I shot an arrow toward the sky,
It hit a white cloud floating by.
The clould fell dying to the shore,
I don’t shoot arrows anymore.

—Shel Silverstein, “Arrows”

-1-

“Sir, are you seeing this?”

“You got the spyglass, Calamity. What’s ‘this?’ ”

“Sorry, sir, ” Palemst Jain said. “The bandits aren’t retreating past that line.” She passed the telescope to Darren. “Appears they’re as concerned about what’s behind ’em as they are of us.”

Darren looked through, and could see what his senior noncom was looking at. The bandits were trying to defend their rear flank while trying to flee the rifles on Darren’s front lines. Darren looked past the chaos of the battle to see what they feared — because he wanted to know if he needed to fear it, too.

He saw it presently. The bandits’ shields were of limited use against their bullets; they were of rather more use against the arrows raining down upon them from behind. Nevertheless, the bandits appeared to edge away from the arrows, even in the face of the 1st Atlantis Cavalry.

“What the hell?” Darren muttered. He then turned to the asker on his left. “Wrongway, tell the bugler to sound hold fire.”

“Sir?”

“That’s an order, Wrongway,” Darren said, urging his horse into a canter.

He rode up toward the front, and saw the bandits turn once they realized they were not being shelled. As one, the thirty living bandits dropped their weapons and ran for the Atlantis forces, waving frantically to signal their surrender.

“Chilaearch Poobah!” Darren shouted. “Get some men to secure the prisoners, we’ve got incoming behind ’em.”

“Yes sir!” Chilaearch Tarsuss shouted. He yelled to two soldiers to relay his orders, as Darren pulled up beside him.

“What’s got ’em worried, General?” Zhan asked.

“Dunno yet. They had arrows on their rear. Looked like they’d rather surrender to us than them.”

Darren took some pride as he saw the bandits reach the line. The Avalonian soldiers held weapons on them, but took no reprisal. Medics looked them over quickly, and signalled that there may be wounded alive among the enemy laying in the field. No army on Earth would have been more professional.

A group of irregulars came rolling over the hills, on foot but in full pelt. Darren saw their aim, and swore. “Gorram, no. Sound advance and hold!” he shouted, and the army moved forward to defend the bodies of their enemies.

The people on foot slowed up, then stopped; they appeared puzzled, but furious. Darren considered unholstering his sidearm, and decided against it. Instead, he rode at full gallop toward the lines, where the irregulars were now in a spirited argument with the first soldiers to arrive.

“They’re murderers and thugs! Let us give them justice! ” One man was shouting at an asker.

“No justice in that,” Darren barked.

“Sir, we’re not secure,” the asker said, not blinking.

“No kiddin’, asker,” Darren said. Dismounting, and turning to the men but a sword’s-length away. “Not arguing they’re saints. But I can’t let you butcher them. They surrendered.”

The man spit on the ground. “They rape, they steal, they befoul the land. They deserve no mercy.”

“No, they don’t,” Darren said. “But they’re gettin’ it anyway.”

“And who are you to decide?”

“I’m Epistratichos Darren Avery, commander of the 1st Atlantis Cavalry. Who are you to decide I’m wrong?”

“Atlantis? Atlantis is gone,” the man said.

“You don’t know that, Sarl,” the man next to him said.

“Well, where they been? Goddess left and they gave up. You remember the travellers heading east, said it was a disaster there.”

“‘Was’ is the operative term, Mr. Sarl,” Darren said. “We’re in a bit better shape now.”

“If you’re from Atlantis,” a woman in the back said, “you will know who was captain of the guard when Khalin began his reign of terror.”

Darren looked at her carefully. She was the only one of them on horseback, carrying a bow slung over her shoulder, a sword on her hip, and a regal air.

She was young, maybe 18 or 19. But she was clearly in command.

Darren nodded to her. “Captain of the Guard is still alive. Stratichos Lysis Xanthopolous. Good friend of mine.”

The woman nodded, and dismounted. “Lysis saved my life,” she said, walking forward. She had a slight limp, Darren noticed — not severe, barely noticeable. She removed her glove. “Dia Velos, Mayor of Napata.”

“You should bow to her,” Sarl said, as Darren took it.

“Enough,” Dia said, tersely. “I apologize, Sarl is brave, but he lacks tact.”

“Soldiers need bravery much more, ma’am,” Darren said.

“So why have you stopped our pursuit?” Dia said.

“Not sayin’ you don’t have cause,” Darren said. “This group has caused havoc all the way down to Wanderer’s Bay. Leaders might be executed, they’ll certainly be imprisoned. Followers will get at least some time and hard labor. But they surrendered. They’re in my custody. We’ll treat them fair.”

“They would not do the same, if the situation was reversed,” Mayor Velos said.

“I know, Mayor. But we’re better than they are.”

Dia nodded. “I can see that,” she said. “Sarl, sheath your sword. These are not our enemies.”

“They’re protecting our enemies,” Sarl said.

“No,” Dia said, laying a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “They’re protecting themselves — and us. Trying to keep us from becoming like them.”

Sarl sighed. “You’re just like your old man, you know. All right,” he said, turning to the other irregulars. “You heard the mayor! Swords down!”

Zhan, who had been listening carefully, finally broke in. “Sir, it’s getting late. Recommend we set up camp, treat the wounded?”

“Agreed. Give the order, chilaearch. Mayor, your people are welcome to join us in camp; we’ve got medics to treat injuries if’n you’ve got ’em.”

“Thank you, Epistratichos,” Velos said.

* * *

It was a relatively cool evening on Avalon; though they were near the equator, Avalon itself orbited Herakleos, and its weather depended not just on its own axial tilt, but the planet’s as well – not to mention that the terraforming had been designed to give Avalon relatively temperate weather.

The soldiers had built a few bonfires – Darren wasn’t afraid of giving his location away. The hundred and fifty soldiers under his command were the toughest fighting force on the moon not named Rixie Tam. If bandits wanted to try to catch them unawares, he was happy to make that mistake their last. Hell, he’d done it more than once.

“Your fighters are impressive, Epistratichos,” Mayor Velos said, eating some of the hardtack and broth that had been prepared. Darren had pushed to allow the Titans to make MREs for his people, but the Council was hesitant to take Titan aid if they could do for themselves; he understood it, but he was counting the days until someone in Avalon got canning up and running.

Darren finished chewing his pemmican before replying, “Thank you, Mayor, but they aren’t fighters. They’re soldiers.”

“What’s the difference?” Sarl grumbled.

