In the days that followed the celebration, Estera spent her time getting acquainted with her new community by shadowing Mary, who was in charge of meal prep in the Great Hall kitchen, and Anderson, who oversaw the fruit and vegetable garden. When she wasn't following them around, she was ducking into the Weather Room to get away from the storms, and get closer to Magnus. Their progression had come to a standstill when he passed out after taking her home, and she suspected he was embarrassed. Which meant she just had to try harder.

However, the time had come for her to venture to the trading post, which meant she would be gone for at least thirty-six hours. It was a setback she wasn't sure she could afford with Magnus. What if his emotional walls returned? She had friend-zoned men before, but she'd never experienced it herself, and she needed him if she was going to succeed in the north.

Clouds were hovering as usual, and she was getting used to the constant overcast and chill in the air, compared to the sun and uncomfortable heat in the south. Magnus walked quietly by her side as his father and Samson strolled just a few feet ahead towards the caravan of vehicles and tankers idling outside of the gates. When they reached one of the vans, she inhaled a deep breath before stepping inside.

"Wait." He tugged on her elbow. "Be careful out there. Stick close to my father and brother."

"You're worried..." She bit back a smile while studying his serious face. Feeling bold, she asked, "Will you miss me while I'm gone?"

The gurgle of engines occupied the silence that followed as his eyes darted to the people taking their seats. His voice softened when he looked at her again and pinched his index finger and thumb together. "Un poquitito."

Samson honked the horn, hollering they needed to get moving, and to her disappointment, Magnus stepped back with a simple head nod, instead of a hug.

"Bye, Estera."

"Bye." She waved.

∆∆∆

By the time they reached the trading post, it was nightfall, and everyone in the van was grouchy from the long drive. They all exited to stretch their legs, giving Estera a chance to get a good look at their surroundings. Clouds as thin as stretched cotton, drifted past the moon, causing it to blink and return with a radiant beam across the tall sea of grass, where rows of tents surrounded a totem pole — a white flag waving at the apex. People warmed their hands by fire pits scattered throughout the camp, while others strummed guitars to the melodic chirp of a harmonica.

It wasn't at all what she expected, and as she surveyed the place, her eyes followed a man walking a dirt path in the distance that led from the camp to an old building with a vacancy sign. On the illuminated porch, a few people sat in rocking chairs, with legs propped on the railing that wrapped the entire lower level.

"Come on, Estera," Jupiter called out. "We still have to set up the tent and booth for tomorrow. I know you're injured, but you can help by handing us materials."

"And the quicker we get it done, the quicker we can eat and go to sleep." Samson tossed her a sleeping bag, and she fumbled to catch it with one arm. When she glanced up at him, he smirked.

It was going to be a long trip.

By the time they were finished, an hour had gone by, and the sky seemed darker than before. As she looked about, some of the fires had burned out, and fewer people were hanging around. She wiped her brow, and her stomach complained of hunger with the scent of dinner wafting her way. Jupiter patted her shoulder and pointed to a communal tent in the middle of the camp that served food. From a distance, she could see steam rising from different pots on a portable stove, and a cook flipping something in a frying pan. They walked to it, and she hugged her borrowed jacket closer to her.

"Sit." Jupiter motioned to a table, and he went inside the tent to serve their plates.

Samson plopped down next to her with a groan, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. The entire time they pitched the tent, he was snippy and kept snatching things from her, not caring if he knocked her injured arm. Either he was moody from the drive, or was simply a jerk. She could feel him staring at her, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledgment. Instead, she picked at her nails.

"So..." He drummed the table with his knuckles. "What's the deal with you and my brother?"

"Deal?" she snorted.

"What do you want with him?"

"I don't want anything."

"Really?" He arched a brow. "I find that hard to believe. As much as I'd like to think I'm the better-looking brother, I know damn well that I'm not the one women pine for. Unlike me, Magnus isn't just anybody. He's a leader, and you've seen the way people look at him - the respect they have for him. One day, he'll take my father's place running the community, so for someone like you-"

"Someone like me?" Estera whipped her head around. "And what kind of person am I?"

