“You’re stupid. Clearly this is the better plan. Your brain isn’t big enough to support that body of yours.” Annie’s words came out quick and sharp.

  That sent Joey into another spiral; the floor seemed to shake as he stumbled across the room. “You little shit…” His booming voice sent vibrations through the ground.

  Ashe stood there, stunned, while they kept bickering. They sounded like younger siblings, all chaos and only half a joke. If he’d felt comfortable enough with them, he might have told them to shut up, but instead he stayed where he was, listening as insults flew between Joey and Annie.

  The words hung in the air for only a moment before Amalia’s voice sliced through them. She’d only been gone for a minute, and somehow everything had already deteriorated into hysteria.

  “Stop. Now.”

  Movement ceased. The arguing cut off. Then something metallic clattered onto the wooden table.

  “Try out your new weapon.”

  Ashe hadn’t been allowed to touch it before now, or even know what it was—only that Amalia was sure it would fit him.

  He slid his hands across the smooth surface until he found it. He froze, confused. The rounded edges were the same as his walking stick. He tugged it toward himself and, sure enough, it was an exact replica. He frowned.

  “But this isn’t sharp.”

  He could almost hear her smile. “You sure about that? Try pressing the button on the handle.”

  He fumbled along the length until he found the rounded handle and the small raised button. He pressed his thumb against it, and a soft click ran up his arm. For a second, nothing happened. Then he felt it: metal scraping against metal as something shifted.

  He reached out, half expecting nothing to have changed.

  “Ouch.” His fingertip brushed the edge, and blood began to pool.

  He quickly stuck his finger in his mouth, the taste of iron filling it. What had been a dull walking stick moments ago was now some kind of hybrid.

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  Behind him, Annie’s voice drifted over, sharp and satisfied. “Idiot.”

  “Try it out,” Amalia said.

  He knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to show them what he had. This would either make them believe in the weird blind kid, or shatter what little faith they’d managed to scrape together.

  Ashe nodded.

  He clicked the button on his walking stick and heard the metal slide back into place. Back to just a stick. He traced the floor until the tip caught on the edge of the plastic mat. He took off his shoes and stepped onto it.

  He bent his knees, ready. The footsteps on the far side were light—too light. Annie. He’d heard she was fast, quiet, deadly. A bad match-up for him; Joey would’ve been much easier to hear coming.

  She stepped toward him, then her sound vanished. Completely.

  His ability flared, a dull pain in his back. Weeks ago, he would have doubted it. Now he moved. He twisted, thumb hitting the button. The walking stick became a sword again. Annie screamed as she saw the blade flash toward her, and her body slammed against the mat before he could make contact.

  “What the hell?” She panted below him.

  Ashe hadn’t even thought about it; instinct had taken over. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to use this thing. Heat rushed to his face as he spoke through clenched teeth.

  “Sorry.”

  Joey came up to him and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder.

  “She would’ve been fine. Her armour’s good. But man, I would’ve loved to see her wince just a little.” He groaned, as if remembering some old bruise, and Ashe could hear the sound of fabric creaking as Joey shifted his weight. “She usually uses me as a meat shield.”

  “You big moron.” The words came from somewhere below him; she still hadn’t moved, but there was a new lightness in her voice that hadn’t been there before.

  Amalia spoke from farther back, clearly still by the table. “Well done, Ashe. But we need to get back to planning. Next time, training edge only—or keep the blade retracted.”

  Ashe nodded quickly, completely agreeing with her assessment, and made his way toward her.

  She’d already started talking before he reached the table, laying out possible plans depending on what waited inside.

  “According to preliminary readings, we’re expecting either a short humanoid creature or some kind of hawk variant. If it’s the humanoids, we operate front to back, with Joey front and centre,” she said, her voice trailing off as Joey interrupted.

  He groaned. “Fine.”

  Since joining the team, he’d begun to realise just how much data the Guild collected—not just from the portal in Australia, but from all over the world. They scanned every new portal the moment it appeared, anything to give Jumpers even the smallest edge.

  “Ashe, once I give the word, you move toward the front, at Joey’s side. It’ll be fluid, depends how many there are and whether they’re focusing him.”

  Ashe nodded slowly, trying to fix every word, every detail, in his mind.

  Silence held for a beat before she continued. “If it’s the hawks, we fight back to back. Annie will use her bow to bring them down while we swat away their attempts to dive-bomb us.”

  “Goody. Something I’m actually good at,” came the squeaky voice that was becoming a little less irritating by the day.

  Ashe tightened his grip around his new weapon, suddenly very aware that the next time they did this, it wouldn’t be on a mat.