The air still crackled with heat and smoke, the remnants of the skirmish twisting upwards in faint, ghostly tendrils. The canyon was littered with bodies—some human, some Feral, and some that were somewhere in between. Snow's longshooter was slick in her hands, her shoulders heaving with each breath. But the blood-curdling howls that had filled the canyon moments ago were still coming. It will never stop, not until something is done quickly—
"Snow! Watch this!"
The voice came from Rain. Snow twisted her head just in time to see the girl sprinting toward one of the Easterners' wagons, her small figure weaving through the carnage with surprising determination.
"What are you doing?" Snow barked after her, but Rain didn't stop.
The Eastern Alliance wagons were a treasure trove of luxury goods, most of them untouched thanks to the guards' desperate defense. Rain flung herself into the cargo hold of one wagon and began rummaging through the crates. She emerged moments later with an armful of bottles—shroomshine, the mushroom-brewed liquor so potent it could peel paint.
Snow's eyes widened. "Rain, don't you—"
But Rain was already working. She tore strips of fabric from her own clothes, stuffing them into the necks of the bottles. Her hands shook, but there was a methodical determination in her movements, as if she had seen this done before—or read about it.
"Rain!" Snow shouted again, more urgently this time. "What are you—"
Rain struck a match and lit the first bottle, the cloth wick igniting in a small, angry flame. Without hesitation, she hurled it toward an approaching group of Ferals and Chasers. The bottle smashed against the rocks at their feet, and the shroomshine caught fire instantly. A ball of flame erupted, spreading across the ground in a hungry wave.
The Ferals recoiled, their snarls turning to shrieks. Even the Chasers yelped and backed away, tails between their legs. For all their savagery, they were still animals—and animals feared fire.
Rain didn't stop. She lit another bottle and threw it, then another. Each one burst into flames, creating a wall of fire that drove back the attackers. The canyon walls reflected the light, making the flames seem larger, more menacing.
Snow stared, stunned. The other defenders, Niners and Easterners alike, watched in disbelief as the Ferals and Chasers hesitated, their frenzied assault faltering.
"It's working!" someone shouted.
Sensing the shift in momentum, Snow raised her longshooter. "Drive them back!" she yelled.
The defenders rallied, their fear giving way to anger and determination. Gunfire cracked through the air, and blades flashed in the firelight. The Ferals, confused and disoriented, fell in droves. The Chasers, no longer emboldened by their masters, turned and fled.
And then it was over.
The last Feral let out a choking gurgle as it collapsed, its crude stone axe slipping from its fingers. The surviving convoy members stood in the smoky aftermath, their weapons still raised, as if expecting another wave of attackers. But none came.
Snow lowered her longshooter, her legs trembling as the adrenaline began to fade. She turned to Rain, who was still clutching one of the shroomshine bottles, her face flushed from exertion.
"What... what did you just do?" Snow asked, her voice a mix of incredulity and awe.
Rain grinned, though it was a nervous, uncertain grin. "It's a firebanger," she said, holding up the bottle. "Something like a fire bomb. I read about them once. Alcohol is flammable, and liquor is alcohol, so I thought..." She trailed off, shrugging. "It worked, didn't it?"
Snow opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, heavy footsteps approached. Bricks and Flint marched toward them, their faces dark and unreadable.
"Well, well," Bricks growled, his tone sharp enough to cut stone. "Look at our little Knower, saving the day."
Rain beamed "Look! Bricks, I finally can be of use! A Knower like me—"
Her words are cut short as Bricks' hand shoots out, striking Rain across the face with a loud crack. The force of the slap sent her stumbling backward, and she dropped the bottle she was holding.
"Rain!" Snow shouted, stepping forward, but Bricks held up a hand to stop her.
"What the hell was that for?" Snow demanded, her voice low and dangerous.
Bricks ignored her, his attention fixed on Rain, who was clutching her cheek, wide-eyed and stunned. "You used the cargo without permission," he said coldly. He turned to Flint, who was standing behind him with his arms crossed. "I apologize on her behalf. We'll make sure the rest of the cargo is accounted for. She won't touch anything again."
Flint glanced at the wagons, then at Rain. His face was pale, his hands still trembling from the battle. "Fine," he muttered. "Just... make sure it doesn't happen again."
Rain's lower lip quivered, but she said nothing.
The other Niners began to murmur amongst themselves, their voices carrying a mixture of frustration and scorn.
"She's more trouble than she's worth," one said.
"She'll get us all killed," muttered another.
"She should've stayed in her little library."
Snow's fists clenched. "Enough!" she barked, silencing the murmurs. She rounded on Bricks, her eyes blazing. "You don't get to treat her like that! She just saved all our lives!"
"She used the cargo," Bricks said flatly. "And now Flint's going to dock our pay because of it. Do you understand what that means, Snow? The contract is already half-ruined thanks to her little stunt."
"Half the convoy is dead!" Snow shot back. "And you still worried about a few bottles of shroomshine—!?"
"Snow, it's fine," Rain said softly, cutting her off.
Snow turned to her, frowning. "It's not fine."
Rain smiled weakly, though her voice trembled. "Really, it's fine. I just... I wanted to help."
Snow's heart ached at the sight of her, trying so hard to keep up her usual cheerfulness despite the tears glistening in her eyes.
The rest of the convoy began to regroup, tending to the wounded, counting the dead, and salvaging what they could from the wreckage. Bricks and Flint moved away, muttering to each other, while the Niners avoided looking directly at Rain.
Snow stayed close to her, watching as the girl quietly helped patch up a wounded guard.
