Rachel relaxed a little. "I tried to volunteer, you know. As soon as I saw your name on that roster I submitted mine to Chief Kindal. Nervous prick said they were already full up and refused to submit me."

"He outright refused you?" Jiya asked. She didn't really want to pick at this thread as she couldn't determine if having Rachel along would be a good thing (someone to trust) or a bad thing (drama on top of drama), but she also needed to know.

"Outright? No," Rachel said. "But I guarantee you he deleted my request the second I turned my back on him."

Jiya sighed. Just more paranoia from Rachel. She pulled away even as Rachel clung to her, and finished packing her bag, then set back on the bed.

"I need some rest before we go," she said. "The chiefs could call us any minute."

"Room for two?"

Jiya snort-laughed. "Sure." She patted the almost non-existent space in the cot beside her. "But sleep, you understand?"

"Of course."

Rachel slid in beside her, setting her head on the pillow next to Jiya's and looking her square in the eyes. All the anger had washed away, and now all Jiya could see was sorrow, sorrow entrenched in those wide green eyes welling above tear-stained cheeks.

As Jiya took in Rachel's dirt-smeared face, Rachel rubbed with her thumb at the remaining grease still lightly streaked down Jiya's own cheeks, casualties of a rushed shower; yet another tender gesture reminding Jiya that she had let this relationship go too far considering its inevitable conclusion.

"We make a great pair, us two," Rachel said.

"I know," Jiya lied.

Rachel leaned in for a kiss and Jiya let her. It was sweet, tender like Rachel's thumb on her cheeks, and yet all the more awkward in light of the fight that had transpired. Despite herself, Jiya let go and lost herself in the moment, kissing Rachel back. She could feel the heat surging between them, warming her as she leaned closer. A light airy sensation stole over her, that quiver of anticipation and desire. It would be so easy to just give in. She ran her fingers through Rachel's long princess-like hair, pulling her closer. Her warrior-princess, her knight of the fields, always watching out for her. Rachel gasped, that sigh of longing. Jiya had let this go too far.

As if on queue, Rachel interrupted the moment.

"You know they might not be alive," she said. "Right?"

"Who?" Jiya deflated. She could feel all the built tensions, all the anticipation slipping away as reality reared its ugly head.

"The Coalition party," Rachel continued. "There might not be any survivors."

"And this is the moment you feel best for this discussion?"

Jiya could still feel Rachel's breath on her lips. Mere centimeters separated them from intimate embrace, their body heat mingling, radiating through clothes that acted as nothing more than a flimsy barrier between their interlocked bodies.

"Yes," Rachel said. "I have to know before you go."

"I do. I know it's possible," Jiya said, slowly pulling back, her heart rate slowing as she fought off the urge to kiss Rachel once more. She was furious at her, mad at how Rachel insisted on making this whole affair about them, about the them that wasn't supposed to be; and the same Rachel that when she'd finally won her over still couldn't let well enough alone. This was exactly the type of drama she'd been trying to prevent when she'd insisted the relationship was nothing more than physical.

"I know it's possible she continued, but I don't believe it's the case."

"You don't just want them to be alive, perhaps?" Rachel asked, brushing Jiya's cheek once more with her thumb. Jiya pulled back at both the question and the gesture.

"Of course I want them to be alive."

"Yes, but it's more than that, isn't it? For over a year you've had no control. Your mother—"

"Wow, Rachel," Jiya interrupted. "Just wow." Jiya could feel the heat flooding into her cheeks, only a much different heat now. She rolled over, turning her back on Rachel.

"If they are alive, if you can save them, for the first time in a long time you'll have a sense of agency that you've been missing."

Jiya kept quiet. As far as she was concerned the conversation was over.

"I know you don't want to hear it," Rachel continued, "but you need to. You need to know why you're doing this before it's too late to turn back."

Jiya closed her eyes, pulling a blanket up around her and settling in for sleep. As she did she shifted ever so slightly calling back to Rachel behind her, all intimacy drained from her voice. "When the chiefs call, wake me, okay?"

Rachel grunted her assent and cuddled up beside Jiya, draping her muscular arm over her partner in a misguided attempt at comfort. Once more Jiya let it be.

In the distance she could hear thunder rolling out across what she knew to be a cloudless sky. The survivors were out there. She knew it, even if Rachel didn't understand it. They had to be, and they needed her. That was all this was about; nothing more. Jiya had to save them. She had to do it. Else who would? Situ Tao? Could he even do it on his own?

No, she had to go.

Jiya pulled Rachel's arm tighter around herself, and drifted off to a listless sleep, plagued by dreams in which she cowered naked, bare beneath a torrent of rain swirling below a roiling tempest, thunder booming above as lightning rained down catching the migratory savannah afire. As she huddled, clutching her knees in the rain, lit by that blue-violet blaze, she could hear a strange undulating cry rise into the skies, a high-pitched, warbling wail unlike any she had ever heard. The bentari and the bentai were screaming.