Suddenly, Marda heard a hum, and vivid golden light engulfed the nesting chamber. She gasped and looked at the line of vibrant light Kevmo held in his hand. She could feel it, a bright pressure. It filled the chamber, glinting off granite and glittering on the sun opal. It made the floodwaters gleam like it was a rising sun. Marda felt better and smiled for the first time since the flooding had begun.

  Turning toward the basins, she saw Ferize bent over a tumble of granite, reaching into the still darkened corner. Her fingers nearly reached the baby held aloft.

  Marda hurried through the rising waters and clambered up onto the fallen rocks. Ferize caught her wrist, and they steadied each other. All Ferize’s furls were flared with panic, her eyes blown wide. Marda dug the hard nails of her free hand into the stone to secure herself. “What happened?” She held on to Ferize’s wrist, the two of them anchored together, so Ferize could reach for the baby with more leverage. Ferize caught the baby’s arm and cried out her partner’s name. Er Dal released the baby, and Ferize pulled him back against her chest, cooing and sobbing.

  In the golden light, Marda looked past to see the pain on Er Dal’s face and the strain as he held the last two babies up over the water. “Er Dal?” she called.

  “I’m trapped. Stuck,” he said. His arms trembled with effort to keep the babies over the water. It was higher behind the rocks, up to his chest. The babies huddled against his face, mouthing at his cheek frills. One of them wailed; the other was too quiet but definitely fidgeting.

  “We’ll get you,” Marda promised.

  Behind her, Kevmo said to Ferize, “Go with that child. Marda and I will rescue your mate and babies, I swear it.”

  “Go, Ferize,” Marda said. “Get both of you safe. We will do this.”

  Ferize grimaced, but the child in her hands whimpered. She stared past Marda at Er Dal, then said something in Kessarine. Er Dal nodded once. Then Ferize turned and began wading through the waters.

  Marda and Kevmo surveyed their immediate problem. “What’s caught you?” she asked Er Dal.

  The Kessarine, still shaking, said, “My hip and foot were caught by the break in the chamber wall. Water pushed us and the rocks here, and the water pressure is too much. I am trapped, but you can come here, both of you, and take the babies. It’s all right.”

  “No,” Marda said. “We’ll get you free, too.” She bit her lip. “I can swim down and try to free—”

  “I’ve got this, Marda,” Kevmo said. He moved closer. “I can move all the rocks, but you have to be ready to catch the babies, all right?”

  Marda frowned. “You can…”

  Kevmo nodded. “The Force.”

  Her breath caught. She couldn’t make herself begin again as she stared at him, fear and hope a spiky twist in her throat.

  “Be ready,” he said. “I should be able to keep the lightsaber on, but if not, it will get dark.”

  “Hurry,” gasped Er Dal.

  Marda nodded, but Kevmo had already moved; she had no idea if he’d seen her permission.

  He closed his eyes and reached his free hand for the air. Kevmo cupped his hand and slowly turned it palm up—gifts freely given—and furrowed his brow. Then—

  The rocks shifted. Water splashed.

  Er Dal grunted. He bared his teeth.

  “Right…now,” Kevmo said with a grunt, and the rocks spilled away, vanishing under the suddenly tumultuous floodwaters.

  Er Dal cried out, one of the babies falling. Er Dal clutched at him, and Marda dove forward to grasp him.

  She fell half into the water, spluttering. She touched a baby and tucked him into her arm as she reached for the other, but found only rushing water and Er Dal’s arm. She grasped it. “Come on!” she yelled over the roaring water. The golden light suddenly vanished. They were alone in darkness.

  Water slammed into them.

  Marda fell, let herself go under but held the baby up in both hands, desperate to keep him in the air. She choked but got her feet back under her, and when she stood again, she pressed the baby to her face, wiping her eyes on her forearm. The golden light was back, but Kevmo had thrown himself into the corner because Er Dal was screaming, hands empty—the last baby was gone.

  “Come on,” Marda said, clawing at him. “Here, take this baby. Go. We’ll get the last one. You’re injured. You can’t help us, and they need you!”

