Nine
For a few terrible seconds, Solma just stares. Smog churns in the air. Warren has ash in his hair and soot coats his feet. His brows draw together in consternation, but he’s paying no attention to the chaos around him.
He’s scared for the bee. The bee that will probably die in a week anyway. And Warren will be dead in a minute if Solma does nothing.
“Sol!”
Maxen’s voice startles her into action. She ducks so that Maxen can fire a neat shot into the chest of the raider only meters from her. The raider grunts and falls. Maxen meets Solma’s gaze, fear, anger and disappointment mixed there. Solma’s gut tightens.
“Sol, they need you round by the fire!”
Solma shakes her head before she knows what she’s doing. “I can’t! I—”
Maxen looks furious. “If they don’t put out the fire, our foo
