Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Note: I wasn't ready to leave Sandrock yet! But I was getting bored of all the re-writes of the main storyline in-game (as good as those fics are!!), so I decided to come up with my own! Some of it follows the original story, some of it doesn't, some of the plot points and drama I made up myself. 

I hope you enjoy, thanks for reading!

Chapter 1

Sand whipped at my face as I kicked the rubber tire with a screech of frustration. How on earth did the old world people deal with such machines? They were utterly useless, always breaking down and required so many recourses to keep them running. 

I bent down again to stare under the hood of my modified long-distance sand buggy, steam curling up to the sky, escaping into the dry, hot desert air. Sweat beaded on my forehead under the blazing sun. I had been looking, tinkering and pacing for an hour trying to think of a solution. I cursed. I had power stones aplenty to run it, I had spare bearings, springs, break pads, tires - almost all the key components for minor issues. What I didn’t have though, was an entire replacement motor. 

I swung myself back into the cab of the damned vehicle, snatching another piece of jerky from the bag on the little seat behind me and gnawed on it angrily. I should be rationing the food and water I’d packed from Atara for the journey, but stress eating was keeping me sane. Who knew how long I’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but sand, cacti and Desert Hoppers as far as the eye could see. 

My trip to Atara had been fruitful, I’d gathered a lot of great recourses, made some useful acquaintances and frankly, it was nice to visit a place that wasn’t just sand and heat. I had only been a Builder in Sandrock for a year, the people were great, but a little getaway never hurt anyone. No doubt the commissions would be piling up upon my return. 

If I ever returned. 

“Snap out of it, Lucia!” I demanded of myself, shaking my head to banish the very unhelpful intrusion of bad thoughts. I was a builder, a damn good one at that. I was smart, resourceful and crafty. I would claw my way out of this. 

Glancing around the landscape, I tried to see anything that could serve the purpose of shelter. The sand buggy might have had a canvas roof, alloy doors and one glass windscreen to protect my eyes, but it didn’t do much in the way of proper protection from the elements, and the end of the day would be here in a matter of hours. A solid roof and walls would make me feel slightly better about my predicament. Plus, it gets cold at night in the desert. 

I swallowed my jerky dryly, my throat already screaming for water. I ignored the instinct, needing to preserve my precious water, and I marched determinedly toward a rocky outcrop I saw in the distance. There had to be something there. Even a little notch in the rock I could crawl into would do nicely. 

After a few minutes of walking, I reached it. Up close it loomed larger than I had expected, its jagged edges cutting sharp against the sky. I began to circle the expanse of it slowly, scanning desperately for any crack, cave or notch that might keep me sheltered until the sun rose again. 

Bingo. 

A gap twice the width of me and a head shorter than I stood, beckoned me in. I took out my dagger, palming the cold metal handle and I carefully took a step forward. It was dark, but the sun peeking in from the entrance illuminated the relatively roomy expanse inside well enough. My eyes quickly swept around for creatures or other dangers lurking, when I saw none, I relaxed and strapped the dagger back to my thigh. 

The space would easily be big enough for a few people and their bags to stretch out on the sandy floor. I smiled, pleased with myself as I turned to go collect my things from the buggy. I paused as I noticed a burnt out, small campfire to the left of the gap in the stone. The ashy pit was cold, but not covered in enough sand to tell me it had been a long time since last used. I pondered this for a second. Who else could have been here recently? This was nowhere. I didn’t even know whose land this would be classed as. I was about 7 hours ride from Atara and still more than 3 hours from Sandrock. 

The wind picked up outside and I quickly decided it didn’t matter. I jogged back to the broken buggy and gathered as much as I could. The most expensive and rare recourses I shoved into satchels and pockets, before tucking canisters of water and bags of food under my arms, half walking, half waddling my way back to the little cave that would serve as my shelter for the night. 

Collapsing on the ground, I made myself as comfortable as I could. I shoved most of my stuff against the rocky walls and used my pack with my clothes in it as a pillow, spreading a large coat out underneath me to stop the sand getting in places sand shouldn’t be. I lay back, my long blonde hair flopping out beside me in its braid. I stared at the rocky ceiling and sighed heavily. My mind raced, turning over ideas on how to get home.

Eventually, night fell and along with it came the cold. The wind picked up again and started to howl against the entrance to my sanctuary, throwing sand angrily against the rock outside. I wouldn’t have stood a chance if I had chosen to hunker down in my buggy. I shivered, wrapping my remaining thin jacket tighter against me. It didn’t do much good, I hadn’t planned to be stuck out in the desert at night. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed sleep to come and take me swiftly to morning. I would have been home tucked up in my own bed by now if the stupid buggy didn’t die. My stomach growled at me, followed closely by a violent shiver. It was bitterly cold and I ruefully wished I had thought to find wood to light the old fire by the entrance. 

Despite the piercing cold and the shifting sand underneath the pathetic layer of fabric beneath me, I started to drift off into a fitful, uncomfortable sleep. 

Thud. 

I snapped my eyes open and sat up quickly, unstrapping my dagger as I narrowed my eyes at the blackness outside, desperately trying to see beyond. I didn’t dream that, right? I tried to ease my panicking mind. It was surely a Boxing Jack lumbering around in the wind. 

A scuffle of… feet? 

Maybe a wandering Pensky? 

Another thud. 

Then a muttered curse. 

Not a creature. A person. 

I shot up onto my feet and flattened myself against the wall to the right of the entrance, a dagger in each hand, face angled toward the gap. I worked to school my breathing. 

In, out, in, out. 

Easy now. 

I was lithe, quick on my feet and strong. I’ve fought and won against everything from snakes, to giant worms, to monstrous robots. I could handle a person. 

Footsteps. I could hear them now, edging closer toward my hiding spot. A large shadow loomed just outside the cave entrance, I heard another curse. 

A mans voice.

Oh my Light, it was a man. A big man at that. My breathing stuttered and my body went rigid as I prepared to pounce. 

His hulking form staggered into my cave and I acted. The moon offered little light, but I could see shadows in the dark. My feet propelled me forward as I used my entire weight to shove his large form back against the rock wall. My hand flew up with the dagger to meet his neck, the other pressing into his stomach. 

“Move and you die.” I hissed. 

He was at least a head taller than me, and that’s saying something. I wasn’t short by any means. 

The man huffed a strangled laugh, his breath moving the hair that had fallen from my braid and into of my face. I could see the moonlight glinting in his eyes. 

“Ya surprised me.” A deep voice chuckled. 

“You’re not exactly in the position to find this amusing.” Snarling, I pushed the dagger harder against his neck, threatening to draw blood. 

“Aren’t I?” 

His breathing paused, so mine did too. Quick as a flash, I felt my body lurch as he leaned sideways away from the dagger pressed to his stomach. I felt the clothes he was wearing catch on my blade and tear as he maneuvered, using a hand to roughly shove me backwards. Unwillingly, I fell backwards, my dagger leaving his neck as I flailed, caught completely by surprise. 

My breath left me forcefully as I landed flat on my back, I didn’t get a chance to draw it again before a heavy weight covered my body, something sharp and cold pressed against my own neck now. 

I cursed myself and jerked, trying to yank my arms from where they were pinned at my sides under his knees, my daggers scattered somewhere un-reachable in the sand. My legs kicked, trying to find purchase, but it only served to gather sand inside my pants. The feel of the damn sand against the inside of my pants made me simply irate. 

I grunted and screeched with fury as I put all my strength into getting this big bastard off me, but to no avail. His hard body hovered over me, seemingly careful not to crush me, knees on my arms, knife against my neck and he laughed. 

The asshole laughed at me and my desperation. 

“Don’t hurt yourself now, lil lady.” He drawled. “I ain’t here to hurt ya. Calm yourself and maybe we can share this here cave tonight.”

“Keep dreaming!” I spat and lurched my body again, attempting to throw his heavy weight off me. 

“Light save me, you’re going to make me motion sick with all ya buckin’ like a wild yakmel. Calm down, damn it.” 

He was starting to sound exasperated now at my fighting. The corner of my mouth kicked up at the satisfaction of annoying him, but quickly dropped again when I realised it wasn’t going to help my situation. I was breathing heavily, sweat slicking my face despite the chill that permeated the night. I’d barely eaten today, was probably dehydrated too, I was out of energy. So, I stilled. Weighing my options. 

He hesitated. “Are ya done?” 

“Yes.” I said through gritted teeth. I was. 

Maybe. 

I felt him raise his free arm to search for and retrieve something from his pocket. 

