I knew he was coming before I even caught a flash of the dark green hood of his robe, and I knew what he was going to tell me. I turned around when he laid a cold hand on my shoulder. His skin was coated in greyish smears of ash, he had a black eye, and his lips were bleeding. I could still see the scars rippling down the cheeks from the last time.

“They fought me proper this time, Antheia. I was clean out by the time they all had a go at me. Still, it’s better than ‘em just putting a bullet through me. That’s dirty tactic, that is.”

“But they did it again?”

He nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah. We’ve got until next week to give ‘em what they want, or they’re gonna do it again.”

“The children?”

“I took ‘em down to the creek, told ‘em to go and practice their charms. The older ones know there’s something wrong though. Some of ‘em are almost as old as us now, ain’t they? Sixteen?”

“Arktos, we can’t give ‘em what they want…can we? I vowed to protect this place, this guild. Look at everything we built.”

“I know, Antheia. We both did. But we might not have a choice. Come on, you better come see what they done.”

◆◆◆

Dying amber embers crackle under my bare feet as I walk on what is left of the blackened grass on the top of Koraki Crest. This time, the flames are worse. They lick at the remains of my hut, and others are reduced to dust and billow with demented grey smoke. Our grove of ash trees flickers with flames.

“Is there anything left?”

“Barely. They took our knives. And the elders’ cabin is ruined.”

I take a look around me. I can see shards of the bottles of our remedies and potions littering the floor. Our lampsi flowers are charred. Crumpled hammocks lie alight on the floor. One of our diamond-edged knives is shattered next to our plundered weapon stash.

A woman comes up the hill, carrying a pail of water on her shoulders, which she pours onto the worst of the fire which splutters, momentarily seeming to fizzle away, but is resurrected by the flames that dance violently everywhere around it.

“I’m tryin’. I’m really tryin’, Antheia, but it’s no good.”

“It’s okay, Lykia. You’re doin’ such a good job.”

She tries to smile back at me, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and her voice falters as she speaks again. “Is this the start—is this the start of—a war?”

“I’ll make sure it isn’t. I promise.”

Arktos looks at me anxiously. “Antheia.” He whispers. “That’s a big promise. I’ve—got a barge tied at the Dock, y’know. We could just—leave.”

“And go where? Don’t you remember why we left all those years ago? We were lost kids with shattered dreams then, and now we’re nothing but outcasts running from the memory of somewhere and someone we can never, ever go back to. This is our home. All of our homes. I don’t care what you wanted before, because we ain’t getting it back. This is who we are. We’re never gonna be like ‘em again."