someone should remain behind with them. You should. We shouldn’t leave the ship unguarded.”
Runner clambered to his feet, his eyes boring holes into Soldier. “You dare question her?”
“Shut your mouth,” Soldier said. Runner snarled.
“The ship is irrelevant,” Seer said. “We’re not taking it when we leave this world.”
For a moment Soldier could not frame a reply. He feared Seer was succumbing to madness, too, and he was profoundly conscious of the anger pouring off Runner.
Seer smiled at him, as if reading his thoughts.
When he spoke, he kept his tone even. “What ship are we taking, then?”
“The medical supply ship that will be arriving at the hospital,” she said.
Runner rocked on the balls of his feet, as if the power within him disallowed stillness, as if he could barely control whatever impulse sought expression. He still glared at Soldier.
“How do you know about a supply ship?” Soldier asked.
“The Force. Mother.”
“Blessed Mother,” Runner muttered, still rocking.
Seer’s eyes searched Soldier’s face. He thought she looked almost sad. “Do you believe, Soldier? Do you believe me?”
Soldier felt Runner’s burning eyes on him, the heat of his fever, his faith. His thoughts turned to Wry, the way the others had torn him apart, and he shifted his weight to distribute it evenly. If he had to draw his weapon, he’d need to be fast.
“You know what I believe,” he said.
She leaned in, smiling, all danger and beauty. “Yes, I do.”
“You’ve been right so far,” he said.
She smiled, nodded. “We take everyone who can still be saved. The rest we must leave. Their faith, sadly, was inadequate to save them.”
“They can all still be saved,” Soldier said. “We’re not leaving the children.”
“I know you love them,” Seer said. “It speaks well of you. But Blessing and Gift are almost gone. They cannot be saved. Only Grace will live to see Mother.”
“You’re wrong,” Soldier said. His hand went to his lightsaber hilt. He would kill Runner if he had to. But would he kill Seer? Could he?
“I’m not wrong,” Seer said. “And you know it. These were Mother’s words, Soldier. Do you doubt them?”
Soldier did not look away, but neither did he dare dispute with her. “I’m giving each of them an adrenaline shot. If they rouse, they come.”
Seer smiled. “That is acceptable.”
“I don’t need your permission,” Soldier said.
Runner growled, and Soldier whirled on him, went nose to nose. “Something you want to say? Or do?”
Runner stared at him with bloodshot eyes, his breath foul, his breathing heavy.
“See to your shots, Soldier,” Seer said. “It will be as I said.”
Soldier left off Runner, found the adrenaline hypos from among their supplies.
“I’ll give it to the children.” He tossed some hypos to Runner. “You give it to the others.”
Runner looked to Seer for guidance, and she said, “Do as he says.”
Soldier went to Blessing. Her thin blond hair hung over a face that was too pale. He wasn’t sure she was breathing. He pulled her to him, listened for a heartbeat, and did not hear one. He took her tiny hands in his. They seemed so frail, so fragile. His eyes welled and he pulled her close. She was already cooling.
“Goodbye,” he said, thinking of her smile.
“She is already gone,” Seer said. “She has gone to Mother.”
“Shut up,” Soldier said, swallowing his sobs. “Shut your mouth.”
“I sense your pain,” Seer said gently. “I’m sorry, Soldier.”
Soldier checked Gift, found that he had succumbed also. Soldier stared into his face a long while. He had pinned his hopes—unfocused, inchoate hope, with no goal or particular aspiration, but hope nonetheless—on the children.
Vain. Useless.
He did not bother to wipe his tears. He left them on his face as a testament to his grief.
“What test of faith did he fail, Seer? What test? He was just a boy.”
Seer did not answer him.
Dull and unfeeling, he went to Grace. When he found her alive, it was as if he had been resurrected. His tears redoubled.
“She’s alive,” he said, excited. With a shaking hand, he injected the adrenaline, and she gasped, inhaled deeply.
Relief flooded him as he watched her lungs rise and fall. He grabbed her up, hugged her close.
“Two-Blade is nearly gone,” Runner said from behind him. “Hunter seems better.”
“Leave Two-Blade,” Seer said. “Blessing and Gift, too. Bring Hunter.”
“No,” Soldier said, and whirled on her. “We’re not abandoning the children.”
“They’re not your children,” Runner said.
“They’re our children,” Soldier spat over his shoulder. “Seer?”
“They have gone to Mother,” Seer said. “Their bodies are irrelevant.”
“To you,” Soldier said.
“To them,” Seer answered. “We must move quickly, Soldier.