I kick him in the butt.

His arms windmill two, three times, and then he drops in a tangle of arms and legs. Because the distance is minimal, his splash is weak, albeit greater than his predecessors’. I follow him into the water, timing my jump so that the slight wave I cause hits him in the face just as he comes up for air.

Spluttering and wiping at his eyes as if they’ve been sprayed with Mace, he blubbers, “That was mature.”

“From the king of maturity himself,” I say, laughing.

Ben bobs up next to us. “Guys, I know it’s hard for you, but let’s try to take the next ten minutes seriously. This may be the most dangerous part of our journey.”

My face feels warm as I wish I hadn’t let Adele’s father down already. I have to do better. But it was fun.

Roc wipes the final drop of moisture out of his eyes and smirks at me. “Can’t you ever be serious?” he says.

“It’s not in my nature,” I say.

Ben and Elsey are already across the moat and scrambling up the rocks on the other side.

“C’mon,” I say, using the palm of my hand to splash Roc in the face. He lunges at me, but I am already gone, swimming underwater to the other side. I clamber out and wait for him. His slow and steady doggie paddle turns a thirty-second trip into two minutes.

When he gets to the edge, I reach out to help him up, tensing my muscles in case he tries something. He doesn’t. Instead, once on the rock slab outside the city, he says, “Nice one.” I don’t believe that he means it. His dark eyes are already plotting his revenge.

Rather than sneaking into the city to the train station like I expect, Ben and Elsey are working their way around the city, sticking tight to the edge of the bending reservoir. They are holding hands and she’s skipping along gaily, as if we are just out for an evening stroll. Again, the difference between Adele and her sister is stark. Roc and I begin a light jog to catch up.

As we walk, I admire the beauty of this subchapter, nicknamed Waterfall Cave for obvious reasons: Waterfalls of various heights and shapes spill down the sides of the enormous cavern, providing everlasting life to the reservoir and sustaining the city.

Strangely, there are no windows on the outside of any of the buildings along the city perimeter. Instead, bare rock stands like a fortress, sometimes rising ten stories high on heavy stone blocks. Maybe the occupants don’t want to see the beauty of the waterfalls, as they prefer to numb themselves with negativity. I don’t blame them—can’t blame them. I might do the same if I were them. I look away from the falls, feeling bad that I ever enjoyed their beauty.

As we approach the end of each city block, Ben slows and peeks around the corner and down the cross street. No one is out. I wonder what happened to everyone. Many would have died at the hands of star dweller bombs, but there would have been survivors, too, like us. I hope the star dwellers are treating them kindly, but I fear they are not. War brings out the worst in people.

We make it five blocks before Ben stops and turns around, his green eyes appearing gray under the dusky lights. “One more block and we head back into the water. Follow me exactly and don’t ask any questions.” I have a few questions, but I hold them in. Despite having only just met this man, I trust him. His quiet, calm demeanor is a welcome change from my father’s ruthless and anger-filled outbursts.

The final block flashes by and we approach another cross street. Ben takes his standard peek around the corner and then motions us to follow. We are halfway across the gap in the buildings when a throaty sneeze shatters the silence. Ben and I turn at the same time to see Roc standing frozen in place, eyes wide and white, his hand over his nose and mouth.

“C’mon,” I hiss. “Don’t just stand there.”

Too late.

We hear a shout from the city. I whirl around to see a half-dozen troops wearing sky-blue uniforms with bright yellow star insignias patched on the shoulders running toward us. Star dwellers. They have guns and we are sitting ducks.

Roc cries out and starts running. I wait for him to pass me before I chase after him, preferring to defend the rear. Maybe I’m not a born leader like Ben, but I can fight.

We get around the building without being shot at, probably because the troops know they can pick us off one by one on the open slab between the city and reservoir. Pushing Roc and Elsey behind him, Ben barks, “Tristan—I’ll take the first three, you get the last three.” I jerk my head down in a quick nod. He knows what I can do, and I know what he is capable of. But we still need a miracle.

Although we haven’t run far, I can already feel the heat of the adrenaline pumping through my veins. My muscles are tense and slightly shaky, but not in a bad way. I am ready. I was born for this. I’ve trained for this all my life. This is our world. I slide my sword out of its sheath.

It’s not always good to be fast. The fastest star dweller trooper rounds the bend first, wrongly assuming that we are still running out in front of him. Before the guy has any idea what’s happening, Ben’s knee is thrust in his midsection and he’s sprawled out on the rock, wheezing. The next one should be more prepared, but she’s not, and evidently Ben has no qualms about hitting a girl, particularly when she’s carrying a gun and trying to kill us. He takes her head off with an uppercut that will leave her senseless for hours. I am starting to think he might take out all six on his own.

But he runs into trouble on the third trooper, who realizes something isn’t right. Rather than barreling around the corner like his friends, this guy leads with the black nozzle of his gun, which is blindly pointed right into Ben’s chest. With a grunt, Ben grabs the nozzle and thrusts it downwards at his feet. The guy pulls the trigger.

Boom!

As close as I am to the gun, its roar echoes in my ears, momentarily deafening me. However, I don’t need to see Ben’s face to know he’s hit. His mouth is agape and his eyes are closed as he continues to grapple with the guy with the gun. Even in the dim lighting I can make out the glossy sheen of blood spilling from his leg.

I have to help him.

I don’t have time.

The final three troops—my responsibility—charge around the corner after hearing the gunshot. Two girls, one guy. Despite the favorable gender ratio, I don’t relax. I’ve seen what Adele can do. Perhaps there are other moon and star dweller women who are similarly capable. Perhaps they are all that capable. Probably not—Adele is amazing—but still, I don’t underestimate these women.

They are all in a cluster—one in front, two on either side and behind—which is good for me. It makes them a single target rather than three. The one in front wants to shoot me. She takes aim at my head while running at me. I anticipate the explosion and dive for the stone slab.

POP!

The gunshot sounds dull and thin to my deafened ears, but I know I avoided the shot because I don’t feel anything. Not even a pinch. Just a twinge of pain as my forearms and then hips and then back skid across the stone. I come out of the intentional roll at full speed, ducking under my attacker’s gun, which she tries to jab me with. I am too close to use my sword, so I crash straight into her, rocking her back and into her two friends.

We go down in a heap on the ground, me on top, then the shooter, then her two friends. If we were a sandwich, the shooter would be the meat in the middle, or the cheese perhaps. I’m the top layer of bread and her friends are the bottom crust. Apart from a few bruises and scrapes, everyone in the sandwich is unhurt, so I push to my feet and kick the metaphorical cheese in the head. Her eyes roll back and her tongue lolls out as she tumbles off the pile.

The other two were so surprised by my attack that they’ve dropped their guns. I pick up one of the weapons and aim it in their general direction. They raise their hands above their heads while still lying prostrate on the rock. Their eyes widen as they see me—really see me for the first time. They know who I am; at the end of the day, whether I like it or not, I’m still a celebrity.