Click.

I flinched, expecting a weapon to blow my head off. Instead, light blinded me, shining brightly from what seemed to be a crude attempt at a flashlight. It chased away the shadows of the cave, and in its wake kneeled above me a tall, muscular, blonde, no - white haired man, with a bandanna tied around the bottom half of his face. His clear blue eyes shone with mirth under his stupidly big cowboy hat with yakmel horns tied to each side. 

Logan. 

I knew his face, or at least the top half of it, from the wanted posters plastered all over Sandrock. Fear gripped my heart, and it must have shown on my expression too as the amusement disappeared off his face and was replaced with a hard look. 

“Ah, ya know me then.” His voice betrayed a whisper of disappointment. Logan shifted and slid off me. Dragging himself to the opposite side of the cave and sitting with his back leaning against the wall. “I meant it, I’m not gon’ hurt you.” He slid his knife back into the holster on his hip and held up his now empty hand like a white flag. “I swear it.”

I lay on my back where he left me, though eying him warily as I caught my breath. I wasn’t stupid enough to make any quick movements now. I said nothing, but my gaze wandered from his face down to where my dagger had ripped his shirt open as he had knocked me over. Hard abdominals peeked at me through the wrecked fabric and I quickly slid my gaze away. The leg of his pants was also torn… and bloody. I didn’t do that. 

That explained the cursing and the staggering when he came in. He was hurt. 

He caught me staring and covered the injury with his hand. “It’s nothin’ but a flesh wound.” He insisted as he grabbed the torn section of his shirt, courtesy of me, and ripped a length off it. 

He winced and sucked a breath through his teeth as he tenderly set to wrapping the fabric around the wound in the middle of his thigh. 

“Alpha Rockyenaroll caught me unawares.” He mumbled - to me I assume, as a way of explanation. 

“I don’t care.” I finally found my voice as I sat up and brushed the sand off my front. My mind was frantic, but unless I abandoned my shelter and ran out into the freezing desert in the middle of the night, I had to resign myself to the fact he may just be here to stay. If he really did mean me no harm that is. 

Logan looked at me with a raised eyebrow but said nothing. He tied one last knot on his makeshift bandage with a grunt and leaned his head back against the wall behind him, closing his eyes. 

I stared at him a moment before scoffing. “You’re mighty sure of yourself for an injured man who is sharing a cave with someone who just had a knife to his throat.” I sneered, absolutely baffled at his relaxed posture in my presence. 

“Ain’t scared of ya.” He breathed. “Overpowered you easily enough, even with a gash in my leg.” 

Logan cracked an eye open, watching for my reaction. I didn’t give him one. 

“Suit yourself,” I shrugged, snatching my makeshift bed from his vicinity and setting it back up as far from him as I could. “It’s your funeral.” 

Logan side-eyed me, his mouth quirking, but he said nothing. 

And so we sat, neither of us truly settling, taking turns to glance up, making sure the other wasn’t making any moves. 

I studied him when I knew he wasn’t looking. I’d heard the townsfolk speak of him, some feared him, some insisted he was nothing but a violent criminal, while some remembered the good, kind friend he was. I couldn’t confirm nor deny any of it. All I knew was what I had learned here tonight. He was taller than I thought he would be, broader. His muscles were evident under the knit of his top, he was exceptionally strong. I couldn’t help but dip my eyes down to the bottom of his shirt - or where it used to be, where his pale, scarred and muscled skin now showed. He still hadn’t removed his bandanna or his hat, which had skewed slightly on his head as he leaned back against the rock, showing his white hair neatly tied back. His eyes were the clearest blue I had ever seen - sharp, brooding, possibly handsome… and looking right at me. 

“Like what you see, darlin’?” He winked one of those damned eyes at me. 

He was also disgustingly arrogant. “Just stay over your side, prick.”

Logan whistled low. “Right nasty lil mouth on you.” 

I decided right then that I hated him. 

I folded my arms with a huff and looked away so hard I nearly cricked my neck. A cold breeze swept through cave and I involuntarily shuddered. I felt Logan’s eyes on the side of my face. 

“Are ya cold?” He asked, as if he was the stupidest man in the world. 

“Of course I am. It’s the desert! It’s fucking freezing on a good night.” I snapped. 

He sucked his teeth. “Well, ya didn’t come very well prepared.” He noted as he glanced around at the stuff I had bought over from the buggy and had shoved into corners for safe keeping. 

“I am not on a fun little camping trip here, you know!” I turned to look at him again, throwing my hands out in exasperation. “My damn vehicle broke down, otherwise I would have been safely tucked in my bed in Sandrock right now! I needed shelter for the night.” 

“And you didn’t think to grab some firewood on ya way in?” He teased. 

If looks could kill, he would be a pile of ash blowing around the cavern right now. 

He held up his hands in mock apology. “You city folk don’t think of the necessity’s sometimes is all I’m sayin’.” 

“First of all, I didn’t see you come in with any wood either.” I shot him a glare. “And secondly, you don’t even know where I’m from.” 

He raked his eyes over me making my skin prickle. “You’re the new builder in Sandrock. Can only assume you came from some big fancy city lookin’ for a change of scenery.” He winced as he stretched his injured leg out in front of him. “Maybe you thought you could fix my old town, but realizin’ now it’s a far cry from fixable, eh?” 

He framed it as a question, but clearly didn’t want an answer. He looked lost in a memory or a thought, I wasn’t sure which, so I ignored it. 

“How do you know who I am?” 

“I still keep an eye on the place, Lucia.” He said simply. 

I narrowed my eyes at him, choosing to ignore the fact that he knew my name. “Pretty sure it would make some of the town folk uneasy if they knew you were still keeping tabs on the happenings of Sandrock.” 

“Does it look like I give a shit?” Logan looked at me straight on, a challenge in his eyes. When I gave none, he continued. “It’s my town, it was my Pa’s town. They might have abandoned me, but I’d never abandon them.” He pressed his lips together, almost like he’d said too much.

I watched him closely, trying to read his face, but it quickly returned to the hard mask he’d been wearing before. He took the cape from around his shoulder and threw it at me, hitting me square in the side of the head. 

“Hey! What was-“ I started. 

“Ya cold. I run hot. Get warm and go to sleep. You got a long walk ahead of you tomorrow if ya vehicle is out of action.” He tossed the comment over his shoulder as he lay down on his side facing away from me. “I won’t hurt you.” 

And for some insane reason, I believed him. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

My arms were tangled in fabric, that was the first thing my sleepy mind became aware of as the morning light seared through my closed eyelids. I groaned with annoyance and tried to tug myself free, my nose catching the scent of dust, leather, gunpowder and sweat. I wrenched my eyes open, shoving what I now realised was Logan’s cape, off my body. How could I have forgotten I was in the damn cave with Logan the Light-damned bandit, of all people. 

My lip was curled with a little bit more disgust than I actually felt as I shook the cape off me, just in case he was looking. 

I glanced over to where he had fallen asleep hours ago, and was genuinely surprised to see he had not left in the night. He still lay facing the wall, his hat forgotten in the sand. I silently stood and thought over my options. 

I could grab my things and sneak out, not that I would get far with a broken buggy and loaded like a pack-horse in the desert. 

I could carry out a citizens arrest, but he would probably overpower me and escape anyway. 

I could- 

My pondering was cut short when I noticed him shudder. I looked more closely at him, only to realise he was breathing rapidly and was covered in a sheen of sweat. 

“Logan?” I said carefully. 

No response. I edged closer, a trickle of concern entering my thoughts. 

“Logan, it’s morning. I thought you’d be gone by now …don’t make me stab you.” I pushed for a reaction. 

A weak grunt was his only response as he seemed to curl tighter in on himself, shivering again. Quickly, I grabbed the cape I had unceremoniously discarded moments ago and knelt beside him, wrapping it around his broad shoulders. I felt his forehead with the back of my hand - he was burning up. 

I shifted my gaze down to his leg. The torn shirt he had used as a bandage was soaked through with blood and the skin I could see on either side was a deep red with streaks extending down his leg. I moved to unwrap it, but as soon as I touched it, Logan jerked and screamed. 

“I’m sorry!” I shushed him, “I need to look.” 

I placed one hand firmly on his side to keep his body from jerking again, and with the other, I set to unwrapping the blood-soaked bandage. He squirmed under my grip, but he was too weak to truly shake me off. I knitted my brows together as the bandage finally came loose, peeling the stuck fabric from his leg as he roared in pain again. 