"Someone who didn't just accidentally stumble onto our territory. That's for sure." He winked, and she wanted to rip his condescending eyelid off. Instead, she remained calm.

"Your brother rescued me and sheltered me, which means I owe him a great debt of gratitude. So, the only thing I want is to show him kindness in return."

Samson clapped. "Wow. Great speech. But I don't believe a word of it."

"What exactly is your problem with me?"

"Nothing. Not a single thing." He stood as his father approached. "I'm heading to the hotel bar. Could use a beer."

"A esta hora?" Jupiter glanced at his watch.

"It's not that late. Peace out, pops."

As they both watched him walk away, blood pulsed in Estera's ears, and she found herself clutching her fists under the table.

Samson was a problem.

∆∆∆

The next day, she awoke to the buzzing of voices all around her. The other sleeping bags in the tent were empty, so she crawled out of hers and slipped on the clean clothes Zemora was letting her borrow, before exiting. Bright sunshine greeted her with blindness, but once her eyes adjusted, she took in the activity of the trading post. Hoards of people strolled up and down the aisle of the tents while stoping to either observe or negotiate with vendors. Next to their sleeping tent was a booth where Jupiter and Samson stood discussing trading prices with buyers. Curious about how one could buy lightning, Estera stepped closer to listen.

"So, how much lightning would you recommend for a small farming community of around twenty homes?"

"To get the most from this deal, I'd recommend at least twenty cylinders," Jupiter explained. "Each one holds around one thousand kilowatts of lightning, which is enough to power a home for a month, but to make it stretch, we recommend only powering the necessities, and using candles and lanterns as much as possible."

"Ok, so how much?"

"What would you like to trade?" Jupiter countered.

"Well, our farming community is new and small, but we're prepared to trade four goats." The man held up his hands and said, "I know, I know, it might not seem like much, but goats provide multiple dairy options, and if you must, they can be consumed for their meat too."

"I think that's a fair trade." Jupiter nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Juarez."

"Please, call me Jupiter."

After shaking on the deal, Samson gathered a cylinder from the ground and walked it to the tank parked behind them. He slid the lid aside, screwed the glass to a port on the tank, and tested if it was secure before pressing a button. Lightning zapped inside, initiating a meter on the tank to count upwards. When it reached the mark he needed, he pushed another button that sealed off the supply, and slid the lid back into place before removing it from the port.

"There's one." He handed the glowing cylinder to the farmer, and the man's eyes widened in marvel at the energy bouncing inside it.

"This is incredible. What happens if it breaks?"

"Well, lightning is unpredictable, so it would shoot out, and potentially hurt all of us. However, this glass is strong." He tapped the cylinder. "It's made thick to withstand jostling and accidental drops."

"Well, I'll make sure to handle them with care either way." The farmer nodded. "I'll have the goats brought by this afternoon if that's alright?"

"That's fine." Jupiter extended his hand and exchanged a firm shake, but before letting go, he narrowed his eyes at the farmer. "But if you try screwing me over, it won't end well for you."

"I... I won't."

"Good. Then it's settled."

As Estera stood there, she realized that perhaps she underestimated Jupiter, like she did Magnus? He wasn't a warrior, but the look in his eyes when he spoke with the farmer was enough to let her know that he had his own way of fighting battles. She darted her gaze away when he caught her watching the exchange, and internally winced when he called her name.

"Why don't you go explore the other booths, and if you find anything interesting, just use these trinkets as trade." He handed her keychains with tiny cylinders of lightning bouncing inside.

"How do you make these?" She rolled one in her palm.

"That's a secret," Samson smirked and walked to the tank to continue the farmer's order.

"Return midday, and we'll have lunch," Jupiter said to her, and before Estera left, Samson pointed to his eyes and then to her, as if warning that he'd be watching her. When his father turned to see what she was furrowing her brows at, Samson occupied himself with his task.

Yes, he was definitely a problem.

After walking away, she began wandering the other booths, and with the sun beating down on the camp, she was thankful that most of them were inside tents. Figuring she couldn't keep borrowing clothes from Zemora, she browsed for some she could buy with trade. Typically her taste was to wear all black, with a good pair of leather pants, but that was the look of a southerner. Boots, leather, and amor were now a thing of the past, which meant she had to figure out what the new-her would look like.