“Fighters fight,” Zhan said, repeating one of the first lessons Darren had taught. “They just go out and beat on people. Soldiers have rules. Limits. Ideally, we fight only when we must, and fight only until our objective is achieved.”

“Ideally,” Darren said, “being the operative word. Ain’t an army in the universe that’s perfect on that front. But we aim for that; been enough bloodshed.”

“And all of it since the goddess got bored,” Sarl sneered.

“She didn’t get bored,” Zhan said. “She told us the truth.”

Sarl laughed mirthlessly. “The truth don’t keep people alive, kid.”

“If it was the truth,” another woman said. “I still say the goddess is testing us. And finding us wanting.”

“No,” Zhan said.

“Well, then, is she amused by it? Thinks it’s funny, us killing each other? She look down from on high and cheer for the bloodshed?”

Zhan looked at Sarl, and said quietly, “Everyone who dies, everyone who is hurt on this planet – she mourns every one of us. Blames herself for every injury.”

“She should,” Sarl grumbled. “It’s her fault.”

“Like hell,” Zhan said. “She told us the truth. And a lot of us hated her for it. I did, for a while. But she didn’t tell us to go kill each other. She didn’t tell us to prey on the weak and the sick. That was our doing. She trusted us enough to let us make our own decisions – we’re the ones screwing them up.”

“Eh, you talk like she’s still around to be worshipped. That fucking whore got bored with her toys. I hope the slut is happy.”

Zhan rose quickly. Darren didn’t look at him; he didn’t need to. All he said was, “At ease, Chilaearch. He ain’t worth it.”

“Worth what?” Sarl said, rising himself. “You wanna take a swing? You must care for that slut a hell of a lot.”

“Sarl, sit down!” Velos barked. “You’re insulting our hosts.”

“Well, the guy talks like he knows the goddess,” Sarl said.

“He does,” Darren said. “She’s his wife.”

That brought conversation to a halt, until Sarl began to guffaw. “Wife! Oh, that’s…you’re funny, Epiwhatchakos. Wife. The Goddess married one of us? Next you’ll tell me she’s brought him to Earth.”

Velos watched Darren closely. “Sarl,” she said, quietly, “I don’t think Epistratichos Avery is lying to us.”

“You’re a smart cookie,” Darren said.

Dia looked over at Zhan. “You’re really married to her?”

Zhan nodded. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I still find it hard to believe myself.”

“Why doesn’t she come and destroy the bandits?” Dia asked. “Surely, she could.”

Zhan sighed. “I guess it’s like having kids. You can go fix their mistakes for them – or you can let them fix it themselves. You keep fixing your kids’ mistakes, you never let them grow up. She’d come down here and throw herself on the bandits in a second…but that doesn’t make them stop. It makes them hunker down until she goes away, and they come back again. Only way to stop them forever is for us to do it ourselves.”

“Do you believe this?” Sarl said. “Boy, you go tell her we’ve got people dying – she needs to get her giant ass out here!”

“No,” Dia said.

“Mayor, you know how bad it is! Your father, your brother….”

“My brother and father died standing up to evil. As did your son, Sarl. It is not the goddess’s fault that there are evil people. They aren’t her brothers and sisters. They are ours.”

“Some of them are hers,” Zhan said. “There was a giant who attacked Atlantis. Pryvani – the goddess – she fought her, hand-to-hand. She will defend us against her own kind. She’s doing it constantly. And she is helping us. Like with Epistratichos Avery.”

“How so?” Dia asked.

“Well, it’s a really long story. Punxsutawney recruited me, seein’ as I knew a bit about solderin’. Wanted me to train up the folks in Atlantis so we could go kick some bandit butt. This was the biggest group left to go after. After this it’s just the occasional idiot here or there.”

“So you’re not from Avalon?”

“Naw, come from another planet. But that’s not here nor there. What’s your story, Mayor? The bandits in custody told us they didn’t want you to catch ‘em, because you wouldn’t take a surrender.”

Dia smiled sadly. “I suppose it reflects poorly on us. We barely have the resources to keep the village intact, and to fight to keep a few fields safe. We have not been imprisoning them. We have been executing them.”

Darren nodded. “It’s war, Mayor. You can only do so much. You have a village?”

Dia nodded. “Napata,” she said.

“Napata’s still standing?” Zhan said. “That’s – that’s wonderful! We thought it was lost. Khalin took it over after he razed Sellada. Then he and his group moved on to Gla, but before that – they killed the mayor of Napata, his son – Lysis said the mayor’s daughters walked all the way to Wanderer’s Bay, one of them with an arrow in her leg, looking for help. They managed to convince Wanderer’s Bay to give the guard men and women to fight in Gla – if not for those two girls, I don’t know how we stop Khalin.”

Dia smiled sadly. “It was that or die,” she said. “If not for Leedya, I most certainly would have. She carried me much of the way, when she could barely stand herself.”

Zhan looked at the young woman in awe. “You…you were the one he shot? You…they said you were only two!”

“Well, it’s been a year, you know. And there’s nothing like a near-death experience to sharpen the senses.”

“True enough,” Darren said. “How many left in your village?”

“Ninety-three. Which is up from a low of eighty; I take pride in that,” she said.

“You damn well should,” Darren agreed. “Your sister one of ‘em, I hope?”

“She is,” Dia said. “Leedya is the closest thing we have to a healer. And her son is one of the new citizens. These are our fighters – and we are fighters, I must admit. We’ve been fighting to keep the bandits at bay. Its’ not an easy life, mind you, but….”

“Very impressive,” Darren said. “Zhan, you know the terrain better than me.”

“With these bandits in custody, we should have a clear run to Napata. When we get back, we’ll alert the council, bring a convoy out.”

“’Course we will,” Darren said. “But they’re in dire need. Under my authority as C-in-C, I’m calling in the cavalry. Will you do the honors?”

Zhan smiled, and pulled a device out of his bag. “Tayas Mons, this is Zhan,” he said.

“What’s he doing?” Dia asked.

“Callin’ the wife,” Darren said.

There was a brief pause, before a voice replied, “Hello, Zhan, how are you doing?”

“Great, Zara. Is Pryvani there?”

“She’s stuck in a call with investors, has me monitoring comms. If you want, I can go get her….”

“No, that’s fine, I’m used to it,” Zhan chuckled.

“Now, Zhan – you know she left directives to pull her out of any meeting if you ask me to. It’s no trouble. She’ll come if you need her.”