“This is bad.” I whispered to myself as I sat back on my heels and I wracked my brain. His wound was infected and likely getting worse by the second. It was streaked with red, swollen and oozing blood. My mother had taught me a few things as a nurse, but I was in the middle of the damn desert, what could I do? I unsheathed one of my daggers and carefully cut away his pant leg as far up as I dared, giving myself as much skin to work with as possible. 

I rushed for one of my water canisters, loosened the top and slowly pouring the clean water over the wound in his thigh. Logan’s wild, feverish eyes finally sprang open and if I could see beneath his bandanna, I knew he would be baring his teeth at me. 

“Don’t bite your damn tongue off, I don’t have time to deal with that too.” I glared at him with more malice than I felt. He glared right back, fisting the sand beneath him. 

I kept pouring until the canister was empty and the wound looked much cleaner. It was still painfully infected though and I couldn’t help but wince at it. If I left him here, he would probably die, that thought alone put a heavy weight on my shoulders as I looked at him. I felt pity for him, and I think he knew it. 

“I’ll… be fine.” He gritted out. “Leave.”

“Make me.” I challenged. 

He stared he down for a moment, before his mind lost the battle against his own body and his eyes fell shut with fatigue. I took the reprieve to stand and pace, my mind whirring. I eyed my bags, mentally shuffling through everything I knew to be in them. 

Ore, clothes, weapons, jerky, water, spare parts, aloe vera, jewellery, dye - 

I stopped pacing. Aloe! I raced to my bags and rifled through them, looking for the airtight bag of thick leaves somewhere amongst my belongings. I silently thanked myself for stocking up in Atara. Light knew, the sun scorched my skin and some days aloe vera was the only thing that could soothe the sting and redness. I had learned from my mother long ago that it also had remarkable antibacterial and antiseptic properties. 

I found the bag and tore it open, discarding the damp cloth keeping it fresh. I rushed back to Logan whose eyes were flicking fitfully under his eyelids. 

“Now this is going to sting, okay? But bear with me.” I warned, unsure if he was even conscious to hear me. 

I snapped the bottom of a leaf and watched the aloe glisten to the surface where it had been exposed. I held Logan down again with my spare hand, before gritting my own teeth. As gently as I could, I ran the plant over his wound. 

Logan screamed and screamed, but he had the presence of mind to hold himself as still as he could. Only when the wound and the surrounding skin was slick with a thick layer of aloe did I pause and survey my work. I had gone through half of my stock of leaves, but I didn’t care. It would have to do. I had nothing else. 

The grunts of pain quieted down, and his body went limp again. I murmured reassurances to him as I returned to my bags and pulled out a clean shirt and an unopened bottle of my favourite expensive whiskey. I shook my head with the grief of wasting a good drop like this, I had planned to save it for the nights I would need a pick-me-up after Yan the dickhead commissioner gave me the shits too badly. But it had to be done. I tore my shirt into long strips, throwing them into a spare airtight bag, followed by a drenching of whiskey, and let them soak for a minute. 

I stepped carefully back over to Logan and kneeled beside him again, taking a moment to brush his sweaty white hair from his flushed face. I was sure he was asleep, but the frown line between his eyebrows persisted. I brushed a finger over it, willing it to smooth out. My fingers then trailed down the side of his face and brushed the top of his bandanna, still in place over his nose and mouth. I moved to pull it off, when his hand clamped onto my wrist and I gasped in surprise. 

“Don’t.” Was all he said, his blue eyes open and boring into my green ones. So I didn’t. 

I turned my back to him. “This will sting.” I warned as I took a whiskey-soaked rag out of the bag. He nodded stiffly and braced himself with his hands curled in the sand. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, grunting as I gently laid the rag over his wound and tied it tightly to stem any more bleeding, sealing it from any more bacteria and dirt. I sat back and let out a breath. “There.” I announced, wiping my hands on my pants. 

Logan panted next to me, his eyes slowly opening. He watched me for a moment before glancing down at the now covered wound and his cut pant leg. “You ruined my best pants.” He said weakly. 

I scoffed with fresh fury. “Well, what a surprise! I save your damn life and-“ I went to push myself to my feet, but his fingers curled around my wrist again, this time gently. 

“Thank you.” He breathed, it seemed sincere, but there he was a little out of it right now. His face was still coated in sweat, his eyes had large black bags under them, and he looked deathly pale.

I calmed, realising he was only trying to annoy me with his previous comment. I nodded at him, words coming up short as he let go of my wrist. “You need to rest.” I decided, finally getting to my feet. I carefully shook the sand off his cape and laid it over his body, careful to not have it touch his leg. Then I retrieved the pack I had used as a pillow last night and gently lifted his head to place it under him. He didn’t have the strength to fight me on any of it. 

I filled a small metal cup with water and lifted it to his lips. “Drink.” I demanded, he did so eagerly. “Now sleep.” And so, he did. 

He slept. Then he slept some more. Only rousing slightly when I forced him to sip more water. 

The daylight hours ticked by as I tinkered with my deceased sand buggy some more, my desperation for it to work seeming to just make it splutter and steam with more fervour. When I got too frustrated, I spent time traipsing the area, gathering dead wood for a fire tonight. 

Eventually I gave up on my vehicle. I scribbled a note of what happened and my whereabouts in case of any passers by - omitting the fact that I was currently keeping company with a known bandit - and stuck it to the windscreen. I miserably made my way back to the cave, but at least tonight I wouldn’t freeze. 

By the time Logan’s eyes began to flicker open, I had lit the fire and was stirring a questionable soup with frankly, very few ingredients. It’s not like I had packed for my trip with the idea that I would be needing to cook dinner for two in a cave. 

I watching him struggle to sit up out of the corner of my eye. His hand hovered over his leg wound before glancing toward the darkness outside. 

“You stayed… all day?” 

I rolled my eyes as a stirred the watery soup. “Like I was going to leave you half dead in the desert. I am not so heartless.” 

We looked at each other over the fire. The flicker of the flames made the shadows of his upper face seem sharper and hollowed, but at least some colour had returned to his skin. His hat had been taken off last night, but he still had that damned bandanna on, it surely must be suffocating. He saw me looking. 

“Why don’t you-“ I started. 

“Don’t ask me to take it off.” He interrupted, guessing correctly what I was about to say. 

“Why?” 

He surveyed me as if weighing up whether I was worth speaking to. 

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I just saved your life today or anything.” I griped. 

“I will take it off when I have avenged my pa.” He said flatly, avoiding my interested gaze.

I sensed the entirety of that conversation was at an end, I didn’t push further. I know his father was quarantined with an illness and was killed when the church had collapsed on him during Logan’s attempts to rescue him. I can’t imagine how difficult that would have been for him. The guilt must eat him alive. But to avenge him? It was an interesting choice of words.

Instead, I dished out the disgusting soup into a rough looking bowl I found in one of my bags and handed it to Logan. “Fair warning,” I said as I spooned some into a cup for myself, “the main ingredient is water. The rest is torn up jerky, a single cut up potato and a smattering of oregano.” He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. I shrugged. “I’m making do with what I’ve got, if you don’t want it, I’ll eat it myself.” 

He lowered his gaze, picked up his utensil and started spooning it into his mouth under the bandanna. “Ain’t the worst thing I’ve ever eaten.” He muttered between mouthfuls. 

“What’s the worst thing you’ve had then?” I was genuinely curious. Life on the run was probably challenging at best.

“Haru and I had to survive off rotten tomato’s and spoiled dried Sandacuda for a week.” He shuddered. I grimaced. He continued. “We’re in hiding obviously, we can’t just go wanderin’ around huntin’, or go into a store and buy what we need. The Civil Corps were actually doing a decent job for once and were getting close t’ sniffing our hiding place out. We had to lay low. That means we, nor our…” he paused and glanced at me quickly, “outside contact, could stock up.”

I tucked the piece of information about an ‘outside contact’ away for further thought later and I shuddered, trying not to imagine what rancid fish and tomato for a week would taste like.

“Where is Haru?” I asked, suddenly wondering where Logan’s little sidekick actually was, like I had forgotten that his wanted poster was stuck right next to Logan’s all around Sandrock. I hadn’t even considered him until now and I nervously glanced at the entrance as if expecting him to come in guns blazing. 

Logan chuckled quietly. “I left him at the hideout while I went… to run errands.” He blinked down at his leg. “Rockyenaroll surprised me, I had stayed in this cave a few nights ago, so came back to wait out the dark and, well, ya know the rest.” 

