THE FIRE SAGA

BLAZE 127 - DEFECTION

Aside from the Sentry and Rebel threat, there's a closer danger. My feet. Here's the problem, Folks. Running in the rainforest isn't exactly a carefree jaunt. It's a straight up obstacle course, and it's my first run through. Molly flies by me, the same destination in mind. Treehouse. I'm envious of her speed. Trying to match is a bad idea.

Fun fact: the forest floor is covered in long roots that get the tiniest bit interested in what's happening. Let's call them brow lifts of curiosity. You can easily guess where I'm headed now. Down. Hard. I land in a gross pool of forest floor muck, drawing a sigh of relief that my face miraculously evaded the thick of it. I mean, when considering my baby elephant grace, that landing was spectacularly catlike. Me-ow.

"Nice," heckles a familiar voice.

I'm fast on my feet, brushing off the knees of my pants. They're soaked. Predictable. Connor's smiling brightly, but I don't reciprocate. "What do you want?"

He holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Let me explain."

"Okay, explain how you're still breathing," I seethe. "That'd be a decent start."

Why is no one doing anything? They aren't even trying to contain him.

After a commotion from the treehouse, Molly jumps to the ground, positioning herself between Connor and me.

"Get out of my way, Molly."

My flame doesn't care to offer any warnings. It rushes through me like a dam's broken, spilling out from my fingertips. The sparks warm the sludge under my feet.

"Let him talk," she encourages me.

"There's nothing to talk about!" I roar, my blood boiling and slapping my insides with the rise in volume. "How are you explaining taking my mother? Trying to take me? Turning your back on me? Worse, turning your back on your sister? After all she did for you! You can't explain that away, Connor. There's no use trying."

Molly's Sentry induction wasn't standard, but they still took her the same way they took all the rest. Unwillingly. They didn't rescue her from a sad, pitiful existence. They plucked her right out of her life without a single care for how perfectly happy she was. A solo flower in an otherwise barren meadow. Pretty only until picked.

They didn't stop there. Not a chosen one, but still converted, they expected her to be thankful for what they offered. How could she be? She didn't ask for it. Why should she need to value something she didn't ask for? How could she feel privileged when she was forced from everything she wanted?

Yet, in spite of that crap sandwich she was forced to eat, Molly stayed. She stayed for her brother. She took care of him. How did he thank her? He bailed on her the second she stood for what was right. He didn't even say goodbye, simply took my mother and ran. What a lemming loser.

"Please listen to him," she begs. Her voice is a pitiful whisper, completely unlike her. There's no way I can refuse. Connor? I'd refuse him all day. Her? No way. I put the lid on the boiling pot and turn down the heat.

"You have three minutes," I negotiate. "That's me being generous."

"You think you've got it all figured out," he begins. "You're looking at this all wrong."

"You're not off to a solid start."

"I didn't anticipate you'd so easily distrust me," he admits. "I get why you do, but seriously, Sheyla, you know me."

"Obviously, I don't know you."

"Yes, you do," he disagrees. "Weigh this up. Use your beautifully logical brain and tell me why I took her. Tell me why I didn't stay with you."