When the convoy finally began to move again, leaving the Brownstone Canyon behind, Snow cast one last look at the rocky cliffs. The fires had died out, leaving only charred remains and scorched earth.
Rain walked beside her, silent but determined, her gaze fixed on the road ahead.
————————————————————————————————————————————
The long fight is over, but there is no celebration, no joy, just plain silence.
The convoy stopped not long after leaving the gruesome scene. The camp at the edge of the canyon was a shadow of its former self. Where once there had been bawdy laughter, drunken song, and dice clattering against the dirt, now there was only the subdued crackle of campfires and the muted shuffling of the survivors. The wagons were circled as always, the guards posted as always, but the life had gone out of the convoy.
Men and women hunched over their bowls of gruel, eating in silence, heads bowed as if they feared speaking might invite another attack. The scars of the skirmish were fresh, not only on their bodies but in their minds. No one had forgotten the guttural howls of the Ferals or the way their bloodlust had echoed through the canyon walls. Even the horses were jumpy, their ears twitching at every stray sound.
Rain sat on a rock far from the main camp, her small figure barely visible in the firelight. She had chosen her spot deliberately, a little farther away than usual, not so far as to be in the dark, but enough to make it clear she wasn't welcome—or didn't want to be. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her fingers toyed idly with a loose thread on her tunic.
Snow found her there, balancing two wooden bowls in her hands, their contents steaming faintly. She walked quietly, her boots crunching on the gravel, but Rain didn't look up until she was standing beside her.
"Brought you something," Snow said, holding out one of the bowls.
Rain blinked at it, her face flickering with confusion. "Is that... rice?"
"Porridge," Snow clarified, sitting down beside her and setting her own bowl in her lap. "Cooked with some of that fancy rice the Easterners are hauling. Flint said we could use a little from the cargo. A morale boost, apparently."
Rain hesitated before taking the bowl. "I didn't think we were allowed to touch the cargo anymore." Her voice was soft, almost apologetic, and she avoided Snow's eyes.
Snow scowled. "Bricks wasn't happy about it, of course. He tried to argue that you shouldn't get any as part of your so-called punishment, but Flint overruled him. First smart thing he's done in days."
Rain managed a small smile but didn't respond. She dipped her spoon into the porridge and took a cautious bite.
Snow watched her for a moment before speaking again. "You shouldn't just let him treat you like that."
Rain glanced at her. "Bricks is the leader. He has to make decisions for the group. It's not personal."
"Not personal?" Snow's voice rose slightly, and she leaned closer. "Rain, they're treating you like a leper just because you're a Knower. They're all about 'looking out for their own,' but apparently, that doesn't include you anymore. You saved their lives back there, and all they can do is spit on you for it."
Rain shook her head. "They're scared, Snow. The Ferals, the Chasers, all of it—it's shaken them. And now they know the Crimson Legion is hunting people like me. They're just afraid of what having me around might bring."
Snow's hands tightened around her bowl. "So what? That's not an excuse to treat you like dirt. Dug tried to hide behind you like a coward, and now he's whispering to anyone who'll listen that you're bad luck. I punched him, by the way. Not sorry about it."
Rain's eyes widened. "Snow, you didn't—"
"I did." Snow's tone was firm. "I don't regret it, either. Someone had to shut him up."
Rain sighed, her shoulders slumping. "You can't keep doing this. If you make too many enemies in the Niners, they'll turn on you too. I don't want that to happen. I don't want you to lose your place here because of me."
"Maybe I don't care about my place here anymore," Snow shot back. "If it comes down to choosing between this sorry bunch and keeping you safe, I'll leave. Simple as that."
Rain looked at her, startled, but before she could reply, the crunch of approaching footsteps drew their attention.
Flint emerged from the gloom, his coat dusty and torn but his posture still commanding. Snow stiffened instinctively, her hand hovering near the knife at her belt.
"I'm not here to fight," Flint said quickly, raising his hands. "Just wanted to talk."
Snow narrowed her eyes but didn't move. "Talk about what?"
Flint hesitated, glancing between the two of them. "About earlier. About... how I've been acting."
Rain tilted her head, puzzled.
Flint sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't fair to either of you. Snow, I should've trusted your judgment from the start. You've proven more than once that you know what you're doing. And Rain..." He hesitated again, his expression flickering with something like guilt. "I owe you an apology. I was... dismissive of you, just because you're a Knower. But you saved us back there. What you did back then... it was brave. Stupid, maybe, but brave. And we're alive because of it."
Rain blinked, clearly taken aback. "Oh. Um... thank you."
"I mean it," Flint continued. "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry for how we've treated you. You didn't deserve it, and I'm... impressed, honestly, that you're still trying to help us after everything."
He paused, looking uncomfortable, as if he wasn't used to apologizing. "Anyway. If you need anything—when we reach the destination or even before that—you can count on me. I'll make sure you're not left out in the cold."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the two of them sitting in stunned silence.
Snow was the first to speak. "Well, that was unexpected."
Rain stared after Flint, a small smile forming on her lips. "Maybe he's not so bad after all."
Snow frowned. "You're letting him off the hook that easily?"
Rain's smile widened. "Why not? He apologized, didn't he? And he meant it."
Snow huffed, crossing her arms. "Still doesn't make up for everything else."
Rain glanced at her, her expression softening. "Snow... thank you. For standing up for me. It means a lot."
Snow looked away, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Yeah, well. Someone has to."
Rain giggled, her usual cheerfulness starting to return. Snow couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Flint's words had done more to lift Rain's spirits in a few minutes than all of Snow's efforts had in days.
But she pushed the feeling aside. Rain was smiling again, and that was what mattered. For now.