I nodded and tipped my cup up, draining the last of my ‘soup’ before standing. “I probably should change that dressing.” I scooped up the bag of soaking bandages and remaining aloe vera and kneeled in front of Logan. He eyed me in surprise, a mischievous look coming over his face. 

“I am going to stop you right there.” I held a hand in front of his face. “If you say a single thing about me being on my knees for you, I don’t give a shit, I will slap that bandanna clean off your face.”

He stilled, before throwing his head back in a genuine laugh. “I like that mouth of yours, missy.” Was all he said. 

I tutted, hiding my hint of a smile before setting about gently changing the scrap of bandage and smearing more aloe on. I only slightly relished the way the man in front of me cursed in pain. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

By the time I woke, the fire had long since burned to ash, and Logan was sat propped against the caves mouth watching the sunrise bleed across the horizon. I stood and stretched, still feeling worn down after the last few days, as well as waking constantly during the night to make sure Logan was still breathing.

“You look better.” I nodded at him as I dusted sand from my clothes. I made a face as I caught a whiff of myself. I had been in the same clothes for 3 days now without a bath. Light save me. I joined Logan by the entrance, careful to stay far enough away that he couldn’t smell how ripe I was, though, he was likely smelling very similar by now. 

“I feel better.” He agreed. 

We sat together quietly for a few minutes until the sun had risen into the sky. I let my mind be blank for the first time in days in that peaceful moment. But soon enough, the worries snuck back in. Thoughts of getting back to Sandrock, how people were probably worried for my whereabouts by now, what I would do with my buggy and all my bags. Not to mention if I could even leave Logan to fend for himself in his state. 

“I can hear the cogs in ya brain turnin’ from here. I was enjoying a peaceful morning up till now.” He scolded me sarcastically. “You’re wondering how to get back to Sandrock, ain’t ya?” 

He watched me as I sighed heavily. I turned to look at him, blatantly studying what I could see of his face. If anyone had told me I would have spent the last 2 days in a cave with Logan the wanted bandit, I would have told them they were crazy. Why did I feel somewhat at ease with him now? Maybe I was the crazy one. 

“Yes.” I finally said as he had started to shift uncomfortably under my gaze. “I’m at a loss at what I will do. This road isn’t used a lot. I think it’s a long shot that any other traveller will pass by any time soon.” I traced lines in the sand with my finger, thinking over my options. 

“I might be able to help.” Logan winked at me. 

I watched him struggle to stand, waving off my offer to help as I rushed to stand with him. He leaned heavily against the rock behind him, reaching up under his bandanna and an ear-piercing whistle tore through my eardrums. I shouted with surprise and slapped my hands over my ears. 

“What the fuck!” I cried. But Logan’s eyes only smiled at me as he held up a finger, a silent demand to wait. 

So, we waited. A minute ticked by, then two. Then suddenly, a thunder of hooves came tearing around the outcrop we stood under, and a huge horned goat came to a skidding halt in front of us. He was laden with a saddle, bags and even had his own pair of sand-goggles. I gaped at the beast, then gaped at Logan. 

“This is Rambo.” He said proudly, staggering forward to pet the animal on the side of the neck. 

Frustration tore out of me as I stepped forward and punched Logan hard in the arm, no longer caring he was injured. His face dropped and he yelped, holding his now sore arm. Rambo snorted in warning. 

“Are you shitting me, Logan?” I cried with fury. “You had a fucking goat a whistle away this whole time while I tended to you and stressed about our survival? Stressed about how I would get home?” I moved to shove him again, but he sidestepped faster than thought he would be able to with his injury. 

“Woah there!” He held his hands up in front of him. “I knew Rambo weren’t anywhere near me that first night. I was firmly on foot and with that wind howlin’, he wouldn’t have been hearing any whistle. Then the next day I was too zonked, as you know, to be whistlin’ for anyone! Or I would have!” He huffed. “You think I would have been hanging around here if I didn’t have to be?”

I barked a forced laugh at his gall. “Oh of course not! Because I’m such terrible company - what, with me tending to you, saving your life, cooking you meals, feeding you water, using my good supplies on you and all!” 

“I didn’t ask ya to do none of that!” Logan threw his hands up in frustration. 

“No! You didn’t! Because you were half dead!” I shouted at him. “You think I was just going to let you die?” I couldn’t believe I had felt comfortable around this man a mere 5 minutes ago. 

“Ya should have! What am I to you? What are ya gonna tell your precious Sandrock folk about where you been? You gon’ mention the fact you were aiding a wanted criminal?” He snapped. 

I paced a few steps, arms flung wide, my voice ricocheting off the outcrop walls.

“You sit there acting all smug with your mystery goat while I’ve been tearing myself apart trying to keep us - keep you alive. You don’t even thank me! You just, what? Whistle up your damn ride like it’s a joke?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “I told ya—he weren’t close enough! You think I wanted to be laid out like some useless sack of bones while you fussed over me? That’s your mistake, not mine.”

“Mistake?” I spun on him, fury burning up my throat. “It was a mistake to stop you bleeding out in the dirt? To stop you burning up with fever? To waste my water, my recourses, my sleep—” I jabbed a finger into his chest. “—all because you’re too proud and too stubborn to admit you need help?”

He caught my wrist mid-jab, grip rough but trembling from his own weakness. His voice dropped, dangerous. “I didn’t ask for ya damn help. And you don’t get to throw it in my face now like it makes you better than me.”

Rambo stamped the ground, snorting at the rising tension.

My breath came hard, ragged. “Better than you? Light, Logan, I don’t want to be better than you. I helped you because it was the right thing to do! I just—” I yanked my wrist free and shoved him back against the rock, ignoring his hiss of pain. “I thought at this point you—” My voice cracked. I hated that it cracked. “I thought you trusted me.”

He flinched like I’d hit him harder than before. For a heartbeat, I saw it, the guilt. The soft edge under all his barbs and his jokes. Then his walls slammed back up, and his eyes narrowed bitterly. 

“Trust gets people killed.”

Something inside me snapped. “Oh such a tortured soul!” My voice raised again. “Fuck, Logan, you’re not the only one who’s lost someone!” I shouted, the desert swallowing my voice. “You think your pain is special? That no one else knows what it’s like to bleed for this town? To lose family, to carry that every damn day, to start all over again?”

I saw his jaw slacken, like words were forming and dying before they left his lips. He looked at me like he’d never seen me before, like maybe I’d just ripped the bandanna off without touching it.

Maybe I felt a bit of my own guilt, throwing his father’s death and his own grief in his face like that. But Light help me, I nearly had steam coming out of my ears. 

Logan took a slow, deliberate step toward me, forcing me to step back, only to feel the cold rock wall against my spine. He closed the gap again, close enough that the air between us felt charged, almost humming.

He didn’t touch me, but he didn’t need to. He surrounded me, all my senses were full of him. His blue eyes locked onto mine - burning, searching, demanding answers I refused to give. But I didn’t look away.

My tongue darted over my lower lip before I could stop it, a nervous habit. His gaze dropped just for a second to track the movement, then snapped back to mine, sharper now.

I held his stare for a single, defiant heartbeat longer. But when his silence stretched, heavy and unyielding, I broke it. Not with words, but by looking away. Shoving past him, I stormed into the cave and began jamming my belongings into my satchel, no care for order, only speed.

“And where are ya going to go exactly?” His voice cut through the air, low, hoarse, like disdain forced through clenched teeth. He had limped after me, but there was strain in the sound, more than anger alone.

I refused to let him have the upper hand. My tone matched his, sharp as glass.
“I don’t know,” I snapped over my shoulder. “Back to my vehicle. Away from you. Pretty sure that’s a win for both of us.”

Silence. Heavy. Waiting. I could feel his eyes on my back, could feel the words building on his tongue, and dying there.

He crossed to the far side of the cave, fastening that ridiculous yakboy hat onto his head with slow, deliberate movements. His cape followed, but he didn’t turn right away.

“Suit yourself,” he said at last, though softer than before.

I froze, just for a second, expecting… something. A reason. A fight. Anything.

Instead, I heard the scrape of his boots, the awkward shift as he hauled himself onto Rambo, and then the retreating hoofbeats.

Just like that, he was gone.

I stopped and flopped onto my back. The rough stone ceiling loomed above, but all I could hear was the echo of hooves fading into silence. My breath punched out of me. He actually had left me here alone. Three days – barely – that’s all it had been. I had hauled him back from deaths door, kept him fed, hydrated, alive. And for what? For him to leave like it was nothing? Like I was nothing? Like he isn’t riding around on that damn goat with his dumb little cape because I had made it so?

