The matriarch tore the rest of the wall down.
Brick and rotten timber crashed into the flooded gallery. Jessa threw herself over her son. Elara caught Holl’s shoulder before the injured worker slipped beneath the water.
Ren looked at the buried stairs.
Then at the matriarch.
Then at the three smaller bramblebacks crowding through the breach behind it.
His right arm shook so badly the Cuff clicked against his wrist.
"Ren," Elara said, "do not."
"I haven’t done anything."
"You are looking at the largest creature."
"It’s difficult not to."
"You are thinking about fighting it."
Ren looked toward the open orchard beyond the broken wall.
Nia stood in the rain with the two missing workers behind an overturned cart. Blood ran from her shoulder to her fingertips.
The matriarch turned toward her.
Ren’s stomach tightened.
Then he saw the channel.
The broken irrigation wall had filled the nearest orchard row with rushing water. Two loaded carts sat half-submerged near the road. Emergency rope ran from Jessa’s wagon to a stone post.
"Elara."
She followed his gaze.
"No."
"I need the secondary sluice."
"That gate has not opened in eight years."
"Tonight is full of reunions."
"The wheel is outside."
"Can you reach it?"
Elara stared through the breach.
The matriarch stood between her and the rusted control platform.
"Yes."
"That pause was unconvincing."
"It was calculation."
Ren pointed toward Jessa.
"Get everyone behind the carts. Tie the rope between them. Make a corridor to the road."
Jessa’s ears flattened.
"You giving orders now?"
"I’m begging efficiently."
A juvenile forced one hooked leg through the opening.
Jessa lifted her shovel.
"Holl, stop pretending your leg works. Pera, take his other side."
The survivors moved.
Ren stepped into the breach.
Elara caught his sleeve.
"What exactly are you planning?"
"To make the water go where we need it."
"With one unstable Function?"
"Three unstable Functions."
Her fingers tightened.
"That is worse."
"I know."
"No, you don’t."
Ren looked at the burn circling his wrist.
Then at Nia.
"I know enough."
Outside, Nia slapped the flat of her blade against the cart.
"Hey!"
The matriarch faced her.
Nia smiled through clenched teeth.
"Still ugly."
She ran into the flooded row.
The matriarch followed.
The brood followed their mother.
"Elara, now!"
Elara climbed through the breach and sprinted for the control platform.
Ren hit the first cart with his left hand.
The Cuff unfolded.
"Holdfast."
The cart locked against the stone post.
Ren ran to the second cart.
His knees nearly failed before he reached it.
"Holdfast."
A second line formed between the two wagons, pulling the rescue rope tight between them.
Jessa shoved her son into the corridor.
"Move!"
The workers splashed between the carts toward the road.
A juvenile broke from the brood and charged the survivors.
Ren swung his arm toward the iron sluice plate.
The Cuff clicked.
"No."
Elara reached the platform and threw her weight against the control wheel.
It did not move.
"Ren!"
"I’m trying!"
The juvenile leaped.
Nia appeared from the side and kicked it into the flooded ditch.
Her landing tore a cry from her throat.
She dropped to one knee.
The matriarch wheeled toward her.
Ren pressed both hands against the second cart.
The Cuff burned.
"Holdfast!"
The third anchor caught.
For one impossible moment, Ren felt the whole scene through the Artifact.
Stone post. Carts. Rope. Gate. Water.
Not separate objects.
A path.
"Elara!" he shouted. "Open it!"
She planted both boots against the platform rail and hauled.
The wheel turned.
Once.
Twice.
The secondary gate tore free with a scream.
Water exploded into the orchard row.
The surge rolled one juvenile sideways, buried another in brown foam, and slammed the third into a tree.
The survivors reached the road.
Jessa dragged Holl over the rope.
Her son followed, wrapped in Ren’s jacket.
"Everyone through!" Ren shouted.
The matriarch came out of the water.
It was too large and too angry for the surge.
Nia rose in front of it, blade hanging from her good hand.
Her injured arm had gone slack.
The matriarch lowered its crown of roots.
Ren released the cart anchors.
The golden lines snapped.
Pain drove through his wrist.
The Cuff’s inner plates flashed red.
> **ARTIFACT CONDITION: CRITICAL**
"Excellent," Ren muttered.
The matriarch charged Nia.
Ren moved.
He crossed the flooded row before his body could explain why that was impossible.
Nia saw him.
Her eyes widened.
"Ren, don’t—"
He planted himself between her and the beast.
One foot forward.
One foot back.
Weight low.
Make the ground win.
The matriarch filled his vision.
Ren thrust out his right hand.
"Holdfast!"
The Cuff screamed.
Gold struck the stone beneath the water.
The matriarch hit him.
Ren could not stop it.
But for one second, he convinced the charge to go nowhere.
His boots carved trenches through the mud.
The beast’s tusked jaw stopped a handspan from his chest.
The Cuff’s plates opened. Blood ran beneath the bronze.
Ren looked over the matriarch’s crown.
"Nia."
She moved.
One boot landed on Ren’s braced thigh.
The other struck the creature’s shoulder.
Nia vaulted over its head and drove her curved blade into the pale seam beneath its throat.
The matriarch convulsed.
Ren released the anchor.
The beast collapsed sideways into the flood.
So did he.
The sky spun.
Then Nia was above him.
She straddled his hips and caught his face between both hands.
"Ren."
He opened one eye.
"You look worried."
"I’m deciding whether to kiss you or hit you."
"Which requires less shoulder movement?"
Her mouth twitched.
"You look good under pressure."
"Technically, I look good after pressure."
Elara dropped beside them.
"Move."
Nia glanced at her.
"He’s conscious."
"That does not make him a chair."
Nia shifted off him.
Ren caught Elara looking relieved.
She immediately looked angry instead.
Jessa approached with her son holding one hand.
Behind her, rainwater carried blue-green resin past the broken carts and dead creatures.
"You completed the request," she said.
Ren pushed himself upright.
"We broke your wall, two carts, and a gate."
"The orchard was already having a poor evening."
"We don’t need payment," Ren said. "Give us whatever—"
"No," Elara said.
She pulled the soaked request ledger from beneath her vest.
Ren blinked.
"You saved that?"
"I save records."
She faced Jessa.
"Emergency response: four silver marks. One tonight, three after the next orchard sale. We retain the brambleback salvage. Our property damage is itemized and offset against the balance."
Jessa studied her.
"Too low."
"It is what you can pay without losing seed money."
"And the fence?"
Elara looked at Ren.
"Itemized."
Ren sighed.
Jessa held out her hand.
"Agreed."
They shook.
The first request was complete.
A boot stepped onto the road behind them.
A tall horned woman in dark provincial field leathers surveyed the dead matriarch, the flooded orchard, Nia’s wound, Ren’s ruined Cuff, and Elara’s ledger.
Her expression did not change.
"Who," she asked, "is responsible for this unlicensed operation?"