tent and making my way further into the camp. At this hour, the narrow passageways are all but abandoned. Most everyone is still sleeping off the previous days' celebrations, snoring away contentedly behind their canvas walls.

I knock the arm of my bow against Luca and Noah's tent, kicking it solidly for good measure. Inaudible groans and the sound of rustling bedclothes stem from inside. I wait a full minute, stretching my arms and revelling in the cool morning breeze before grabbing a fistful of canvas and shaking the tent violently.

"All right, all right." Noah grumbles and pushes through the flaps, followed by a messy-haired and bleary-eyed Luca. "Gods, what is the hour?"

"Grab your bows." I instruct, spinning on my heel. "We are going hunting."

We leave the camp at our backs, heading further into the Wastelands as the sun begins to make its appearance. I keep our pace to a slow amble, mindful that Noah is still recovering from his time spent belowground. Our footsteps are silent and I find myself relaxing into our old ritual. I look to Noah, smiling at the way he glances about our surroundings in wide-eyed wonder.

Luca leads us to a flattened patch of landscape dotted with rocks and dried shrubbery. We take refuge at the base of a long-dead tree, slinging our bows out from under our shoulders and sinking down into seated positions on the soft sand.

I uncork a bladder of water and pass it to Noah, who drinks greedily. Luca draws out his arrows and begins inspecting the points one by one, testing each sharpened tip with his thumb. I lean back across the rough bark of the tree, watching my brothers' familiar actions. How many times have we repeated this early morning routine? Until Noah was taken, I did not realize just how much I prized the time we spend together.

"Have you got something on your mind, brother?" Noah lowers the cask of water and runs his wrist across his mouth. He passes the drink to Luca who accepts it wordlessly, his attention seemingly diverted towards the scattered foliage. I know better; Luca misses nothing.

"My mind is always filled." I reply. "That is the nature of Chiefhood."

Noah rolls his eyes and Luca smirks, betraying the fact that he is listening.

"It is heartwarming to see that Jaron's ego has not suffered in my absence." Noah remarks drily.

"A result of exercising it daily." Luca replies, prompting a hearty laugh from Noah.

I feign contempt. "This is insubordination, I should have your heads. And lower your voices, will you? You are scaring off all the game."

"Sorry to undermine you, Chief Jaron." Noah snorts. "But you will always be our oafish brother first, and a chief second. The tribe may be ten times larger than it was when I last saw it, but Luca and I still retain the right to knock you down a peg."

"Duly noted." The grin slips from my lips as I look from Noah to my youngest brother. "There is, in fact, something that I wish to discuss with Luca."

Luca glances up, his dark brows drawing together. "What is it?"

"It is about the Runner." I do not mince words.

Luca's brow furrows further and he straightens, giving me his full attention. "What about her?"

"I think that you should keep your distance from her." I say, carefully. "She is dangerous, Luca. Anyone can see that."

"Kay is not dangerous." Luca bristles. "She saved all of those people in Babel. She saved Noah."

"A person can have good intentions and still be a menace." I point out. "You must use your head, Luca. You saw the way those mechanical soldiers gunned for her, how the Madam singled her out. Kay seeks trouble and continually pays the price for it."

"You know nothing about her."

"Neither do you." I shoot back. "How are we to separate what is real from what is fiction? All I can go off of is what I have seen, and what I have seen is a reckless, violent girl. She is unpredictable and places those closest to her in danger. You saw what happened to the Commander."

Luca freezes, his expression unreadable. "I am not Will."

"And you never will be." I lean forward, demanding his full attention. "You cannot be what he was to her, Luca. You would be a fool to try."

"Who says that I am trying anything?" Luca springs onto his feet and I follow suit. "All I have done is watch out for Kay, the same as she has done for me. I trust her." Rage clouds his features. "You always assume the worst of me. I am not weak."

"Brothers, wait." Noah places his hand on my shoulder, looking to Luca. "Do not fight, today."

I ignore him. "Do you think I am blind, Luca? I have seen you watching her. When she needs something, you are always there. I know what that is."

"You think that because you can be so easily manipulated by a woman, that I am the same." Luca's eyes flash. "Did the Queen put you up to this?"