I barked out a bitter laugh, but it caught in my throat, splintering into something sharp. Light, I was such an idiot. All that effort, all that worry, and he couldn’t even stay long enough to say bye.

Not that I had either… I did kind of push him away.

I wasn't perfect. Maybe I had panicked. But the asshole just left me in the dust! Why would I think he trusted me? After all, he is a wanted criminal, only looking out for himself. He used me and then left me. 

About 3 lonely hours later I finally reached my buggy again and still seething, I threw all my bags, scarce water and food onto the seat. I’d officially been left to rot in the middle of the desert. 

It pained me that I’d waited. I had laid in that cave, my things strewn around me, and I had waited. Stupidly thinking he might come back. 

He didn’t. 

Traitorous tears stung my eyes as I kicked the tires of the buggy again and again. What did it matter if I gave myself a flat tire? The damn thing was useless to me. 

The sun was high in the sky now and I cursed myself for not waiting in the cave until the worst of the sun had subsided. I resigned myself to waiting by my buggy, I couldn’t spend another second in that cave, with the smell of him, the memory of him, clinging to those rocky walls. I had more chance of catching the attention of a traveler here on the road, than tucked away in some crappy cave that reeked of bandit. 

I whiled away the hours dozing in the sweltering cab of my buggy. I hated to admit I was starting to weaken from the heat, lack of food and rationing of my water. If a boxing jack set its sights on me now, I’m afraid to say I would probably lose. I had considered starting to walk, but it was a dangerous game to leave your source of shelter with minimal food and water to start wandering the desert.

The sun was on its way back down the other side of the sky as I’d just started another dangerous doze, when I saw dust rising on the horizon. I sat bolt upright rubbing my eyes, wincing as a blossoming headache clanged in my skull. I squinted, and sure enough, it was dust being kicked up by something. Another vehicle? Someone on a mount? 

I jumped out of the cab and frantically waved my tired arms above my head, hoarsely shouting for their attention. My heart soared for a moment, my foggy brain thinking it was Logan returning for me, but of course it wasn’t. 

A yakmel came into sight. I recognized it as a hire mount from Cooper’s Ranch, with a slender blonde woman sitting astride it.  

“Grace?” I was stunned. I had never seen her so far from Sandrock. 

“Howdy partner,” she smiled, her eyes flitted across me and toward my buggy. “Having some trouble?” 

“How’d you know I was here?” 

“Didn’t.” She shrugged. “I like to come out on rides on my days off. I hire me one of Cooper’s mounts and I go gallivanting.”

“Alone?” I questioned. “We are hours from Sandrock.” Grace and I were friends, and she had never mentioned this as an activity she partook in. I was often running around the desert myself, sometimes far from Sandrock, and I had never once seen her. 

“Only when I need to think. And I needed to think today. You should be thankin’ your lucky stars that my mind was busy enough to bring me this far out.” Her eyes twinkled. 

I didn’t have the brain power to question it any further. I gave her one last lingering look before turning to gesture at my buggy. “Engines busted. You think your yakmel could drag it back with us?” 

Grace reached down and patted the side of the huge yakmel’s neck. “I picked a strong one. It’ll take us a while longer to get back to town, but I think we can get there just after dark if we hurry.” 

Night had well and truly fallen before Sandrock finally came into view up ahead. Grace had been shoving eel jerky, soy sauce fried rice and water down my throat in between the few hours of my dozing against her back. I had also apologized for what I’m sure was an assault on her nostrils. 

The buggy trundled uselessly behind us, strapped to the yakmel with rope. Surprisingly, Grace didn’t ask me many questions about my time stranded in the desert. She only made sure I was okay and chattered lightly about a new dish she was working on at the Saloon, one I wasn’t overly keen to try judging how the rest of her dishes usually tasted. 

Eventually, we finally reached my yard, and I slid off the mount from behind Grace. I untied the rope, letting it fall to the ground, leaving the broken buggy where it had rolled to a stop. 

I stepped up beside Grace. “Thank you.” I said, earnestly. “I would nearly have died without you today. That’s the last time I travel through the desert without preparing for worst case scenario.” My cheeks flushed at my stupidity. Usually, I had enough water and food to keep my stamina up for days, but I hadn’t wanted the extra baggage for my trip, so I cockily had decided against it. 

“We all make mistakes.” Grace chuckled. “Don’t beat yourself up about it, you’re home now. Go take a bath and tuck yourself into bed, ya poor thing.” She reached down and patted my sandy head from her position on the mount. I slapped her hand away with a laugh. 

“Thanks again, Grace.”

“You’d be lost without me!” She called back to me as she urged her yakmel forward.  

I watched her go for a moment, thanking the Light that Grace had been at the right place at the right time, before turning and walking into my home. I peeled my sandy, sweaty clothes off me as I beelined for the bathroom, discarding them as I went.

“Sorry Burgess,” I muttered, “but to hell with conserving water right now.” 

I filled the tub with steaming water, sat in it, and scrubbed until my skin burned, until every trace of sand, sweat, grime - and bandit blood - swirled away in the murk. I drained it all, watching the filth vanish down the pipe, then refilled it, scattering lavender salts that clouded the surface in pale purple swirls. Sliding back into the heat, I sank until the water hugged my ears, muffling the world. Bliss - scented and false.

I stayed until my fingers shriveled, until the quiet left me alone with the echo of the last few days. The desert heat, the fear, the way everything had slipped out of my control. Maybe it was my fault. I should’ve checked my vehicle properly. Should’ve prepared better. Shouldn’t have snapped at Logan when his damn goat came trotting up like salvation on four legs.

But no. No, screw that. What an asshole. He made it sound like my dragging him back from death was some burden he’d been forced to carry. Like my presence was poison, like my hands on him - bandaging, feeding, keeping him alive, were something foul. How dare he spit on what I gave him? The water rippled as I surged upright, sloshing over the sides. Anger felt better than shame. Anger was clean.

Wrapping myself in a soft white towel, I muttered under my breath, every word another barb flung at the empty room. Unbelievable. Stubborn. Ungrateful. Outlaw bastard.

So much for a relaxing bath. 

I slipped into soft sleep clothes and burrowed beneath my blankets, the fabric cool against my still aching skin. For the first time in days, I was surrounded by four safe walls – walls no bandit could stumble through, no desert wind could claw past. My bed had never felt so decadent. Even with my mind thrashing and replaying every mistake, every shouted syllable from today, exhaustion dragged me under. The mattress caught me like an anchor, pulling me into a heavy, mercifully dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

I open my bleary eyes, dry thirst and rumbling hunger threatening to upend me. My skin still felt raw, my headache still beat against my skull… and my anger still rippled through my body. Ignoring the tug of fatigue, I forced myself out of bed and down the stairs, kicking aside the dirty clothes that I had tugged off and scattered through my house last night on the way up to the bath.

The light that poured through my windows felt surreal in comparison to the way it had poured through the mouth of the cave I had spent the previous 2 nights in. I closed my eyes and grounded myself by listening to the water in my kettle heating next to me, the cry of Cooper’s rooster from the Ranch down the track, and the distant ting of pickaxe on metal from Rocky’s Scapyard up the hill.

I settled on my couch, hot cup of strong coffee now cradled in my hands, and I tried my best not to think about a certain white-haired traitor. I felt restless, I needed to go do something, keep my hands and my mind busy. I may have still be exhausted and a little weaker than I would have hoped, but maybe a bite to eat at the Saloon and taking a few easy commissions would help.

Draining the dregs of my coffee, I placed the cup in the sink and made my way to the Commerce Guild. I knew the commissions would be stacked up after my weeklong absence – a few days more than planned.

I almost literally ran into Mi-an as she ran full speed up the steps of the Guild in front of me.

“Oh, Lucia!” She cried in fright, stumbling back a few steps. “I am so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” She never really did, she was always in a hurry. “I heard you slept rough the last few nights, broken buggy? Did you need a hand fixing it?”

How did she already know? Damn, Grace had a big mouth. She meant well, Mi-an, and she was a lovely girl, but she was almost the direct opposite of me personality-wise. “Hey Mi-an,” I smiled at her warmly, and it wasn’t pretend, “thanks, but it’s alright, I have it handled.”

I didn’t. But I really didn’t feel like looking at that buggy any time soon. It could rot for all I cared right now.