“I know she will,” Zhan said, and his smile grew tender. “That’s why you don’t have to get her. I’m just calling in a 1020; Napata. It’s on the maps. We’re about a third of a kilounit west of it, ran into people from the town during clean-up. Epistratichos Avery’s authorized standard supply package. They give a census of 93, call it an even hundred to be safe.”

“No problem. We’ll meet you outside the town…are you camped for the night?”

“Yup,” Zhan said. “Can you meet us there in about…say, 20 hours?”

“For you, sure. You want us to drop Nick and Sophia?”

Zhan looked back at the Mayor, who was staring, fascinated. “Mayor, we can have humans bring this out if you want to make it more…discreet.”

“So that’s a…that’s another goddess?” she asked.

“Naw,” Darren said. “Another giant, sure. But Zara is no goddess.”

“The channel’s open, Epistratichos Avery,” Zara said.

“You think I don’t know that, Zippy?”

“No, I think you do,” Zara said with a sigh.

Dia looked thoughtful. “They’re…going to help?”

“As much as the Council lets them. They’ll bring your town food, building supplies – about a month’s worth. Hopefully, by that point, your town is stabilized enough for us to run supplies direct from Atlantis.”

Dia sighed, as if she was letting go of a century’s worth of worry. “Okay,” she said, softly. “And…if they are helping, anyone is welcome. It’s…they don’t have to hide. If anything, it might help.”

“You’re the boss,” Zhan said. “You get that, Zara?”

“I did, Zhan. We’ll see you about a tenth of a kilounit west of Napata, then. Get some sleep.”

“Thanks, Zara, see you then. Zhan out,” he said, punching a button.

“Is that…that magic?” Sarl asked.

“Nah,” Darren said. “Just radio. There are humans on other worlds that have it. The Titans – people like Pryvani – they ain’t different than us…well, not much. Size-wise, sure. But they’re just people. Like us.”

“So they’re not gods – they’re just giants?” Dia asked.

“Yup. Don’t get me wrong, they’ve invented a lot of stuff that looks amazing. They can fly through space, visit other stars. They can make really neat illusions, make it look like you’re just about anywhere. But that’s all stuff we’ll be able to do, someday, if we get a chance. Or our kids will, anyhow.”

Dia nodded. “So my people will have food enough. Water, new shelter….”

“Not just that,” Darren said. “Zhan, you wanna get together a detachment?”

“Yes, sir,” Zhan said, getting up and saluting.

“What’s that?”

“You’ve been fighting to keep your town safe long enough, Mayor. We’ll leave you some soldiers to keep the bandits out. Now that we got these taken care of, shouldn’t be many more left in the area, but better safe than sorry.”

“So my town will be fed, and clothed, and secure,” Mayor Velos said, quietly.

“On my word.”

She nodded. “Thank you,” she said, and she calmly set her bow and quiver on the ground in front of her. She stood, and unsheathed her sword, and turned the hilt to Darren, who looked to her quizzically.

“Epistratichos Avery, if you will secure my people, then my work is done. And therefore, I must surrender to you, for I am no less guilty of crimes than the men your fighters – your soldiers – are guarding.”

“How do you figure?” Darren said, ignoring the sudden outcry from Dia’s people. She turned to them, and with one look, silenced them. She turned back to Darren, and he could see by the firelight that there were tears in her eyes.

“You said that soldiers do not kill unless they have to. Well, I have killed those who threatened us. I have done far worse than that,” she said. “They tried to take our town. They failed. But they failed because…because….”

She took a shuddering breath. “Please, Epistratichos. I did what I had to do. I have known what I was doing was wrong. I submit to your authority, and that of the people in Atlantis. If there are men among the bandits who deserve death…I deserve it no less.”

Darren looked thoughtful. He stood, and took her sword from her.

“You won’t take her,” Sarl said. “Like she said, she did what had to be done.”

“I’m not taking her anywhere,” Darren said. “She’s submitted to my judgment. Well, by morning, Mayor, you’ll have it.”

Darren looked up at Herakleos. “Got about another eleven hours ‘til sun-up. That’s enough time. Lokagos Sopi?” Darren shouted.

“Sir?” a young officer responded from a few meters away.

“I need you to secure the kettle drum from Bekchi Pegax, and some paper. Mr. Sarl, I’m going to ask you to serve as defense counsel. Chilaearch Tarsuss?”

“Yes, sir?” Zhan said, returning.

“Need you to find six soldiers. Fair-minded ones. And then come back here on the double. I’m gonna need you to prosecute.”

“What’s going on, sir?” Zhan asked.

“We’re having ourselves a court-martial, Chilaearch.”

-2-

Darren pulled a stool up to the kettle drum that had been brought to him. He’d taken five minutes and shaved, put on a new jacket. He sat down, and faced the young woman who was sitting a few feet away, staring at the ground.

“This military court is now in session,” Darren said. “Been a long tradition of justice done like this. Not always fair, though. I’m gonna try to be fair. Mayor Velos, these six soldiers and officers are the jury. They’re gonna hear the evidence against you and that in your favor, and they’ll render a verdict. I’ll pass judgment. Mr. Sarl will be your advocate here; Chilaearch Tarsuss will serve as the advocate for punishment. Do you understand?”

“Chilaearch Tarsuss is probably closer to my advocate, sir,” Dia said. “I am not trying to avoid punishment.”

“Well, drumhead tribunals don’t allow for plea bargains, so we’re gonna hear the testimony anyhow. So why are you throwing yourself at the court’s mercy today, Mayor?”

“Because,” Dia said, “I did things that are unforgivable.”

“Been a war goin’ on, Mayor,” Darren said. “Ain’t a war ever fought that didn’t see decent people do unforgivable things. Ain’t a soldier alive who hasn’t done something in the heat of battle that they wish they could take back.”

“Even you?”

Daren smiled sadly in the dim light of the fire and the planet they circled. “Especially me, Mayor. Especially me. Now, you said you did unforgivable things. Zhan, your witness.”

“Mayor Velos,” Zhan said, “what did you do?”

Dia sighed. “It isn’t a short story,” she said. “Suffice to say….”

“I don’t want the short story,” Zhan said. “We have several hours before we’re to meet Zara. We have time to talk.”

Dia sighed. “All right,” she said. “All right.”

* * *

You know the first part of my story. I was the youngest child of Lapu and Tana Velos. My father was mayor of Napata that fateful day that Khalin and his people overran our town. He survived the initial battle, but not by long. He spat in Khalin’s eye before he died; I’m told that Khalin made him pay for the insult, but I know my dad. He was proud to have not gone out timidly. And I’m proud of him for not begging, for not wheedling, for not caving. There were others who would.

