Rworg shouts, a bellow that shakes the trees. He falls to the side, his leg giving away under him. The huge sword falls down next to him, as he starts to crawl.

Finna's legs buckle, and she drops on her knees.

Mandollel's slender sword pierces through her, the hilt almost touching her chest. Her mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out. She raises a hand to touch the hilt with one finger.

I drop my bow on the ground. The world is quiet, like after a terrible scream. No breath comes, my chest feels like I've been kicked by a horse. I reach out my hand as Finna falls on her face. The blade of the sword jerks as she falls on the hilt.

Blood pumps out like a geyser for a final time. The stain on her back spreads fast. The blade flickers and disappears. Her body settles on the hilt, now that she's no longer pinned by the blade.

Rworg leaves a trail of blood on the ground of his own as he crawls, but he reaches her first. His howl cuts through the shocked silence, the only sound in the whole world. He rolls her on her back and grasps the hilt, slick with blood. Rworg throws the hilt away somewhere into the forest with a scream.

I stumble next to him and drop on my knees. I grasp for the waterskin of teratome blood on my belt. My fingers are too numb to untangle the knots, but I manage to wrap my fingers around the whole waterskin and wrench it off, snapping the cords.

"Enough?" Rworg asks.

I don't answer. I have no idea. Her face is pale, still. One eye open, other closed. Her chest doesn't move, only the stain spreads and blood flows on the ground through Rworg's fingers on her back. I pour what is left on the wound. There's so little. A few mouthfuls. The liquid spreads and mixes with the blood, but also trickles into the wound, like it knows where it's needed.

The flow of blood thins, then stops. She jerks once, a memory of a heartbeat. I squeeze the waterskin. Few more droplets of the liquid drip out.

"The elf had the rest," Rworg says. "Go."

I bounce up, blood thrumming in my ears. He had the last waterskin. I don't hesitate a moment before crossing to the Kertharian side of the border. The forest is exactly like it has been. The birds sing, wind rustles in the trees. The smell of ozone has blown into the sky, dark and full of stars again. The auroras are gone, sucked in and burned away by the device.

Only Mandollel stands in place, hand reached out, face twisted. Still. Frozen.

The waterskin dangles on his belt. Up close, his face looks even scarier than from afar. I can see every muscle popping out, frozen mid-ripple under his skin. He has been standing here the whole time, but I still wait for him to suddenly come alive, grab me by the throat, or start screaming.

He doesn't.

"Hurry!" Rworg bellows.

I crouch next to Mandollel and touch the slightly fuzzy leather surface of the waterskin. Shivers run down my arm the moment I do. The surface feels like ground glass, the tiny hairs and naps of the leather immobile and stiff, unmoving under my finger. I ignore the feeling and grab it with both hands, pulling hard.

Mandollel leans slightly to the side by my pull. The waterskin stays stuck on his belt. It doesn't budge at all. A stone, a sculpture, frozen in time with him.

Rworg is crying, tears flowing down his face. I am too. We crouch next to her still body. The bleeding has stopped, but there are no signs of life. I don't know how long we have been there. What does it matter? I've bandaged Rworg's leg. Without anything to heal it with, it will take a long time to heal, but at least he shouldn't bleed out. He cradled Finna's corpse and didn't even grunt as I pulled the bandages tight, just kept sobbing.

A flock of birds flies across the sky, above us. They screech and honk, untouched by anything that has happened on the ground.

Mandollel stays frozen, a statue in time. I wonder if moss will grow on him at some point. I might be sad for him too, one day. At the moment, I have nothing left to grieve for him. In a way, what happened to him is probably worse than what happened to Finna. If he ever recovers, he will never forgive himself.

I'm not sure I will, either. Even if it will be 30 years.

Finna looks almost like she's sleeping. The teratome blood closed the hole in her chest, and she's not bleeding anymore. There's no pulse, no breath. She's still warm, face pale, eyes gently closed.

Sound of hooves reaches my ears. I blink the tears from my eyes and swallow. Whoever it is, they are riding their horse hard. Too hard for such a small path.

What now? After all this. What now?

Whoever is coming, they have less than a fraction of a second to show they are friendly before I shoot them in the throat. My fingers itch. I know it won't help, won't make a hint of difference, but I feel like shooting something. I've cried and shouted my throat raw, there's nothing left. Only terror of accepting what happened, rage and sorrow enough for it feel like my heart is being crushed. Is this how the Kertharians felt? She was one of us. He was one of us. Now…

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The horse thunders into view. On the saddle is a rider, wearing thick leather traveling gear, muddy and soaked through. Before the horse is stopped, he throws his leg over the horse's back, so he's standing on one stirrup. "Folke, it's me!" The voice is familiar—a dry drone, now breathless and urgent.

He falls backward from the horse, landing on his side. The horse whinnies and steps around the path. Steam rises off its body. I can feel the warmth radiate off it even from where I'm standing.

Lictor pushes himself off the ground, swipes the thin, dark hairs off his face. "Where's the device?" he shouts, head swiveling around. "We can use it to help her, but only if you help me find it. You've wasted enough time already." He's out of breath, snappy, worried, angry. I don't know. There's more emotion on his face than I've ever seen.

He notices the device with a small ah sound and runs to it. Rworg wipes his face and places Finna down on the ground. "Janitor! What is the meaning of this?" He pushes himself up, putting as little weight as possible on his injured leg.