  Her voice was raw, she was near blind with water, and the floodwater had reached her breasts, dragging at her robes, making them so heavy.

  “Fe Isle!” Er Dal bellowed.

  Marda dug her nails in, puncturing his thick skin. “Er Dal, take Fe Remine and go, now!”

  The Kessarine winced but took the baby, tucking him against his neck. He hesitated.

  They were plunged into darkness again, both of them frozen. Then the lightsaber hissed to life, and steam surrounded it from vaporized water. Marda wiped water from her eyes and saw Kevmo had Fe Isle in his arm! She exhaled harshly in relief, holding out both arms.

  Then another rumble was their only warning before more water rushed in from the back exit. Kevmo’s eyes widened, and he lowered his lightsaber, flinging his hand toward the water.

  Darkness fell, but the water never hit them.

  “Marda—Marda,” Kevmo said, voice strained. “I’ve got…the water held back. But I can’t…You have to come here and get the baby, in the dark. Just…listen, I’m right here.”

  “I’m coming,” she said, staring at the darkness where he’d been. She knew water must be stuck, against a wall of rock being held in place by the Force, just waiting to kill them all. But she couldn’t see it; she could only imagine it.

  “I’m here,” Kevmo said. “I’m not going anywhere.” He laughed. “Obviously. I just have to keep talking so you can find me and this adorable little baby. It’s breathing. It seems to be gasping, but I think it’s fine, just waterlogged. Its name is Fe Isle? That’s pretty.”

  Marda made her way toward his voice, letting it surround her like sunlight. Warm and promising unlike this cold, demanding water. She closed her eyes. It was less disorienting, and she needed to focus, not fall, not picture the wall of floodwater just waiting, so eager for his concentration to drop so it could take them. She found rocks with her boots and stepped up, but just then Kevmo said, “Blast, there’s too—Marda! I have to let it go. I’m sending the baby to you. Just hold out your arms!”

  She did it without thinking, even as panic choked her. The water roared, and she felt a whoosh of air before the baby was in her hands, and then the golden lightsaber flared to life again and she could see. Kevmo stared urgently. “Go—go! I can’t hold it.” The wave of water curved over them, stuck in place by the Force, by Kevmo’s control. His body shook, and Marda didn’t want to leave him.

  “Go! Use my light!” he yelled, and she spun, taking it, the gift of light, to push back through the water toward the entrance, where Er Dal waited several steps up. The Kessarine watched eagerly, one arm out for her.

  Marda got there and put the baby in his arm just as the waters surged, and she spun back around in time to see Kevmo lose the wave and vanish under it.

  The lightsaber hissed and disappeared, and Marda screamed his name.

  She dove into the water toward him, pushing with all her might. She was small but strong. Determined. Evereni never gave up until they had what was theirs. And Kevmo Zink was hers.

  Tearing with her fingers, kicking her legs, she pushed through the flooded chamber toward where he’d been. Once, she grasped up for air and barely found it, sucking in a huge breath. Then Marda dropped back into the furious water.

  There—he clung to the rocks, pressed by the water against them. Marda burst up and took another breath in the darkness. She grasped at his arm, turning, and pulled it over her shoulders. Marda dragged him up, standing on her tiptoes to keep his lolling head above water. His weight pressed onto her back, but she kept going, struggling forward. She was aware of nothing but drowning, the push and pull of water, and Kevmo’s warm weight against her back and shoulder, pulling her hair.

  Finally, she reached the exit, and more hands reached for them. Pale hand lights shone in her eyes, and she saw two—no, three people there, waiting on the stairs. They took Kevmo first, then helped her up, wrapping her in their arms and pushing them both along the steps. Lights danced in her vision, and her teeth chattered. She tasted her own blood.

  “Did—did all the Kessarine get out?” she asked through her racking shivers. It was Ferize and Mykge pulling her along. Ferize said, “Yes, we’re safe thanks to you. We have both of you. Come on.”

  Marda reached forward and caught Kevmo’s hand. It was cold, but he squeezed hers back, even as he held on to the Wookiee Jukkyuk, who carried him easily, bent over only to fit through the narrow underground corridors.