My mother…I’m not sure when exactly she died. After we were imprisoned, we know that much. Khalin told us one day that she had been raped, told us a different day that she had been murdered. I hope he was just stretching it out to cause us pain. I hope she didn’t suffer much. I know better than to hope she did not suffer at all.

I don’t know why Khalin offered the deal to Jortan. Maybe it was boredom, or overconfidence, or faith in the goddess he claimed he fought for. All I know is that he gave Jortan a chance to fight to save us – and he promised that he would free us if Jortan would fight him. I don’t think my brother thought he had a chance, and I don’t think he really thought Khalin would free us – but I think he decided he’d rather face death with a knife in his hand. Jortan was a lot like my father, really. He would have been a good man.

Khalin killed him, and he freed us. But not before putting the arrow in my leg. You’ve probably noticed my limp, Epistratichos; I will always have it. A reminder of the wound Khalin left on my family and my home. As if I needed it.

My sister willed us to Wanderer’s Bay; if not for her, I would have given up. The pain was excruciating, and it would have been even had I not been injured. I didn’t know what we were walking toward, or why.

It was in Wanderer’s Bay that we first heard the Goddess had abdicated. We’d heard rumors, but nothing concrete. It made sense, I suppose. And Chilaearch, I don’t blame her, for you are right – she trusted us not to become savages. We let her down.

Lysis was kind to us, and made sure we had care. She made sure that the people there listened to our story, understood the evil of Khalin. They went and killed him, I heard, and good. It didn’t bring my father back, or my mother, or my brother. But at least he went to join them.

We healed in Wanderer’s Bay, as much as we could. When my leg had healed enough to walk on, we returned home. I don’t know why, really. It made as much sense as anything.

Napata was in shambles. Khalin had taken every able-bodied man left alive to make his assault on Gla. A few of them had staggered home; they had rebelled as soon as they had room to, but…Sarl will tell you…they had to fight, or be killed. And what Khalin made them do….

Of the twenty-eight men who returned, only fourteen were in anything close to their right minds. Seven died within the first month – they all looked like accidents, or at least, so their families said. Three others died in fights, two with each other, one with his wife. Four others just wasted away. Sat and stared at the horizon, could barely move themselves to talk.

Of course, that was the men; the women were in a similar state. Wasn’t an adult woman who hadn’t been raped – that was true of most of the men, and a good chunk of the children. My sister and I were in the minority, then.

Maybe four or five months passed. We tried as best we could to pull things together. There were still some crops to harvest, and we did; still some planting to do, and we did. We tried to pretend that two-thirds of our friends and family members hadn’t died, that the babies born to Amoriam Gart and Roesia Smage had been left them by their husbands before they died, and not by the brutes the children’s complexion favored. And we might have been successful. But then the bandits came.

At first, they just raided our storehouses. Which was terrible, mind you – we once sent grain aplenty to Atlantis, but we had barely enough to feed ourselves. We were facing starvation. But then…they came back. You see, word had spread that there was a town with few strong men to guard it, few strong women capable of fighting back…and the bandits desired more than just our food.

I was two years, four months old when they raped me. Three of them – I didn’t have a chance. I was a child until that moment. I was able to pretend that things could be okay someday. I couldn’t pretend after that.

My sister blamed herself, took to her room, drank what was left of the alcohol my father had stored. But I…I don’t know how to explain it. It was as if my soul was set on fire. I hated them. Hated the bandits. Hated the men who had destroyed what little peace we had left. I would not let them victimize me again. Not again.

I walked into the town square and rang the bell on the meeting hall, the one my father had rung before gatherings. It had not sounded since Khalin had killed him. Not everyone came, but some did. Enough.

I don’t know why I thought I could lecture them, demand things from them. In my rage I didn’t doubt myself. I told them we were going to make Napata safe. I told them we were going to make everyone know that we were not their playground.

I worked with a few of those who had seen battle who still had their wits. Sarl will tell you, he’d tried to wash away his sorrow with the bottle, the way my sister did. But he put it away. He listened. He was the one who came up with the idea for the soft target.

When a small group of bandits made a raid, we made sure that they came upon two of the prettiest women in town first – my sister and Xylia Gous. They made sure that the bandits saw that they were unarmed and unprotected, and fled into a run-down barn with nothing but hay in it. Four men entered the barn, in hot pursuit. Three of them died almost immediately, killed by the few arrows we had scrounged. The last one…the last one Sarl caught and held.

He held him down, and let me work on him. I did it. I had to. It was my idea, and I couldn’t put the burden on anyone else.

I had my father’s sword, the one I handed you. I cut off his ear, I cut off his hand, and then…I cut off his manhood. And told him to run, and tell his friends what waited for them in Napata.

It would be nice if that had ended it, but the bandits were angered. Fortunately for us, we were angry too. Everyone who could swing a sword learned to fight, save Leedya – she had been studying with my mom, who was the town healer. She worked on treating our wounded. And there would be wounded. Many of us. We had ninety people when we returned. We dropped to eighty before things got better, and if not for my sister’s skill it would have been far less.

But they did get better. I was not the only child who became an adult too early. Three of the fighters with this group are my age or younger. The men and women who knew how to fight taught us. We made arrows, made arrowheads out of metal, and out of stone when the metal ran out. We took swords from those we killed. And we killed many. We did not take prisoners. Those we left alive we left disfigured. Many of them begged to just be killed, but we did not want them to just fear death. We wanted them to fear something far worse. Pain. Suffering. Loss. Everything they had done to us, we did to them.

We grew stronger. We began to patrol. We came across a group of travelers headed East during one patrol – not bandits, but people heading for a new life. We treated them well, asked for nothing from them – I am glad of that. It means the bandits did not take all our humanity. There were four men and two women who stayed with us. Only one woman survives, alas, but they fought by our sides and fought to the death and their children, we care for as our own. My sister’s child is named Lusa, for his father, a brave and noble fighter who gave his life to save Sarl and me. They are of Napata, as much as any of us.

Those fighters, those bandits – they have caused much damage. But they were fleeing us, because they knew we would not be so kind as you. They knew that I would punish them as I have punished so many others. I regret that I had no choice but to do it. But I would do it again. There are 93 of us alive in Napata today. With my departure, there will be 92. But if I had not done it…if any of us was still alive…we would envy those who had preceded us in death.

* * *

“And so you see,” Dia concluded, “I have committed sins no worse than theirs. Oh, I did it for a better reason, but the man whose hands and feet I took would hardly feel consoled by that, nor the man I left blinded, nor the man whose tongue I cut out….”

