I walk through the singing until I find myself at the paddock of the battlemores.

Battlemores.

They were always creatures of legend to me, seen only in the voices of the Burden as I grew, in dreams and tales and histories of the war that left us with the Clearing. I half-believed they were fantasies, exaggerated monsters that either did not exist at all or would be grave disappointments in the flesh.

I was wrong. They are magnificent. Huge and white, except when covered in clay battle armour. Even without it, their hides are thick and formed into hard plates. They are nearly as wide as I am tall, with a broad back that can easily be stood upon, the Land using the traditional foot saddles to stay upright.

The Sky’s steed is biggest of all. The horn that thrusts up from its nose is longer than my entire body. It also has a rare secondary horn as well, one that only grows on the leader of the herd.

Return, it shows as I approach the paddock fence. The only word of the Burden it knows, taught it by the Sky, no doubt. Return, it shows, and it is gentle, welcoming. I reach out and place a hand in the space between its horns, rubbing gently with my fingers. It closes its eyes with pleasure.

That is a weakness of the Sky’s steed, shows the Sky, coming up behind me. No, do not stop.

Is there news? I show, taking my hand away. Have you made a decision?

He sighs at my impatience. The Clearing’s weapons are stronger than ours, he shows. If there are more, the Land will die in waves.

They have already killed thousands these years past. They will kill thousands more even if we do nothing.

We will continue with our original plan, the Sky shows. We have shown our new strength and driven them back. We control the river which deprives them of water and lets them know we can drown them at any moment should we release it all at once. And now, we will see how they respond.

I stand up straighter, my voice rising. “See how they respond”? What possible good can–?

I stop, as a thought comes, a thought that stops all other thoughts.

You do not mean, I show, stepping forward. You cannot mean that you will see if they offer a peaceful solution–

He shifts his stance. The Sky has never shown that.

You promised they would be destroyed! I show. Does the slaughter of the Burden mean nothing to you?

Calm yourself, he shows and for the first time, his voice is commanding me. I will take your counsel and experience, but I will do what is best for the Land.

What was best once before was leaving the Burden behind! As slaves!

We were a different Land then, he shows, under a different Sky and with different skills and weapons. We are better now. Stronger. We have learned much.

And yet you would still make peace–

I have not shown that either, young friend. His voice is growing calmer, more soothing. But there are more vessels coming, are there not?

I blink at him.

You have told us this. You heard it yourself in the voice of the Knife. There is a convoy of vessels coming with more weapons like the one fired today. These things must be taken into account for the long-term life of the Land.

I do not respond. I keep my voice to myself.

And so, for now, we will move the body of the Land into an advantageous position and we will wait. The Sky walks to his steed and scratches its nose. They will soon find they cannot live without water. They will make their move, and even if it involves another weapon like today’s, we will be ready for it. He turns to me. And the Return will not be disappointed.

As dusk turns to night, we return to the Sky’s own campfire. And as the Land and the Sky turn towards sleep, as the Clearing makes no move below us to attack again, I layer my voice to obscure it like I learned from a lifetime with the Clearing, and within it, I examine two things.

Mutually assured destruction, showed the Sky.

Convoy, showed the Sky.

Words in the language of the Burden, words in the language of the Clearing.

But a phrase I do not know. A word I have never used.

Words that are not from the long memory of the Land.

They are new words. I could almost smell the freshness on them.

As the night pulls in and the siege of the Clearing begins, that is what I keep hidden in my voice.

The Sky left me today, to be alone, as the Sky occasionally does. It is a need of the Sky, of any Sky.

But he returned with new words.

So where did he hear them?

{VIOLA}

“I thought you were hit,” I say, putting my head in my hands. “I saw one of those things hitting a horse and a rider and I thought it was you.” I look back up at him, tired and shivery. “I thought they’d killed you, Todd.”

He opens his arms and I press into him and he holds onto me, just holds onto me while I cry. We’re sitting next to a fire the Mayor’s built in the square, where the army’s making its new camp, the less than half of it that’s left after the attack of the spinning fires.

The attack that stopped after I fired a missile.

I came racing down on Acorn immediately after the blast, riding through the square, shouting Todd’s name until I found him. And there he was, his Noise still shocked and even more blurry from another battle, but alive.

Alive.

Something I changed the whole world to make sure of.

“I’d have done the same,” Todd says into my head.

“No, you don’t understand.” I pull away a little bit. “If they’d hurt you, if they’d killed you . . .” I swallow hard. “I’d have killed every last one of them.”

“I’d do the same, Viola,” he says again. “Without even thinking twice.”

I wipe my nose with my sleeve. “I know, Todd,” I say. “But does that make us dangerous?”

Even through the blur, his Noise gets a confused feeling to it. “How do you mean?”

“Bradley keeps saying war can’t be personal,” I say. “But I dragged them into this war because of you.”

“They’d have had to do something eventually, if they’re half as nice as you say–”

My voice rises. “But I gave them no choice–”

“Stop it.” And he pulls me to him again.

“Everything all right?” the Mayor says, coming over to us.

“Go away,” Todd says.

“At least allow me to say thank you to Viola–”

“I said–”

“She saved our lives, Todd,” he says, standing a bit too close. “With one simple action, she changed everything. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that.”

And in Todd’s arms, I go really still.

“Leave us alone,” I hear Todd say. “Now.”

There’s a pause and then the Mayor says, “Very well, Todd. I’ll be over here if you need me.”

I look up at Todd as the Mayor leaves. “If you need me?”

Todd shrugs. “He coulda just let me die. It woulda made things easier for him if I wasn’t hanging around. But he didn’t. He saved me.”

“He’ll have a reason,” I say. “And not a good one.”

Todd doesn’t answer, just takes a long look at the Mayor, who’s talking to his men but watching us, too.

“Your Noise is still hard to read,” I say. “Even more than before.”

Todd’s eyes don’t quite meet mine. “It was the battle,” he says. “All that screaming–”

And I hear something, deep in his Noise, something about a circle–

“But are you okay?” he asks. “You don’t look good, Viola.”

And now I’m the one who turns away, and I realize I’m unconsciously pulling my sleeve down. “Lack of sleep,” I say.

But it’s a weird moment, like there’s something not quite truthful hanging in the air for both of us.