I held open the door for her and we walked into the Guild together, silently praying Yan wouldn’t be here with his tiny feet kicked up on the desk as he usually was.

“Ah, girls!” His horrible grating voice boomed the second the door closed behind us. “8:06am, 6 minutes after opening! I would have thought this town meant more to you than that? Look at all these commissions just waiting for you!’ He flicked his hand and the commissions board carelessly, before going back to stroking the caterpillar across his face he called a moustache. “It’s almost about to collapse under the weight of all these overdue requests.”

He didn’t actually give a shit about the towns people, he cared about his cut and how we made him look.

“I’ve been gone for a week, Yan, give us a break.” I snipped, turning my back on him and perusing the board. Yan rarely pressed me, he knew I wouldn’t back down to his demeaning words. Mi-an on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. Her placid and kind nature was taken advantage of by people like Yan.

“Mi-an has been here every day though, haven’t you? But the commissions have barely seemed to dwindle. Your pace has been lacking.” He had rounded on Mi-an, her big brown eyes cast down in shame.

“Back off, Yan.” I stepped toward him in warning, dropping my voice low. The lanky little man put his hands up feigning innocence and shuffled back toward his desk. I gently took the girls arm and guided her toward the board. “I am going to take a few easy ones today. You only take what you can do, don’t let him bully you.” I muttered to her as I tugged down a couple of requests for wood planks and a bloodstone core. I had most of these things in storage already.

Mi-an nodded and shuffled forward to take a couple. “Are you okay though, Lu? You look pretty beat up.” She glanced sideways at me.

I scoffed in mock hurt. “I really look that bad, huh?” I playfully tapped her with my elbow as she started to splutter an apology. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I am going to take it easy today. You want to grab a bite at Owen’s first?” I knew she would say no, but I extended the offer anyway.

“No, not today.” She shook her head as we left the commerce guild without so much as a mumbled goodbye to Yan. She waved her commissions in front of her. “Lots to do! You rest up though, ya hear?” I nodded to her, and she took off running back toward her yard, giving me a wave over her shoulder.

I shook my head as I watched her figure bound up the steps and around the back of Owen’s saloon. Perhaps I should commission her to have a break for once, it would probably be the only way to get her to slow down.

I meandered my way over to the Saloon, shouldering the door open as I stuffed my commissions into my pocket. I looked up and smiled at Owen behind the bar. “Morning Owen!” I waved.

He waved back, his eyes sparkling with the questions I know he was busting to ask me, courtesy of Grace – whom I could hear rattling around in the kitchen off to the side. “Morning Lu, you probably need a giant yakmilk to get your strength back up after wandering the desert for 3 days, huh?”

I rolled my eyes in the direction of the kitchen. “Only if it comes with a big side of omelette and hashbrown!”

“Coming right up!” He grinned, the rings on his fingers flashing in the light as he chucked a tea towel over his shoulder and strode to the kitchen. I settled into a bar seat to wait for my food.

It’s only when I am almost done eating my food 20 minutes later, when Owen dares to start asking me the questions he has been dying to get off his chest since I walked in.

“So, Grace said she found you out Dustwater Flats way? Not many come along that route, you’re lucky she was out there”

I stabbed a piece of omelette with my fork. “Why was Grace all the way out there?” I ask him, trying to redirect what I was sure was about to be a full inquest.

Owen scratched his bearded chin. “Not entirely sure, she said she rides to clear her mind. Didn’t know she went out that far though, I will have to advise against that.”

I grunted half-heartedly in reply, too focused on scraping every morsel of food off my plate.

“It’s funny,” Owen began, and I paused, “Some folks say they’ve been seeing Logan and his gang around Dustwater Flats area.” He cocked his head at me with interest. “Did you see anything?”

I almost choked on my food and saw heads turn my way – Amirah eating silently on a soft chair behind me, Burgess who was looking through the menu down the bar from me and Justice, who had just walked through the door. “uh.. no, of course not.” I forced a light laugh. “Imagine the kind of bad luck I would have to have to break down in the middle of the desert and have a run in with Logan’s gang!”

Bad luck indeed.

Justice came and pulled up a stool next to mine. “I did hear about your buggy breakdown, Lucia. You been to see the doctor for a check up?” He asked.

“No, I am alright, honest. Just needed a good sleep and some good food.” I pointed at the now empty plate in front of me. “Check and check!”

Justice gave me a long look. “So, you didn’t see nothin’ out in the desert? No tracks? No sign of them?”

I swallowed and shook my head. “Nope, definitely not.”

“You looked a little roughed up when I glimpsed you and Grace comin’ back into town last night. Nothing serious I hope?”

I shook my head again. “Spent 2 nights sleeping rough in the desert, Justice, I wasn’t exactly going to be coming back looking like I have come fresh out of Pablo’s salon!” I joked with a stiff laugh.

He silently regarded me. “And you were alone out there the whole time?”

My mouth went dry, but I forced a smile onto my face. “Unfortunately, yes. Was a lonely and miserable few days.” I knit my eyebrows together. “Sounding a lot like you suspect me of something here, I can’t imagine what.” Justice was my friend, but he could turn into quite the cop when he wanted to. It made me sweat that he felt like now, with me, was the time to be that cop. It me uncomfortable, like I was entirely see-through.

Justice smirked, I couldn’t tell how friendly it was. “Just makin’ sure you’re staying on the right side of the law is all.”

I smiled back stiffly. “Right, well, I do hope you’d trust me a bit more than to think I would hang around with a gang of bandits, Jus.” I didn’t give him a chance to reply to my thinly veiled jab as I gently pushed my empty plate away from me toward a watching Owen. “Thanks a lot for breakfast, Owen, got a bunch of commissions to catch up on, so I will see y’all later, alright?”

I ignored the stares of the few others that were in the Saloon that early in the morning and fought to keep my footsteps light and casual as I exited the establishment, despite wanting to run back to the safety of my yard.

My mind was reeling and a bead of sweat trickled down my back as I went over the insane conversation I had just had. I wanted to quickly get back to my yard, get to work and let my mind unravel this mess in a controlled manner.

I managed to get to the train tracks before someone caught my arm.

“Grace!” I said louder than I expected to. “Light, you scared me, sneaking up on me like that!”

She gave a lopsided grin and let my arm go. “Sorry. Just wanted to see how you were doin’?”

I faced her properly, searching her eyes for something I wasn’t sure I would find. “I am fine, really. I can’t thank you enough. You saved me last night. It really is quite the coincidence you happened to be where you were.”

The blonde girl shrugged. “I always have good luck. Plus, I have always wanted to be a hero.” She teased before her face turned serious. “You sure you’re telling all them the full story ‘bout the last few days?”

I hesitated. Her too?

“Yes.”

She watched me for a moment, her eyes flickering over my face. Whatever she saw must have satisfied her well enough and she seemed to relax a little. “Good. Wouldn’t want anyone to think you were off gallivanting with a known criminal.” She poked my shoulder playfully. “Don’t worry about Justice. He’s just mad that Logan and Haru are still evading the Civil Corps. So much so, that he’s even suspicious of his own shadow… Or maybe that was Unsuur.” She frowned. “They are both extremely odd in their own ways.” She assured me. “Don’t let his questions rattle you. You done nothin’ wrong.”

I nodded, feeling suddenly uneasy about every conversation I had had today. “Thanks Grace, I mean it. I owe you big time.” I pressed a hand to her arm meaningfully. “But I really do have to get onto some commissions before Yan makes Mi-an pass out.”

She smiled at me, coaxing one out of me too. “No worries, you take it easy.”

I nodded at her before we both turned and walked in opposite directions. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something about Grace was nagging at the back of my mind. I didn’t have time for that though, on top of everything else. I felt the entire town had their eyes on me, and I didn’t understand why.

I finally reached my yard and set to work, it was mind numbing, but in a good way. My easy choices of commissions let my mind tick over with thoughts and questions. Unfortunately though, not a lot of answers. By the time lunch had rolled around, I was sure half the town had come by to make sure I was alright. Most of them didn’t outwardly show any suspicion of me mingling with outlaws. I wasn’t sure what exactly it was that made them even begin to suspect me of it. What was it? Did I reek of bandit? Did I have a big sign on my head saying, ‘hey I saved your enemy’s life’? Tensions around town were high since Logan sabotaged the water tower, but I really didn’t think that warranted by immediate implication for the simple ‘crime’ of having my sand buggy break down in an area that he had been sighted on one or two occasions.

