“I’m not some old coot to be wrapped up and shut away,” Nanny snarls from the ground. She gets to her feet as quickly as she can, burning a glare at Jon. “Let me walk, Shade, or I’ll scold you into oblivion.”

“Your call, Nanny,” Shade mumbles, fighting a smirk as she struts by him. He gives her enough room to move, but is never more than an arm’s length away. Nanny proudly stalks into the jet, her head held high and back ramrod straight.

“You did that on purpose,” Cal growls as he shoulders past Jon. He doesn’t bother to look back, even when Jon barks a laugh at his retreating form.

“And it worked,” he says, low enough so that only I can hear.

Trust the vision, not the man. A good lesson to learn. “Cal’s got a thing against mind games,” I warn, raising one pointed hand. A spark of lightning runs down my finger. The threat is plain as day. “And so do I.”

“I don’t play games.” Jon shrugs, tapping the side of his head. “Even when I was boy. This made it a bit hard to find competition, you see.”

“That’s not—”

“I know what you meant, Miss Barrow.” His placid smile, once unsettling, has become frustrating. I spin on my heel, making for the jet, but after a few quick steps, I realize Jon isn’t following.

He stares into the rain, but his eyes are wide and bright. A vision has not taken hold. He’s just standing still, enjoying the feel of cold, clean water washing the ash from his skin.

“This is where I leave you.”

The pulse of the jet spooling to life echoes in my rib cage, but it feels distant, unimportant. I can only stare at Jon. In the dimming light of the rainstorm, he looks like he’s fading away. Gray as the ash, gray as the rain, fleeting as both.

“I thought you were going to help us with the prison?” Desperation floods my voice, and I let it. Jon doesn’t seem to mind, so I try another tactic. “Maven’s hunting for you too. He’s killing all of us, and he’ll kill you when he gets the chance.”

That makes him laugh so hard he doubles. “You think I don’t know the moment I die? I do, Miss Barrow, and it will not be at the king’s hands.”

My teeth gnash together in irritation. How can he leave? All the others chose to fight. Why won’t he? “You know I can make you come with us.”

In the gray downpour, my lightning seems to spark twice as brightly. Purple-white, hissing in the rain, it twists between my fingers and sends shivers of pleasure up my spine.

Again, Jon smiles. “I know you can, and I know you won’t. But take heart, Miss Barrow. We will meet again.” He tips his head, thinking. “Yes, yes, we will.”

I’m only doing what I promised. I’m giving him a choice. Still, it takes all I have not to drag him onto the jet. “We need you, Jon!”

But he’s already begun to back away. Every step makes him harder to see. “Trust me when I say you don’t! I leave with you these instructions—fly to the outskirts of Siracas, to Little Sword Lake. Protect what you find there, or your imprisoned friends are as good as dead.”

Siracas, Little Sword Lake. I repeat the words until they commit to memory.

“Not tomorrow, not tonight, but now. You must fly now.”

The roar of the jet expands, until the air itself vibrates with strain. “What are we looking for?” I shout over the din, putting up one hand to shield my face from the spinning rain. It stings but I squint through it, if only to see the last silhouette of the gray man.

“You’ll know!” comes out of the rain. “And tell Diana, when she doubts. Tell her the answer to her question is yes.”

“What question?” But he ticks a finger, almost scolding.

“Attend to your own fate, Mare Barrow.”

“And that is?”

“To rise. And rise alone.” It echoes like the howl of a wolf. “I see you as you could become, no longer the lightning, but the storm. The storm that will swallow the world entire.”

For a split second, it looks like his eyes are glowing. Red against gray, burning through me, to look into every future. His lips curve into that maddening smile, letting his teeth gleam in the silver light. And then he’s gone.

When I stomp aboard the jet alone, Cal has the good sense to let me simmer in my anger. Only despair drowns out my rage. Rise alone. Alone. I dig my nails into my palm, trying to chase the sadness with pain. Fates can change.

Farley is not so tactful as Cal. She looks up from bandaging Gareth’s leg, her fingers sticky with scarlet blood, and sneers. “Good, we didn’t need the old loon anyways.”

“That old loon could’ve won this war outright.” Shade cuffs her lightly on the shoulder, earning a dark glare. “Think of what he can do with his ability.”

From the pilot’s seat, Cal glowers. “He’s done enough.” He watches me take the chair next to him, seething all the while. “You really want to storm a secret prison built for people like us?”

“Would you rather let Julian die?” No answer but for a low hiss. “That’s what I thought.”

“All right, then,” he sighs, easing the jet into a crawl. The wheels bump beneath us, rolling over uneven road. “We have to regroup, get a plan together. Anyone who wants to come is welcome, but no kids.”

“No kids,” I agree. My mind flashes to Luther and the other newblood children back at the Notch. Too young to fight, but not young enough to be spared from Maven’s hunt. They won’t like being left behind, but I know how Cal cares for them. He won’t allow any of them to see the wrong side of a gun.