  With Kevmo’s hand in hers and Ferize’s assurances, Marda let herself think of nothing but putting one foot in front of the other until they were outside, through the harsh rain, and back in the safety of the storage barn. She listened to the noise of her big family, reveled in the light and warmth as she was stripped and bundled in mostly dry robes, given hot tea to warm her from the inside, and pushed down into a nest with some of her Littles and Kevmo. He seemed dazed, too, eyes wide but snuggled against the wall under an onslaught of children. Marda collapsed next to him and immediately put her head on his shoulder.

  “Marda,” he whispered into her hair. It was still wet. So was his, the thick braids wrapped in a quick-drying towel and pulled over his other shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she whispered back.

  “I…I’m sorry.”

  Marda pushed back and glared at him. “What for? You saved them.”

  “With the Force.”

  Her mouth fell open. She remembered the power. He’d used the Force to move stones, then hold back the strength of the flood. If he hadn’t, at least one baby and probably Er Dal would have drowned. Marda wanted to tell him she was glad. She couldn’t, though. Her family was alive, but what might be the consequences? Even if Marda couldn’t regret his choices—or her own—how could she condone them without throwing over her entire life of beliefs? But her family was alive. Only because he’d used the Force. Taken it, refused its freedom.

  Under her shocked stare, Kevmo lowered his eyes. Marda reached out and touched his chin. Lifted it until he looked at her.

  When he finally met her gaze, Marda nodded once, slowly. An acknowledgment more than anything. Yes, she knew what he’d done. Yes, she did not blame him. Yes, yes, yes.

  Then Marda leaned back in and put her head on his shoulder. “The will of the Force,” she murmured.

  Kevmo shifted until he could wrap his arm around her and drew her closer.

  “So, are you ready?”

  Yana looked up from where she sat in a patch of grass, programming a new string of lights for the caves, since most of them had been washed away in the flood. It had taken nearly three days for the water to recede. Three days of everyone piled on top of one another in the storage barn, babies crying, Littles arguing, and the Elders tsk-tsking everything they disliked. It was too much. Yana was willing to do anything to get a measure of normalcy back, and that meant repairing the caves so they were once more livable.

  She couldn’t move boulders like the Jedi, but she could program lights. So that was what she was doing when Kor walked up, her face paint freshly applied and her head tresses tied back with a thick band of blue cloth.

  Yana blinked and removed the goggles she wore. “Ready for what?”

  “The thanking feast! You said you’d sit with me and my family.”

  Yana lowered her goggles over her eyes once more and went back to work. “I can’t. These lights have to be installed before everyone can return to their chambers in the cave. And I refuse to spend another night listening to Old Waiden snore. I want my sleeping cell to myself again.”

  “No one else is going to be working, though, Yana,” Kor said, frowning. Yana tried to avoid her girlfriend’s dark-eyed gaze, but even so, she could sense Kor’s distress.

  “Kor, I don’t want to go,” Yana finally said, tearing off the goggles. “It’s silly to celebrate, what, not drowning?”

  Kor frowned, and Yana regretted the words as soon as they came out. Kor said sadly, “You promised.”

  “Kor,” Yana began, trying to find a way to extricate herself from the promise she’d unwittingly made to attend the feast with Kor’s family. But she couldn’t find any way around it. She swallowed a bone-weary sigh. “Let me clean myself up and change my robes,” she finally said.

  “No more than half an hour,” Kor said, her expression firm. “I mean it, Yana.”

  Yana nodded in resignation before giving Kor a peck on the cheek. She wasn’t sure why this mattered so much. Perhaps Kor was responding to a bit of gossip about Yana’s continued absences? Yana didn’t care what the rest of the Path thought of her, but she definitely cared about making Kor happy. She needed Kor to go with her after the next liberation trip. So Yana gathered up the work mat and the tools and took them back to Cincey’s work hut, Kor watching with crossed arms.

  “No more than half an hour!” Kor repeated. “My father is saving us a space.”

  Yana waved off Kor’s demand and made her way to Cincey’s hut, where the lights would be stored until they were ready to be installed. After a quick knock and a yell, Yana opened the door to find Cincey and Treze laughing over something, the Mikkian perched on the edge of a worktable, looking over Cincey’s shoulder.