The next week passed much the same, people asked after me and my ‘adventure’ in the desert, but fewer and fewer hinted at me coming across a certain bandit. I just supposed the gossip around the town had turned to something else at this point.

I shouldn’t have worried about my bad luck being stranded in the desert would remain the talk of the town for long though. Qi came jogging in through my gate looking panicked as I was finishing up a commission of aluminium alloy plates for Heidi.

“Builder. Finally, I have been looking for you everywhere!” He panted. I opened my mouth to tell him I had been nowhere but right here the entire week, but I didn’t get the chance before he continued. “I trust your return was uneventful?” I opened my mouth again to tell him he knew darn well it had not been, but he spoke over me. “Excellent. Now, listen closely; I have neither the time nor the patience for dramatic recounting of your desert escapades. A Lucien supply caravan was intercepted by thieves enroute to Sandrock, a rather unfortunate display of poor logistics and even poorer luck. The raiders, whoever they are, made off with significant quantities of water supplies. Not merely inconvenient… catastrophic.”

I stared at the ranting Qi, letting his fast talk and large words wash over me as I tried to take it all in.

Lucien? Why were we getting water supplied from Lucien?

“Sandrock's reserves are already teetering on precarious levels, and without immediate replenishment, the town faces a serious… well, let's call it a 'hydration crisis’. The remaining carts are damaged, wood smashed, axle's splintered, suspension compromised. I require your expertise to restore them to operational standards to bring what is left of the supplies forward into Sandrock. Reinforced wheel bearings, additional shock absorption - oh, and possibly armor plating. Raiders have a vexing habit of returning to previously successful targets.”

I did not have the heart to tell Qi that I was certainly not going to be building armor for a few old Lucien supply carts.

“Now, I would suggest you move expeditiously. Rebuild the transport, recover what was stolen if you have the audacity, and… pay close attention to any clues about who orchestrated this. There is a certain… pattern emerging, and I would hate to think the culprit is someone the town already believes… irredeemable.”

My eyebrows shot up at Qi’s not so subtle suggestion that Logan could be involved in this. “Why would Logan intercept our supplies?” I asked.

“One can’t say for certain, but according to his previous actions against the wellbeing of Sandrock, he would be at top of my list for those who would want to cause direct harm to this town. I need not remind you of the devastation he caused our precious water tower mere weeks ago.” He shook his head with overt sorrow. “Now,” he snapped back to full attention, “Here is a diagram for the type of carts they had been using. They are stranded out past the Eufaula Desert. Get your supplies and meet Mi-an out there posthaste! She has already been alerted and is getting things together also. I will see you later.”

I didn’t even get a chance to mutter a goodbye before Qi was briskly walking back out my gate and back toward the Research Centre.

I shook my head utterly exasperated with that man, it was part of his charm though.

I ran my eyes over the diagram Qi had given me. The repairs looked straightforward, reinforce the axles, replace the cracked boards, and reset the suspension. Easy enough on paper. If I started now, I’d have enough daylight to at least get the carts back into traveling condition.

So I set to work. I cut planks to size, the sharp scent of sawdust mixing with the dry desert air. Springs, bolts, spare bushings, I rummaged through my storage boxes, pulling together anything that might save me a second trip. But as I worked, my mind refused to stay quiet.

Why was water coming from Lucien of all places? Sandrock hardly traded with them, relying instead on Atara or Portia for the occasional shortfall. Lucien was far - too far to be convenient. Were we truly that desperate? 

By the time my thoughts had spiraled for the tenth time, my supplies were packed and my horse, a wiry bay hired from Cooper, was saddled and waiting. I swung into the seat, tightened the straps, and nudged her into a gallop toward the wreckage of the caravan. The sun glared off the dunes like a warning, but I leaned into the ride.

Half an hour later, the wrecked caravan came into view. A few people meandered about, piling the remaining supplies away from the wreckage, nudging broken bits of wood with their toes, and chatting idly amongst themselves alongside… Pen, gleaming in the sunlight like a self-appointed savior. What was he doing here?

“…and as I was saying,” Pen announced, puffing out his chest, “had I been informed of this peril sooner, I would have personally escorted your precious cargo through the most treacherous dunes, without so much as a scratch on a single wheel. Naturally, there is no obstacle too great for a protector of my caliber.”

One of the Lucien merchants frowned, arms crossed. “With respect, sir, what we need now is repairs, not speeches.”

Pen waved a dismissive hand, as if brushing away their concerns like desert gnats. “Patience, good travelers. The Builder’s will arrive shortly. I took the liberty of informing them myself. Rest assured, I will oversee their work to ensure nothing less than perfection.”

I had to hold back my eyeroll as I swung down from my horse just in time to hear a merchant mutter, “Great. An audience,” under their breath.

Brushing off the dust from my shirt, I stepped closer, raising an eyebrow at Pen. “Sounds like you’ve got everything under control here.”

Pen turned, flashing me his best hero’s grin. “Ah, Skinny Arms! There you are, punctual, as always. Fear not, for I have maintained morale in your absence. Now, the floor - or should I say, the sand - is yours.”

The two Lucien travelers and I stared at Pen for a moment before turning from him without a word and walking toward the wreckage.

“So, what happened?” I tried to keep my tone conversational. For some reason, I desperately wanted Logan to not be part of this.

The taller of the pair spoke. “We hardly even know. One minute we are trundling along… next minute, wheels are breaking, wood is splintering, water is spilling, the horses were panicking and most of the supplies are gone. Whoever they were, were in and out before we could understand what was going on.”

The other, a young man with sunburnt cheeks, gestured to the wreck. “Wheel snapped clean through. Could’ve been the terrain but…” He hesitated. “Tracks look strange. Like something was buried under the dune. Gave way as soon as we hit it.”

I crouched beside the nearest cart, running my fingers over the splintered wood. Too sharp. Too sudden. Like it hadn’t been natural at all. My gaze shifted to the few remaining barrels of water, to their lids loose and rough cracks where the water had drained out.

The air shimmered with heat as I crouched beside a cracked axle, I reached into my bag and soon had tools resting in my palms. I heard Mi-an arrive on horseback, she ignored Pen’s calls of half-hearted greeting and came to kneel opposite me, sweat glistening on her brow as she inspected the splintered joint.

“Looks like it was a clean break,” she murmured, tracing a finger along the fracture. “No chance of being weakened over time, looks like this was sudden and forceful.” She stopped short, glancing at Pen, who stood a little too close for comfort, regaling the merchants with a tale of heroism that grew more elaborate with every sentence.

I tightened the first bolt, forcing my thoughts back to the repair. “We’ll reinforce it with spare timber. Metal brackets on the underside for stability.”

“Already on it,” Mi-an replied, passing me a fresh strip of wood. She worked quickly, but I noticed her eyes flicking toward the sand just beyond the wheels. Faint ridges. Not natural. Like something had been buried, then dug up.

By the time we stabilized the axle, my shirt was sticking to my back. I jumped onto one of the carts, reached for the nearest broken barrel, about a quarter full now, hoping to shift it enough to realign the cart’s balance -and that’s when I saw it.

A scrap of parchment, wedged under the rim. Tiny. Torn. Barely more than a tag. But the words were visible, scrawled in hurried, jagged handwriting:

DON’T DRINK.

I stared at the words as I tried to understand what I was looking at and who would have put it there. This water was destined for Sandrock. Why would it not be fit for drinking? I tucked the note into my pocket before Mi-an noticed, forcing my face neutral as Pen called out,
“Almost done, Skinny? These poor travelers are growing parched.”

Parched. The word hit differently now. Had they been drinking from this on their journey? I peered inside the rim of the barrel, rubbing a gloved finger along the inside ridge. It looked normal, it smelled normal. So, what was the issue?

“Can you go tell Pen and the others we are nearly ready to go? I just need to pack up my things.” I said to Mi-an. She nodded and trotted off to relay the message.

As soon as they were all distracted, I dumped the water out of one of my small glass drinking bottles and dipped it into the barrel. I nearly had to go shoulder deep before I reached the little remaining water inside and let the bottle fill. I was putting the cap back on just as the Lucien folk were leading their horses over to strap them to the now movable carts.

I jumped off and gave them the thumbs up. “This will get you to town. Mi-an and I will go over them more carefully tomorrow before you set back off for Lucien. We will ensure you all have a bed at the Saloon.” They nodded at me with weary confirmation.

Mi-an and I watched the caravan move off toward Sandrock. I then nodded to her. “See you back in town, we can go over any more repairs tomorrow morning with them.” She nodded back to me and swung herself up onto her mount.