“You did what you did to protect the town,” Sarl said.

“They did stop coming to our town. And the bandits we caught in the fields…they gave us a wide berth. But we kept after them. We didn’t let them simply leave us be.”

“And neither did we,” Darren said. “Chilaearch Tarsuss, any other questions for the witness?”

Zhan stared after Dia a good long while before saying, “No, sir.”

“Mr. Sarl?”

“Please, Mayor,” he said to Dia. “You don’t…you saved us. You saved me. I was a drunk, sir,” he said, turning to Darren. “I was broken by what Khalin made me do. She gave me a reason to live. Gave us all a reason to live. We wouldn’t have fought without her pushing. We would’ve laid down and died. She saved us all. That has to count for something, please.”

Darren leaned back. “Jurors, I want you to discuss this. Tell me if you think Mayor Velos has committed crimes.”

The jurors looked at each other, before a senior noncom said, “Well…I mean, she’s admitted to what would be war crimes, sir.”

“Quite right,” Darren said. “Your actions are torture. That’s against the laws of war and society.”

“I know,” Dia said.

Darren looked at her evenly. “I know you do. Like I said, you’re smart. And if you engaged in those actions in society, I would have no choice but to jail you – heck, maybe execute you. But here’s the thing I keep circling back to. See…you weren’t a part of society when you did this. Society was gone. All that was left was your troop and another troop of primates tryin’ to hurt you. That was it. You were in a state of nature. And in nature, there’s only one law – survival of the fittest. We don’t execute a predator for killin’ its prey – or prey for killin’ its predator.

“The question I’d have would be what happens now. You see, civilization is comin’ to Napata – you’re gonna have to stop extracting raw justice, and trust the authorities to do it for you. But you answered that question, Mayor. The second I told you that your city would be civilized again, you bowed to civilization. You declared yourself a part of it. And you told us that if we do not think you can fit within the civilized world, the civilized world can cast you out. Well, we ain’t gonna. You’ve been found guilty, but I’m vacating the judgment, as I lack jurisdiction. Whatever force judges us when we die might have something to say about it, but here on this maculate world, we’re done.”

Dia looked at her hands as her people cheered, and wiped tears away. She’d expected to be killed. She had accepted it. She deserved it. She wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

She was a bit surprised when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, and saw Epistratichos Avery smiling at her, gently. “Mayor Velos,” he said, softly enough that only she could hear, “I had to kill a girl, not much more mature than you, in order to save my life and the life of a friend. I had to it. Doesn’t mean I don’t regret it, every day. But I did what I had to. And it doesn’t fix anything to let that regret swallow you. You don’t either. Your people need you.”

“They’re not ‘my people,’” she said. “I…I was a loudmouth kid.”

“You were our leader,” one of the women among the fighters said. “You are our leader. You never called yourself Mayor. We gave that title to you.”

Darren nodded. “Get some rest, Mayor,” he said. “Tomorrow, you get to bring civilization to Napata.”

-3-

Two platoons headed East, for Napata; the rest of the cavalry headed back to Atlantis, bandits in tow. Darren had let Lokagos Sopi take command of the troops heading home; Darren didn’t need to be at the head of the column. He would have had Zhan take them…but he was more interested in talking shop with him, getting him ready. The kid was young, but he was shaping up to be a damn fine officer. Not surprising, he supposed; Pryvani Tarsuss was a pretty good judge of character, and she’d never marry someone who was merely outstanding.

If everything went right, Darren could take off his rank pin soon, stop being an active-duty officer, and start advising the government. Oh, soldiering was fun in its own way. But he’d seen enough battle. He wanted to go back to Atlantis, settle down…maybe start a family. ‘Course, it wouldn’t be up to him alone.

But he’d had enough battles. Afghanistan, Iraq, Rutger, Avalon…he’d done his time. He’d help. Plenty of ways he could help. But between Lysis and Zhan, Sopi, some of the others…they had good people, and they had a start on training. That’s where he could help.

After a time, they came to a spot on the path where a makeshift checkpoint stood. Two children stood guard – a young boy, maybe sixteen by Earth reckoning, appeared to be the senior soldier. A girl maybe two or three years his junior stood watch as well. They didn’t come to a military attention when Dia rode to the fore, but they gave her their full attention nonetheless.

“Dia!” the boy said. “Is everything okay? Did you get the bandits?”

“We did, Nodoki. Or I should say, our friends did.”

The boy – Nodoki – looked to the soldiers behind them. “Friends?”

“Yes,” Dia said. “These are soldiers from Atlantis. They have fought their way here. They have come to defend us, so that we can put down our weapons. So you and Lirin can go back to school.”

“You’re from Atlantis?” the girl asked, wide-eyed.

“We are,” Darren said, heart aching. He’d seen child soldiers before. The Taliban was quite fond of using them. He knew Napata hadn’t had much choice, but he knew just how much had been lost, putting boys and girls at a watchpost instead of letting them play.

He looked at their mayor. So much had been lost, indeed.

“How many do you have on guard, Mayor?”

“We have two watchposts along this road, and two to the East,” she said. “Twelve of us guard them at all times.”

Darren nodded. “Lokagos Rire, I don’t imagine we need twelve men on watch forever, but for now….”

“Yes, sir!” the young woman said, saluting. “Palemst Anania, Asker Parbas, take charge of this post; I’ll send Asker Comis out to relieve you within eight hours.”

Anania returned the salute. “Yes ma’am. Asker, you set up provisions. Orders, ma’am?”

“You probably should have Lirin and Nondoki stay with you,” Mayor Velos said. “At least until your soldiers have learned to identify our citizens.”

“Good idea. You two have rations to last?” Darren asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. Share them with these citizens. I’ll make sure we run some more out on the double.”

“Yes, sir,” Anania said, saluting with a flourish.

They continued on another kilometer, reaching the rendezvous point in a little under an hour. They killed a bit of time, sharing some water, talking about logistics. Darren was not surprised to see the Napatans growing more worried as time ticked away toward the visit from the Titans. Only three of them had ever seen the goddess back in her goddess days. But they could imagine. And while Zhan and Darren and the other Atlantaeans did their best to allay the fear…well, Darren knew full well that the fear was wholly justified.

They heard the thuds echoing in the distance. Not hoofbeats – Pryvani didn’t ride into town anymore. Just the steady thuds of two Titans, out for a walk on a lovely spring day.

“Surprised they didn’t take a shuttle,” Darren said.

“Pryvani thinks that vehicles are too hard to land safely. Besides, we worked it out, at their scale, Wanderer’s Bay is only a league away.”