Lictor has some kind of tool in his hand, and he cranks open the panel on top of the device. The Time Gem shines from within, lighting up his face from below. He looks as I remember. Small dark eyes deep in his head, meaty lips, flabby neck. He plunges his hand into the device, closing his hand around the gem.

I march over to him and grab his shoulder, pull him up. "Why are you here? Can you do something?"

He pushes me out of his way, moving towards Finna. "Yes, I can. Stand back, you two."

Rworg hesitates. I go to him, let him lean on my shoulder. He throws me a look, face streaked with salt, eyes glistening.

I shake my head. I have no idea what to say, but there's very little to lose. Anything that happened, what he did, what he tried to do—it doesn't matter. If there's hope, I'm clinging to it. The world might have been shaken, the destiny of a whole continent changed by what we did, but it's really hard to remember that as I watch Lictor kneel beside her still body.

"The ambrosia you used bought her some time. I'm going to lend the rest," he says. The Gem is in his hand, flickering and glimmering in its impossible depth. Blue light gathers around Lictor's hand and swirls around the Gem. He pinches at the light with two fingers and draws out a thread, stretching it out carefully. The thread sparks, and he flinches every time a spark hits his hand or face.

We watch. Below the shock and broiling anger and despair, hope lifts its head. He wouldn't be here for nothing. Lictor's face is tense, all of his focus on what he's doing. He looks older. I start as I realize his clothes are ordinary. No runes, no fancy cloak.

Lictor stretches his hand out, and the strand separates from the Gem. It trails after his pinched fingers, riding in the air, blue and white and shifting in color. He shoves the Gem into his pocket and lays the strand on Finna, placing his fingers on it.

The light spreads and grows in intensity, hiding Finna's body from view. Lictor leans both palms on the light and twists his face away from it, squeezing his eyes shut against the brilliance.

I raise my arm to block the light. Rworg grunts and turns his face away as well. He leans heavily on me.

The light winks out. It resembles what happened when the device froze Kerthar. Afterimages float and cover most of my vision. Lictor sighs and falls backward, crumpling like a puppet who has had his strings cut.

Rworg knocks on Finna's forehead with his knuckles. The sound resembles knocking on metal, a sharp thwack.

"Is that really necessary?" Lictor asks. He's conscious again, laying his head in his hands and massaging his temples like he has a headache.

Rworg is about to knock again, but stops his fist. "What did you do, Janitor?"

He doesn't look up, only mutters from below his hands. "What you did to the Kertharians, but only on a much smaller scale. Still nearly damn well squeezed me dry."

We're sitting in a circle around Finna. She's stiff as a board. Not like someone who has been dead for a while, but like Mandollel. I touch her hair, and it feels like being pricked by a dozen needles at the same time. One of the hairs pierces deep into my finger, but the wound is so small, it doesn't even bleed. Hurts like damn, though.

Lictor's face is different. He's pale, but that's not the main difference. When he raises his face, his eyes flick around, taking in everything that is going on.

Rworg reaches out to grab Lictor's shoulder, shaking it. "She is frozen? Why?"

"To buy you time. I knew I could make it… I had a debt to pay." He looks directly at Rworg when speaking, and even his speech sounds different. He mumbles, and searches for words, instead of reciting everything with total confidence.

"You're no longer a Janitor, are you?" I ask him.

"No, but I'm still an envoy of Tenorsbridge. Still, first, let me congratulate you for your accomplishment. Truly, you have—"

Rworg and I both wave him quiet. Yes, we did do it. No, it doesn't matter. Maybe later, but at the moment I have no patience for ceremonies or posturing.

Lictor licks his lips, looking from me to Rworg. "You must have so many questions, and I will answer all of them."

I scoff. I remember him saying something very similar back in the very beginning. He looks at me with a frown, like he doesn't know why I'm scoffing. Maybe he doesn't. Or maybe he does? "Why are you here?" It comes out sounding more bitter than I meant, but not any less than I feel.

"They said that I would be the perfect person to handle this," he says. "You will listen to me, at the end. Is what they told me to say to you." He scoffs as well, his lips twisting into a lopsided smile.

He's just a pawn, just like we were. And yet, how can I trust anything that he says?

Lictor leans back to rest on his arms, palms to the ground. "I killed a horse to get here as soon as possible. I'm offering you a chance to save her."

"What do you need?" Rworg asks. He doesn't hesitate before saying it. "Am I not right? There is something you require, not-a-Janitor."

"Not me. All of Velonea."

I bury my head in my hands.

Of course. This was the way it started the last time.

Still, it doesn't matter. "What is it?" I groan.

I hear him shuffling, smacking as he licks his lips again. I hope he at least understands to be ashamed. "What you did with the stakes had more of an effect than anyone anticipated. Everything is in chaos. Tenorsbridge asks you to intervene on their behalf."

Why us? What do we need to do? Didn't we do enough… My thoughts are slapped aside as Rworg claps me on the back. I squeak as my breath comes out in a blast.

"What is another adventure, to us!" he says.

"And it will help her?" I ask, moving my shoulder blades to ease the tingling where Rworg slapped me.

Lictor looks directly at me. His face is serious. "It's her best and only chance. No ordinary measures will be enough. There's a—"

"Stop. Enough," I say. "Fine."

His face lights up. Rworg harrumphs and nods, even if the bandages on his leg are already soaked through with blood.

What's another adventure, indeed? This was what I hoped for, such a long time ago. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than what we've already been through.

If it means saving her, we'll just have to save Velonea too. Again.

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