As she searched through racks of clothes at a booth, she picked out a few dark wash jeans, a handful of ribbed tank tops, flannel button-ups, cable-knit sweaters, and a coat. If there was one thing she would hold onto from her old life, it was her steel toe boots. They would come in handy for kicking Samson if he continued to prod. By the time she was done, she had a few bags on her arm, and only a couple of keychains left. Satisfied, she moved on to do more exploring and eyed the hotel that sat at the end of the dirt path. She'd never been to one before, and apparently they sold beer - beer which would probably help her cool off after walking around in the sun. She was about to feed her curiosity when a familiar voice caused the blood in her veins to recoil.

When she turned around, the burlap bags nearly slipped from her hands as she took in the person before her with their dark hair tied into a low ponytail and thin sheen of sweat coating their smooth, brown skin. "I thought that was you."

"Dev," she breathed.

"I knew I saw you last night!"

"What do you want?" She stepped back.

"Not happy to see me?"

"No. I'm not. The last time I saw you, you broke your commitment to me."

He folded his arms, a smile creeping on his lips. "What did you expect? For me to pack my belongings and join you in exile? You know the rules."

"What do you want?" she repeated. "And what are you doing this far north!"

"I could ask you the same." And when she glared, he chuckled. "Fine. I was appointed to accompany Elliot Shaw to this trading post as his guard."

"Elliot Shaw is here?" Her eyes darted about, searching for her mother's right-hand man. "Did he see me?"

"No. He's at the hotel, playing poker. Why?"

"Because I don't want him to tell my mother. In fact..." She grabbed Dev's hand and yanked him towards a small alley between two tents. "I need you to pretend you never saw me."

"Why? What are you up to, Estera?"

"Nothing. I just want to be left alone."

"Yeah, see, I don't buy that." He stepped closer, backing her against the tent with his tall, muscular frame. "The Estera I know, the one who's undefeated fights I tracked, always has a plan. You're up to something. I can feel it."

"I just want to be left alone."

"Or what?" He stepped closer, eyeing her from head to toe, and something dangling from her jacket pocket caught his attention. "What's this?"

Estera scrambled to snatch the keychain from his hand, but he held it high above her head. "Give it back!" she growled.

"What are you doing with a lightning trinket?"

"None of your business!"

"You're living in the north, aren't you?" He searched her eyes, a sudden excitement in them. "What's it like?"

"Exactly what they always told us. It's full of cannibals who practice witchcraft."

"Do they know where you're from?"

"Of course not. Besides, I'm just lying low until I can find a more permanent place to settle," she replied, but he gave her a sideways look as he folded his arms.

"Oh, I doubt that. Conquering runs in your veins, so I bet you've already found their weak spots, and now you just need a plan to takeover."

"Not true! And I don't care if you don't believe me."

"Come on, Estera. Despite what happened, we can be cordial." He leaned in and caressed her cheek with the back of his finger, causing her mouth to betray her as it formed into a soft smile. "I want to help you."

"Why?"

"Because." He cupped her cheek. "We can still have a future together. Imagine a life where we sit side by side, controlling the north."

"You dream too small," she scoffed, but his eyes lit up.

"I knew it! You sneaky little thing. You are planning something."

"Maybe I am," she finally admitted with a shrug. "But I don't just want the north, Dev. I want it all."

"All... As in the entire region?"

"All of it." She grinned, and without warning, he pressed his mouth to hers. When he pulled away, his expression was serious.

"Then I'll help you take it all. Meet me tonight at the hotel, and we'll talk about it."

"See you later," she replied, and made her way out of the narrow alleyway, but nearly froze at the sight of Samson scanning the crowd with a hand shielding his eyes.

"There you are!" he said. "It's time for lunch."

As they walked back to their tent, her heart rattled in her chest. If she had lingered with Dev any longer, Samson would've seen her with him. It was a close call, which meant she needed to be more vigilant to keep her watcher at bay.