“A league…okay…so three, four klicks then. We gotta unify our measurements at some point.”

“Agreed,” Zhan said.

“Yeah, that’s walkable. Still, they don’t have to do it. Especially not with them having to use dampeners.”

“No, they don’t,” said Zhan. “But Pryvani would rather inconvenience herself than inconvenience us,” he said. Darren smiled; Zhan said it with no small measure of pride.

“There they are!” gasped Sarl, gazing off toward the sounds. And indeed, there they were, walking carefully through the fields, eyes focused down, on the near distance, doing their best to walk on fallow land and wild areas. An enormous man, tall, with brown hair and kind eyes, and, much to Zhan’s delight, a short – well, relatively short – woman with hair that was presently a brilliant pink streaked with aquamarine.

“That’s the goddess,” Sarl said. “I saw her once, two years ago.” Almost on instinct, he dropped to his knees. Zhan sighed, and walked over to him.

“Believe me, I know what you’re thinking,” he said, calmly. “But she’s not a goddess. She’s a person. The most perfect person I’ve ever met…but a person. You can stand.”

“I’m not worthy of her,” Sarl said.

“Oh, she’d disagree, Sarl. You’re no less a person than she is, or Taron. And she would be far more honored for you to greet her as an equal than to grovel to her.”

Sarl looked up at the young man, and nodded. “Old habits,” he said, softly.

Zhan nodded, and offered a hand. “Like I said,” he replied. “I have no idea how I ended up with her.”

“You’re brave as Teddy Roosevelt, that’s how,” Darren said. “Don’t think Pensacola hasn’t noticed.”

“Do I need to ask who Teddy Roosevelt is?” Zhan laughed.

“That’s ‘Do I need to ask who Teddy Roosevelt is, sir,’ and I’ll tell you later.”

“So he’s a…a Titan as well?” Dia asked.

“Yup. Taron. Nice fella. Good with technology, good pilot. He’s one of the Titans that live up on the mountain. They don’t come down a lot, not lately. But we’ll see ‘em more and more. They’re just being neighborly. This is our home; they don’t come down without an invite.”

Dia nodded. She didn’t appear frightened or reverent of the goddess and god that approached. She appeared resolute.

They closed the gap in less than ten minutes. Soon enough, the group craned their necks to look up at them. Zhan was both glad and somewhat disappointed that Pryvani had worn capris and a utilitarian shirt. He always rather enjoyed the view when she wore skirts. That said, he understood why she might not want to display her undergarments to a group of new people.

“Hello,” Pryvani said, as she grew nearer. “Epistratichos Avery, is all well?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Darren said. “Thanks for comin’.”

“Happy to do it,” Taron said. He slowed as he neared them, and took off what for him was a small pack. He set it down carefully, but it still shook the ground. “That gets heavy after a bit.”

“Well, it’s about twenty tons of materiel, I’d think it would,” Darren said.

Taron shrugged, “Eh, it reminds me of my backpack in college. It’s not bad.”

Pryvani set her pack down, and carefully lowered herself. She’d been working on this; Alex had been kind enough to let Nick share notes from his convalescence. She’d made notes about which motions of Rixie’s set him off, and which he was better able to handle. Then she’d begun looking at how to use that to move around humans so that they did not feel threatened, so that they did not feel afraid. She dropped gradually, even though it was difficult to do with grav inhibitors on. It was difficult, but it was worth doing; she could already see that more than a few of the non-soldiers were caught between awe and terror. A minor inconvenience for her was no trouble at all.

“Hello,” she said, when she got situated. “My name’s Pryvani Tarsuss, and this is my friend Taron Dande; I’m sure Epistratichos Avery and Chilaearch Tarsuss explained a bit about us.”

“You’re the goddess,” Sarl blurted out.

Pryvani sighed. “No, I am not. I’m just a person. The lie that I was ever someone supernatural…I am sorry. I just happen to be tall.”

“If you’re not a goddess,” Dia asked, “why are you still helping us?”

Pryvani smiled. “Because we can. As I know you would help us if the situation was reversed.”

“Not all of us would,” Dia replied. “There are many humans….”

“And there are many Titans, too, unfortunately. But not most. I don’t believe I got your name?”

“Dia Velos, ma’am,” she said.

“Mayor Velos is the leader of Napata,” Darren said.

Pryvani nodded. Her eyes flitted to Zhan briefly. “I see. Well, madam Mayor…would you care to take a walk with me? I’d like to talk to you about the situation in Napata.”

Dia’s eyes widened. She said she was not a goddess, but she knew. Her judgment was coming. “Of course, ma’am. Will your friend, Taron….”

“We’ll wait a bit,” Taron said. “It’s a nice day. And I’m sure there’s more information I can share. Like really and truly, Pryvani is not a goddess, but she is my boss, so if she tells me to wait somewhere, I wait.”

Pryvani shook her head at Taron, and turned back to Dia. She put her hand flat on the ground. “You can walk…but it will be hard to keep up, I fear.”

Dia nodded, and walked boldly into the hand of Pryvani. She wasn’t afraid. Whatever happened…she deserved it.

The first time a Titan picks you up is daunting, even if you’re bracing for it, and even if the Titan in question is being careful. Pryvani was being extremely careful – moving slowly, cautiously, making sure her hand was as steady as she could possibly control. Nevertheless, for Dia, it felt like nothing she had ever experienced. It was terrifying, the way a roller coaster is terrifying – except she’d never ridden a rollercoaster, and was incapable of making that comparison. All she knew is that for one brief moment, she felt as if she’d been thrown into the abyss, and she found herself holding on to the soft, slightly-damp palm of the Goddess of Avalon for dear life.

“It’s okay,” Pryvani said quietly. “I’ve got a good hold of you.”

Dia looked out from between Pryvani’s fingers, and was awestruck by how far up she was. No building she’d ever been in came close to this height; in fact, she could see some of the buildings of Napata off in the distance. She imagined that they could probably see the giants; she felt sure they would be alternating between terrified and elated.

Much as Dia felt.

“We’ll be back,” Pryvani said. “I just want to have a quick chat with the mayor about security.”

“We’ll keep ‘em occupied, Pop Warner,” called the Epistratichos from the ground. He sounded very far away, but Pryvani seemed to have no problem hearing him.

“Thanks, Darren,” she said. And then they were off.

Dia hadn’t really looked back up, and now that she did, she was rather astounded to find that as high up as she was, the giantess carried her only at about stomach-level. The angle from which she looked was dominated by the breasts of the woman, which she suspected would be on the large side even if she was human-sized. The woman’s steel blue eyes flickered back and forth between Dia and the road ahead. She was clearly prioritizing the tiny person’s safety over everything else.