  “What’s going on?” Yana asked, placing the work mat and lights on the other worktable for later.

  “Oh, we were just looking at photos of the Graf family compound on Thelj. Have you ever seen anything so ridiculous?” Cincey said, pulling up the image so it was displayed on the larger holoscreen for Yana to see.

  The property was massive, with a set of ornate gates and warmers placed every few intervals. Even though Thelj was an icy mess most of the year, the compound itself was lush and blooming, a garden in the middle of a snowdrift.

  “How do they keep it warm enough to grow runner vines?” Yana asked in amazement.

  “With enough credits you can do anything.” Treze laughed, giving Yana a sly look. “Say, where’s Kor? She should see this, too.”

  “Why?” Yana asked, waving away the image of the lush gardens and stunning architecture. “She doesn’t care about rich people.”

  “Because this is the place the Force showed the Mother during the flood,” Cincey said, pointing to the image of the compound. “She was meditating deeply and saw this chunk of ice and an artifact known as Jedi Tears, a necklace made with a rare stone that reacts to the Force. That’s our next liberation.”

  Yana paused. “She wants us to hit the compound of the Grafs? Is she insane?”

  Treze laughed, nearly falling off his perch. “Yana, we broke into the Hynestian Royal Treasury. This is going to be like a walk to Ferdan.”

  “In a flood with high winds, maybe,” Yana said. She shook her head. “This assignment is too big for us.”

  “The Force revealed it to her,” Cincey said in a singsong, like they wanted to believe but couldn’t quite.

  Treze shrugged and leapt off the worktable. “If the Mother thinks we’re ready for this kind of a job, it’s because we are. I have to get out of here. I’m meeting my girl in town. Tell Kor I said hey,” he said as he made his way out of the communications hut.

  Cincey turned their hoverchair toward Yana. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” Yana said with a frown. “Cince, have you ever tried seeing what data is out there on the Mother?”

  Cincey’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing. “That seems like a strange ask.”

  “Maybe,” Yana said, sensing that she’d overstepped. “But we don’t know where she came from. She’s seemed…distracted lately.” It was true, though Yana thought it was just that weird jewel. Which—where did she even get it?

  Cincey watched Yana with a hard expression, but it melted into one that was a bit more thoughtful. “I don’t think that instinct is wrong,” Cincey finally said, their voice low. “But no, I haven’t looked too closely. Honestly, I don’t think I’ll like what I find.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Yana said. She didn’t push any further. She knew when to leave things alone. But now that she’d dropped the idea in Cincey’s brain, it was worth hoping that their tech expert would let it drive a bit of investigation. There might be something vital there, some piece of information that would help Yana fully place all the puzzle pieces of her suspicions into something clear and concise.

  Yana took her leave, washed quickly, and changed into her spare set of robes, hurriedly smearing brikal-shell paint across her brow as she ran out the door. By the time she made her way to the grassy plain where the Path held all their celebrations, a few of the Littles were singing a thanking song they’d made up, their voices loud and off-key. Marda stood with Old Waiden and watched them with something like pride writ large across her face, and Yana was glad to see her cousin’s Jedi was not in attendance. She was beginning to regret encouraging Marda to go after the boy. It turned out the Jedi made her more nervous than she’d expected. They saw far too much, even if they hid it behind kind smiles and placid expressions.

  Yana found Kor and her family easily. The Herald stood nearby, a knot of Elders crowded around him as he nodded gravely. They were probably complaining about not being able to return to their rooms yet. Yana wasn’t the only one vexed by the current sleeping arrangements, and she thought it was silly to have a feast day when they hadn’t even finished the basic repairs that needed to be done. But she swallowed her annoyance and put a bright smile on her face when Kor leapt to her feet to pull her over to their family’s blanket.

  “Sit, Yana,” Kor said, leading Yana over to the older Nautolan woman wrapped in a damp blanket. Opari smiled tiredly. But it was the most relaxed expression Yana had seen on her, maybe ever, and as she bowed to Opari, she wondered if this was why Kor was hesitant to leave.