Rage sparks in my chest. "You will not speak to me of Megra."

"I will speak to you however I choose."

"Luca, Jaron, enough." Noah inserts himself firmly between us. "This is not how we treat one another."

"This is how he has always treated me." Luca glares at me over Noah's shoulder. "Like I am some naive child."

"No one thinks that you are naive." Noah assures him. "Our oafish brother is just doing a very poor job of voicing his concerns. I hate to say so, Luca, but I believe Jaron has a point."

Luca's sharp eyes flick to Noah, widening disbelievingly. "You are taking his side?"

"I am on no one's side." Noah says, gently. "I admire Kay, also. I owe her my life. I just think..." He trails off, considering his words carefully. "...I think that she is unstable, Luca. I do not know her the way you do, but I have seen what she is capable of and to be frank..." He meets Luca's gaze levelly. "She scares the shit from me."

Luca takes a step back, betrayal written clearly across his features. "I do not need to listen to this, I have done nothing wrong. Kay has been a friend to me and I care about her. That is all that exists between us."

"That is all it takes." I point out, thinking back to Megra's heartbroken expression. "Attach yourself to that girl and you will regret it. Trust me."

"Luca," Noah cuts in before Luca can fire a retort. "You did not see the Runner down in the Irrigator, but I was there. She hallucinated and slaughtered a soldier without being aware of what she was doing, then massacred three more after realizing what happened. If the Commander was not there to bring her around, she might have got us all killed."

A high colour has risen to Luca's face. He stands stock still, clenching and unclenching his fists as his eyes dart between Noah and I.

"The two of you could not be any more judgemental. You have no idea what Kay has already withstood." Luca's voice is a low. "Just last night, Jaron, you called her family. If this is how you treat your family, then you had better hope that you make a better Chief than a brother."

"Luca..." I move to stop him but he yanks his arm free and storms past us, pausing briefly to scoop up his bow and quiver before jogging away.

I release a groan of frustration and run a hand through my gnarled hair.

"Why can he not listen to reason?" I growl. "Luca's stubbornness makes him blind."

"Well, you were not exactly tactful, Jaron." Noah collapses back into a seated position. "You just yelled at him for having feelings for a girl, how did you expect him to react?"

I sigh, sinking down next to him. "I do not know. He has grown so much these past months, I thought he might listen to what I have to say, for once."

Noah is silent for a long time. He digs his hands into the sand beneath us, watching disinterestedly as the grains cascade between his fingers.

"Perhaps Luca is right." He says, almost to himself. "It is not as though any of us are innocent. I am willing to wager that if you met Rowan without knowing her first, that you would have shouted at me."

At the mention of Rowan something tugs within me. I glance up at Noah, but he keeps his gaze firmly rooted on the falling sand.

"Rowan was different." I say, softly. "She was always in control of herself. Her every action was deliberate, even the wrong ones."

Noah nods but does not reply.

"I am sorry that you lost her." I place a hand on his shoulder. "There has been too much death, these past days. Rowan deserved better."

I feel Noah give a slight shudder beneath my grip. "I just...I hate that I will never know. I would give anything to speak to her, one time." He draws a shaky breath. "I would settle for a simple goodbye."

For once, words fail me.

Instead, I remain with my brother, sitting side by side with him as we watch the sun climb over the dunes. The early morning rays warm our faces and paint the Wastelands a rusty hue.

The red-soaked dunes are an omen of blood to come. To a Waster, war is a way of life; it was not until I met Megra that I considered it a means to an end.

I flinch inwardly, remembering that it was Kay who brought me to Megra. I never would I have invited conversation with the Miner's city, but Kay's boldness and unique abilities — the same qualities that I just chastised Luca for admiring — impressed me and forced me to reconsider. Trusting the Runner was undoubtedly the wisest decision I have ever made.

Now, I have to trust her to win this war.

* * * * *

"There you are." Megra waves me over.

I move to join her at the elaborate mirror propped up against the tent pole. I watch as she fusses with her hair, winking when she catches my eye in the reflection. She smiles in that small way, spinning around to face me.

"You take considerably less time to primp than I do." She teases.