They hadn’t travelled for very long, but Dia could recognize enough landmarks to realize that they were out past the watch zone. The fields were weed-strewn, a barn was burned down. When Pryvani felt sure they’d traveled far enough, she slowly sank back down, and knelt on the ground. She placed Dia carefully on the ground, and lay on her stomach, rather like a kid reading a book on a lazy afternoon. She kicked her feet into the air unconsciously, and cradled her chin in her hands, and looked down on Dia.

“Mayor Velos,” Pryvani said, “are you all right?”

Dia dusted herself off without really thinking about it. “Yes,” she said. “That was…interesting.”

“We have a machine that can give people my size the illusion that they are yours. I remember the first time Rixie Tam picked me up….well, that’s a story I probably shouldn’t get into with someone I just met. Suffice to say that I am sure it was frightening. You’re handling it bravely.”

Dia sat down on the ground, cross-legged; she leaned back, and stared up at the woman. “So,” Dia said, “what did you really want to talk about?”

Pryvani smiled. “You are as sharp as my husband told me you were. He sent me a message, last night. I understand you tried to get yourself arrested?”

Dia nodded. “And Epistratichos Avery said he wouldn’t punish me,” Dia said. “But if you’ve going to….”

Pryvani chuckled. “No, Mayor Velos. I am not. I told you, I’m not a goddess. And even if I were…I would be the last person who could stand in judgment of you. Not given my own history.”

Dia shook her head. “You seem very kind. I doubt you’ve done anything approaching what I’ve done.”

Pryvani Tarsuss was a master of hiding her emotions. It was rare – very rare – for any emotion to slip through that she did not want to slip through. With those she trusted – her friends, her husband, her sister – she would not hide her emotions. But even with them, she modulated them.

But just for a split-second, Dia Velos saw a flash of something wash across the face of Pryvani Tarsuss. It was a sadness that was deep and dark, a wave of regret and sorrow that few people would have recognized. But Dia did.

She had seen that look in the mirror more often than she cared to recall.

“My father,” Pryvani said, “was murdered when I was a bit younger than you are now. Well…it gets complicated. Our aging….”

She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. For all intents and purposes, I was probably as grown up as you were when you first found your village raided by the bandits.”

Dia stared up an the woman. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Why…who did it?”

“I wish I could say it was someone I didn’t know, but it wasn’t. My mother killed him. To be specific, she hired the people who did. My father had a great deal of money, and my mother wanted it. She thought that I would be too young to fight her, and she had a plan in place that would have taken virtually everything from me – including, I believe, my life.”

Dia looked at Pryvani, and she felt something she had not felt in some time. Horror.

“That’s awful,” she said. “I…what did you do?”

“I fought,” Pryvani said. “And I used every ruthless trick my mother had inadvertently taught me growing up. I bent rules, I worked with the scum of the galaxy, I did things I am not proud of. And I kept doing them, because even though I won the initial fight, my mother kept trying to make things difficult. Part of what she did to try to make my life miserable was to attack Avalon, and the humans who call this world home. She knew I had grown to care for you. She knew that I felt responsible for protecting you. She knew if she pushed me that I would make a mistake. And I did. My greatest failure. I told you the truth about myself.”

“That wasn’t a failure,” Dia said. “It was the right thing. You trusted us. We failed you.”

Pryvani laughed, bitterly. “No, Mayor. I didn’t trust you. I didn’t not trust you. I didn’t think. Trell Pria, a woman who worked for me, walked into Atlantis and caused a wave of destruction. Friends of mine – Trell’s sister, Brinn; Taron, who you’ve met; their friend Zara – they went into the town to try to help people, but that only confused the situation further. You had been told there was one goddess. Now there were gods and goddesses running amok. I knew that the situation had gone horribly wrong, but rather than take five minutes to think it through, I blurted out the truth.”

“But it was the truth,” Dia said. “Are you saying you should have kept lying?”

“No,” Pryvani said. “No, you deserved the truth, and I’m glad you know it. But what I should have done was prepare you for it. I should have made sure that you had a government in place, should have given the guard time to prepare for the unrest that was sure to follow. I should have broken it to you gently, introduced you to my friends and told you who they were, explained why you were here – then, and only then, should I have told you the truth. Instead, I just told you, and with no civil society to fall back on that was not based on the Laws of the Goddess, you did what any sentient species would have done – your society spiraled into chaos. And people died because of it. Many, many people. Good people, yes – but even the bad people, like Khalin, may have lived and thrived and led productive lives had not their foundations been pulled out from under them. Many thousands of people have died. And every one of those deaths is my fault. And that is only the beginning, Mayor. For many who survived, like you, had to do things that they did not want to do, that horrified them, that sickened them, because the alternative was even worse. Your failure is not your failure alone, Mayor. It is a natural consequence of my own. And so I cannot stand in judgment of you. You have far more right to judge me.”

Dia looked up at the woman, and said, “You didn’t intend for this to happen.”

“There is a marvelous human saying, Mayor: ‘The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.’ I could hardly have caused more damage if I tried.”

Dia shook her head. “No,” she said. “You could have. That woman – Zhan told us about a woman who tried to attack Atlantis, he said you fought her, in hand-to-hand combat.”

Pryvani nodded. “She died,” she said, quietly. “Zhan killed her, actually; she had swallowed him, and if he hadn’t had a grenade….”

“Then you would have kept fighting her, right? Would you have given up?”

Pryvani looked at the woman. “She would have had to kill me.”

Dia nodded. “You may not be a goddess,” she said, “but you are trying to protect us. And at least, unlike me, you haven’t tortured or murdered anyone.”

Pryvani gave Dia a thin smile. “There are things I have done, Mayor,” she said, “that make the worst of what you did look like a kindness. Like you, I have tried to make sure that those things hurt those who deserved the hurt. And like you…Mayor, when you tortured those bandits, it felt like a bit of you died, bit by bit, didn’t it.”

Dia looked at Pryvani, and she knew that this was not a question. Because the giant woman knew. She knew exactly what Dia had gone through.

“I wonder sometimes,” Mayor Velos said, “how much of my soul is left.”

Pryvani nodded. “I wonder the same thing. How much of my spirit have I lost? How much of the part of me which is good and decent is lost? I try to remember…if it was all lost, all of the goodness in me…I wouldn’t wonder.

