“Gone?” Runa echoed. Dered continued to gasp before them, hands on his knees. “What do you mean, ‘gone’?”

“I mean he’s lost his powers!” Dered said, lowering his voice and glancing over his shoulder. “Just now he tried to heal someone and… he couldn’t. Nothing happened. He tried on three separate people, and nothing. He went into the tent – I assume to drink some water – came back, and still… nothing. I don’t know what happened Runa, but Utgar isn’t a Valkyrie any longer.”

Runa turned to Taelord.

“Go,” he said. He nodded towards the pavilion. His mouth was thin and his eyebrows were knit – Runa was sure he was already working out what this might mean for Helsng and the rebellion.

For her, that would have to come later. Right now, she needed to be with her father. She thanked Dered and Taelord, and ran the short distance to the pavilion entrance, slipping inside quietly. Hopefully Utgar had never realized she was gone.

Three people were in the dim interior: her father, Vydar, and Kirav. Utgar was sitting on the chair the farmers had supplied the night they arrived, while Kirav and Vydar stood before him. All three wore a mixture of shock, worry, and anger on their faces.

The tent was shadowed, and Utgar was looking at the floor, so Runa crept around the edge of the canvas wall, hoping to slip into the back portion undetected. Her father didn’t need to discover that she had slipped out without his permission, especially now. She had reached the divider when Utgar spoke.

“How?” he whispered.

Runa paused, but Utgar didn’t seem to have seen her. He had spoken to the floor.

“They must have switched the water,” Vydar said. “Every one of those skins is full, Utgar. They must have crept in here one night, taken the water, and replaced it with water from the river. You yourself said you could never taste any difference.”

Utgar nodded mutely. Runa had never seen him like that. Tired, weak… defeated. She wanted to turn away, but something held her there, kept her watching.

“The question is,” Kirav said, “why? And who?”

Vydar looked at him with raised eyebrows. “There’s little doubt about who,” he said. “This is obviously the work of the Empire. Everyone else here is on our side.”

“But why?” Utgar said. “I tried so hard to stay apart. I could have destroyed the Empire if I wanted, but I didn’t. I tried to make things work, prevent a war. Why would they do this?”

Vydar glanced at Kirav, then back at Utgar. “It’s… obvious,” he said.

Utgar looked up.

“They feared you,” Vydar said. “We could all see it. No matter your intentions, you were something they could not control. A threat they had no answer for. They had to remove that threat, and they have.”

Utgar sighed. “I was a fool,” he said, shaking his head.

“Perhaps,” Kirav said slowly, “perhaps this is why they suggested Haukeland. They knew you would want to send scouts, and decided that would give them time to steal the water.”

“If that’s the case,” Utgar said grimly, “then Yiven was a better actor than I thought.” He stood. “Enough of this speculation. The water is gone, my powers with it. What do we do?”

Vydar shook his head. “There isn’t much we can do, Utgar,” he said. “All the leverage we had was in those waterskins. Without it, we’re a scattered force of less than a thousand men, nothing more. The Empire outnumbers us, and could easily crush any revolt we tried to start.”

Utgar nodded. “So we try for peace,” he said. “It’s our only chance,” he added as Vydar opened his mouth. “The Empire has the upper hand. We can only hope that they are still willing to negotiate.”

Vydar frowned, but said nothing.

“Kirav,” Utgar said, turning to him, “you will fly to the Volcarren. You know where the Wellspring is. Bring back as much water as you can carry.”

“Utgar,” Kirav said uncertainly, “that will take at least a week. Probably two.”

“I know,” Utgar said. “But we need that water. I doubt the Empire would ever let me leave, but you… make sure you aren’t followed. If you are, do what you need to.”

Kirav nodded, his face set. “I’ll leave immediately,” he said. He turned, and whipped through the tent entrance.

“Now,” Utgar said, turning to Vydar, “if the Empire has taken my water, there’s every chance things here will turn to war. If it should come to that, we are not completely without hope.”

He reached up, and pulled a cord from beneath his shirt. Tied to it was a small object which seemed to shimmer in the darkness. Runa leaned forward slightly – it looked like a small glass vial.

Vydar leaned forward, looking at the object. For a moment there was silence. Then: “You kept some with you?” he whispered.

“Of course,” Utgar said, stuffing the vial back down his shirt. “I didn’t think the Empire would go this far, but I always knew how unprotected the water was. I kept some on me, just in case something like this happened.

“But Vydar, I have barely a drop. Not enough to turn the tide of a battle. Only enough—”

“—To open a Wellspring,” Vydar finished, his eyes widening. “You mean to do so?”

“Only,” Utgar said, fixing Vydar with a hard stare, “only if comes to war. I still want peace, Vydar. Understand that. If the Empire is willing to negotiate, then so am I. But… yes. If it comes to war, unsealing the Wellspring may be our only chance.

“Until then… make sure the Volcarrens and Vel are prepared. This rebellion could start at any moment, and we just lost our only leverage.”

Vydar nodded and turned to leave, and Runa, fearing she might be discovered, slipped past the partition. It was completely dark in the back half of the tent, leaving her alone in the blackness, forced to consider what might come next.