I gesture to my hair, which I've twisted into a knot at the back of my head. "Do you think that this just happens by accident?"

She laughs. "Of course not. That must have taken you hours to perfect."

"Days." I lean against my trusty staff, letting my eyes rove over her figure approvingly. "You look beautiful."

"Well," She turns back to the mirror in an effort to hide the colour in her cheeks. "It is difficult to look one's best out in the middle of a desert, but I try." She runs her hands over her dress to smooth it. "Are you ready to go out there?"

"I am ready whenever you are, my Queen." I offer her my elbow, drawing back my shoulders as she loops her arm through mine.

"Wait." She halts me when we reach the door of the tent. "I've forgotten something."

I raise my eyebrows questioningly and she brings her hands up to either side of my face, tugging my lips down to hers.

"All right." I feel her smile against my mouth. "Let's go."

I hold aside the tent flap for her and we slip through, linking arms once again and making our way towards the bonfire. There is the low hum of many conversations, gradually growing louder as we draw closer to the flames. We enter the throng and bit by bit the voices begin to drop off, the sounds of a thousand Wasters, Miners and Babelonians falling into a hushed murmur as Megra and I stand before them.

Megra is as calm as I have ever seen her, poised and regal as she draws herself up to her full, impressive height. There is a marked seriousness about her, an ease of command that the throng innately responds to. Together, we turn to face our people, our hands clasped together for the briefest of instants before Megra raises her arms for attention.

"My friends," She calls out, at once silencing the last of the chatter. "Our victory over Babel was hard-won and well-earned. Tonight, we burn our fires to the sky as a warning and a sign of our triumph. Let it be known that Wasters and Miners do not leave their people behind!"

Shouts and cheers explode around us, fairly rattling the ground below. I cast my gaze over the crowd, at the countless upturned faces rapt with attention. I spot Luca, Noah and Cade off to the side. Luca catches my eye for a split second before turning away. I expect to find Kay nearby, but it isn't until I scan the back of the throng that I catch sight of her fiery hair. She is standing with the scruffy Miner rescued from below Babel. As I watch them I notice the way Kay continually glances up at her friend, as if she were assuring herself that he is really there.

"We have never been stronger!" Megra continues. "Only six short months ago, we Miners won our freedom from the oppressors within our walls. Now, together with our Wasteland brethren, we have defeated an even greater threat. We are bound by nothing, my friends. You have taken back the world, and now, I invite you to seize it!"

Even my heart jumps at her words. That satisfied little smile appears on her lips as she waits for the hollers to subside. I clear my throat, drawing on the years of practice and projecting my voice over the crowd.

"Look around, my brothers and sisters!" The low thud of hundreds of staffs and bows striking ground picks up as the Miners join the Wasters in their battle cry. "This is your tribe. Every one of these people would go to battle for you. These are your protectors, your friends, your equals. We come from different places, have different strengths and weaknesses, but together, we are invincible!"

I feel Megra's cool fingers lace through my own. I look down at her, trading a rueful grin. The reverberation of weapons striking ground and a thousand voices joined together sings through me. Our people, their boundless courage and loyalty spurred into a frenzied celebration by the words of their queen and chieftain. I squeeze Megra's hand tighter, feeling my chest swell to bursting.

"Now, it is our turn to bring the fear!" I bellow, turning back to the horde. My words come easily, fed by a hundred gory campaigns. "This is our war, our revenge, our brand of justice! The time for talk has ended, the time for reckoning has begun!"

The bloodthirsty shouts for retribution fill my ears and pump through my veins. Megra and I stand steady as mountains, ready and willing to lead our people into the next battle. I look subconsciously towards the back of the crowd, at once locking eyes with Kay. The light from the bonfire casts eerie shadows across her pointed features and the grim intensity in her gaze rattles me, even at this distance.

It is then, that I realize that I possess the ultimate weapon in this upcoming war. Propelled by vengeance and possessing no emotional attachment, the Runner is a warlord's quintessential warrior. In spite of my warnings to Luca, I can't help but feel a thrill of anticipation for the havoc we will spread across these Wastelands.

Kay's brokenness has made her invaluable.

And I have a war to win.