“My mother doesn’t wonder. She’s imprisoned now, and will be for as long as she is alive. And she is outraged that she is imprisoned. But she has no regrets. She doesn’t wonder if she did the wrong thing. She is just upset that she got caught. I…I know I’ve done the wrong thing, more than once, even if it was for the right reason. As long as I can still know that, and know what I did was wrong – then I can get up in the morning and go on with it. Because for every mistake I’ve made, I’ve tried to atone. And I expect that when you return to Napata, you will make sure everyone is fed, you will repair the buildings and reopen the schools, you will welcome farmers with open arms, and you will try to make Avalon a better place. And it won’t make the bad things go away. But if you work hard enough…eventually, maybe, it will even out.”

Dia took a few steps forward, and rested her hand on the forearm of the titaness, staring up at her. She gave the woman a smile, and nodded. “And ma’am…you are helping me do that. And it won’t make your mistakes go away either…but for all the lives that have been lost, you’re helping me save 92 of them.”

Pryvani nodded, and blinked back tears. “So,” she said, quietly, “Are we agreed that we’ll both try to make things better from here on out, Mayor?”

“Yes,” Dia said.

Pryvani got up on her knees, and offered Dia her hand again. This time, she was ready for it, at least as much as she could be. As they began to walk back, Dia found herself saying something before she’d really had time to process it – but she didn’t regret it.

“Mrs. Tarsuss,” she said, “if you ever want to talk…you’re welcome in Napata anytime you want.”

Pryvani looked down. “Mayor Velos, you are welcome to visit me on the mountain, too. Just send word through the army, it will get to Zhan. But…well, I do insist on one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“My friends call me Pryvani,” she said.

“Okay, Pryvani. My friends call me Dia,” the mayor of Napata replied.

“Very well, Dia,” Pryvani said. “Let’s go help your people.”

* * *

All things considered, the remainder of the operation went smoothly.

Oh, the people of Napata were rather shocked to see two gods delivering building-sized care packages to their town. And they did not necessarily believe Pryvani or Taron when they declared that they weren’t actually gods after all, even though the news was not novel.

The people of Napata doubted Pryvani, they doubted Darren, they even doubted their own eyes. But they did not question Dia. They had trusted her with their lives, and she had brought them through.

Dia said they were not gods. And that was good enough for them.

“Mayor, you say they’re only bringing this one load. Why? Why can’t they just take care of us, after all we’ve been through?” one old woman asked, standing up to ask the question, despite the fact that she had to do so on her one leg and an improvised crutch.

“It would be easier, Brania. But what if they did? What would we be then? Why, we’d be nothing more than pets, wouldn’t we? Wards of our masters, babies cared for by their parents. I know, it has not been easy, and it will not be easy. But our neighbors have come down from the mountain to offer help. We can either depend on them to keep doing it, or we can take their help this once, and heal our town, and farm the land, and grow and prosper, and should the day come when our neighbors need our help…then we can return the favor.”

“What could they ever need from us?” a girl about Dia’s age asked, staring up rather intently at Taron.

Dia looked back; Pryvani was capable of answering, but she was letting Dia talk. She nodded. “There may be nothing we can give them that they cannot make themselves,” Dia said. “That’s true. But all of us have more to offer than that we can grow, or build, or repair. We can be their friends. We can support them in their times of trouble, as they have us. It doesn’t matter if we are able to bring them the same kind of bounty…we have been poor a long time, but we have shared with each other. We know that it is not the value of the gift, but the spirit behind it. If all we are able to do is tell our neighbors, when they struggle, that we struggle with them, that it matters to us, that we will do what we can…none of us can ask more of anyone. And they do not ask more of us. But to give what we can, we have to be people. We have to stand for ourselves. And we can. Napata, we have fought through hades; truly, were we destroyed tomorrow, it could not be worse than what we have endured. There is nothing we cannot stand against. Especially now that we are no longer alone.”

That brought a resounding cheer from the assembly, and Dia smiled, and began directing the healthy adults in offloading the supplies, and preparing to disburse them. They would not be given away all at once, and they would be spread out between multiple storerooms to protect them; it may not be necessary, but it had worked for them so far.

Lokagos Rire’s platoon put together the yurt that would serve as their temporary headquarters. They made ready to post their colors, but Darren told them to hold off until he could explain to the Mayor.

“It’s a symbol of Avalon,” he said. “All of Avalon. I know, not all of Avalon is under our control, and maybe some of those who left Atlantis will never want to be – and you don’t hafta be either. If you want to stay independent….”

“Goddess, no,” Dia said emphatically. “The sooner I can stop making decisions the better.”

“For you, maybe,” Darren said. “For your city? Mayor Velos, for their sake, I hope you stick around a while. And we’ll send information out about this fall’s elections.”

“Elections?”

“Way we’re governing ourselves. People get together, vote on who should be on the council. Your town will have votes on seven of the thirteen seats. We’ll get you information about how to vote, and what you should do if any of you want to be a candidate.”

“I doubt anyone would,” Dia said.

“Maybe not. But I can hope.”

Darren’s detachment headed back to Atlantis soon enough, though they were missing one member. Darren couldn’t blame him. He’d earned some leave, and besides, she’d promised to have him on the subterranean tram back to Avalon in time to meet them there. Sure, he’d be taking a shortcut…but he hadn’t seen his wife in weeks.

Dia watched them depart, Darren on the decaying high road, Pryvani and Taron and Zhan walking overland. She sighed as she leaned up against a building. There was much to do.

The small cry of a baby caused her to turn. She smiled at the woman carrying him. “How’s my nephew?” Dia said, taking the babe from Leedya.

“He missed you, sis,” Leedya said. “I did too. The bandits are really gone?”

Dia shrugged. “I don’t know. But we have soldiers to fight for us now. If there are bandits left, they will dispatch them. I have no doubt of that.”

“And what happens when the soldiers turn on us?”

Dia smiled. “Maybe they will, but I doubt it,” she said.

“That doesn’t sound like the girl who told us to trust nobody.”

“I can’t go through life not trusting anyone, Leedya,” Dia said, softly. “We can’t. Lusa can’t. At some point…if we are only just surviving, then there is no point in it. But if we have survived for a reason…someday, our children and grandchildren will hear of the bandits, and they will thank us for fighting them off…but they will never know what that meant. What we had to do. And the world will be a far better place, will it not?”

Leedya smiled, and put her arm around her sister’s shoulder. “It will,” Leedya said. “On the memories of our father, and mother, and brother, and my husband, let it be.”

Dia looked off into the distance, where the giants were just slipping below the horizon. And for the first time in her adult life, she felt truly at peace.