I noticed Pen lingering out of the corner of my eye, his eyes sweeping the horizon, brow furrowed.

“Everything alright Pen?” I called.

He turned sharply, before smiling those dazzling teeth at me. “Everything is splendid. Let’s get back to Sandrock before night falls and I am forced to protect you from harm.” He moved swiftly to his own horse and mounted it before rocketing off, overtaking Mi-an and the caravan, showering them with sand.

I was about to jump onto my own waiting horse when I noticed a flash from over the closest dune. I froze, one boot already in the stirrup. The flash was quick, like sunlight bouncing off a piece of metal. Not the way light just happens to catch a rock. I glanced toward Mi-an and the caravan, but they were already cresting the next dune, dust trailing behind them. Pen was a speck of motion far ahead, no doubt congratulating himself for his dramatic exit.

I narrowed my eyes and turned toward the dune. If I left now, I could still catch up to the caravan before dark. But if I ignored this and it turned out to be something - or someone - important… I’d kick myself.

Lowering my leg from the stirrup, I made a split decision and began to climb. The sand was soft and my boots sank with every step, forcing me to half-crawl the last few meters. When I reached the top, I stayed low, peering over the ridge.

At first, there was nothing. Just more dunes, the fading sun, and the whisper of wind across sand. Then I saw him.

Logan.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Logan was crouched low near the base of the next dune, half-hidden behind a jagged piece of rock. A spyglass glinted in his hand - the source of the flash. He was watching the caravan roll away.

I ducked instinctively, heart hammering. Why was he here? Watching a supply run from Lucien, no less? I risked another glance. Logan lowered the spyglass and scribbled something into a small leather-bound notebook. He tucked his notebook into a pocket and slowly stood with one hand resting on his hip. At that arrogant stance, I knew he knew I was there.

“You’re far from town,” he said, voice rough, not quite accusing, more… amused.

“Funny. I was about to say the same about you.” I kept my distance, eyes flicking to the worn gun belt slung low at his hips. Same old Logan - reckless, dangerous, irritatingly confident.

His gaze drifted to the satchel at my side that contained the water I had sneakily filled from one of the barrels, along with the note. “Find what ya were lookin’ for?”

I pulled out the scrap of parchment, the one scrawled with sharp letters: Don’t drink. I held it up between two fingers, watching his eyes. “This yours?”

His expression didn’t shift - not much, anyway. Maybe a fraction of a second too long before his answer. “Not mine.”

“Right. Because you’ve always been such an honest man.”

That earned me a faint tilt of his head. “And you’ve always been so quick to judge.”

The heat between us wasn’t just from the sun. Sand whipped around my boots as I closed the gap by a step. “If you didn’t write it, then who did? Someone out here knows that water’s bad. Maybe they set that trap too.”

Logan tilted his head forward, eyes narrowing slightly. “Or maybe you shouldn’t be pokin’ around where you don’t belong.”

There it was. A warning. Or a challenge. Hard to tell with him.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to,” I shot back, “if someone hadn’t ridden off and left me stranded last time we met.”

A muscle jumped above his eyebrow. But his eyes, damn him, stayed fixed on mine, warm and sharp all at once. “You made it back, didn’t ya?” he smirked. “And who was it sayin’ it would be a win for us both for you to be away from me?”

I ignored the second part of his question. “I barely made it back.”

“Then I guess I was right to trust you’d survive. Good thing Grace was there to save the day”. His eyes twinkled.

The air between us crackled.

“How’d you-“

“What’re you gonna do with that there water you collected from the barrel?” He interrupted. “Not drink it I hope?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

The bastard shrugged. He truly infuriated me. I took another step toward him, the sand crunching beneath my boots. Logan didn’t back up.

“Why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong with it?” I asked, low and even, though my pulse was hammering. “Might save us both a lot of time.”

He tilted his head, eyes locked on mine. “Maybe I just like seein’ you stand close enough to smell trouble.”

I huffed. “You think this is funny?”

“No,” he said, voice dipping, a little rougher now. “But I think you like it more than you want to admit. Bein’ out here, nose to nose with me, tryin’ to decide if I’m dangerous or just… hard to quit.”

“Would have been a whole lot easier if I had just let you die in that cave then, huh?” I arched a smile at him. Dangerous... this was dangerous territory. 

“Easier? Yes. But as fun? No.” He teased wryly.

“I guess you must be healing well then? Seeing as you are out here stalking a Lucien caravan and all.”

“Aw, ya almost sound concerned for my wellbeing.” A sardonic tone lilting in his voice.

The wind whipped between us, tugging at my braided hair, carrying the faint scent of him - dust, leather, and something warm that shouldn’t be this distracting.

I swallowed. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He leaned in, just a fraction, enough to make me feel it. “And you didn’t answer mine. What’re you gonna do with that water?”

My eyes unwillingly flitted to where his lips would be, if it weren’t for that damned bandana, then back to his piercing blue eyes. It was killing me not knowing what was under that cut of fabric. He caught the movement, and I just know he was smiling under there.

“What do you want me to do with it?” I asked finally. His proximity to me was making me nervous, but I refused to back up.

He paused for a moment, before saying, “Take it to Qi. Have him test it. Then take the findings to Trudy – and only Trudy.”

“Why?”

He sighed loudly. “Is it always this hard for you to follow instructions?”

“Is it always this easy for you to be a dick?” I shot back.

He blinked, slow, deliberate, like he was weighing how much trouble I could handle. “Only when someone’s got the nerve to stand this close and argue with every word I say.”

I stepped even nearer, ignoring the way my pulse spiked at the scent of him. “And when that person’s right?”

I saw his jaw tense under his bandanna, that slight flicker of restraint, like he was trying not to do something reckless, it made my stomach twist. He hummed deep in his throat. “Right?” He chuckled. “Depends on who’s asking.”

I lifted my chin. “Well, I’m asking.”

The air shifted. For a heartbeat, he leaned closer, close enough that the wind tugged at my braid again, brushing it against his wrist. He tensed, and my breath hitched. I could see the faint outline of his jaw under the bandana, the way his eyes darkened.

“You’ve got that look again,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “The one that says you’re ready to punch me… or kiss me. Hard to tell which.”

I clenched my fists at my sides at his audacity. I shook off the heat crawling up my neck and glared at him. “How dare-“

His eyes flicked down to my lips, then back to mine before cutting me off. “Careful, darlin’. You push me too far out here, and I might just test which it is.”

I stepped back, half defiance, half for my own sanity, keeping my voice steady even as my chest raced. “Then maybe you should leave it to chance. Go on, ride off. I need to go finish my work.”

He flicked his eyes quickly down the length of my body, cocky and infuriating. “I liked watchin’ you work today. But fine… for now.” He straightened, letting the tension snap just enough to mask the heat between us, then turned without looking back and disappeared with a slight limp behind a dune.

I let out a long breath, gripping my satchel tighter, heart still hammering. Dangerous, infuriating, impossible, but impossible to ignore. That entire interaction had taken me by surprise. It had felt… charged. Heated but aggravating. The idea of kissing him… something I hadn’t let myself consider.

No, absolutely not. For all I know, the bottom of his face is horribly disfigured. Maybe he has no mouth at all. He was a wanted criminal, he had robbed a train, had destroyed our towns only source of water, he had a list of crimes as long as my arm under his belt. I wasn’t going to cave to those traitorous thoughts. He was a right piece of work that I wouldn’t lend another single thought to.

I marched back up the sand dune, shadows of the evening now casting long shadows over the sandy desert, the cold starting to seep into the air. I shivered and quickly mounted my horse, not ready to risk spending another night out in the desert.

By the time my horse and I had trotted through the gate to my yard, the sun had set, and the moon was high in the sky. I refilled the stable water and hay feed, letting my horse nibble at a carrot I held in my palm. I stared, only half seeing, toward the train station where I could glimpse the repaired carts dropped there by the Lucien travelers as they rested for the night in town. My spare hand drifted to my satchel and pulled out the bottle with the potentially tainted water. I turned it over in my hand. What was the purpose of it all?

When the horse finished his treat, I patted him on the neck, earning me a pleased huff, and I went inside my home. I didn’t have much in the way of food at the moment, it had been a while since I had been to Arvio’s store to do some shopping. I opened my fridge and sighed, all I had was half a serving of Highwind Fried Rice leftover from Owen’s Saloon. I retrieved the plate and ate it cold, barely tasting the cold mush.

I set the empty plate in the sink and leaned against the counter, bottle still in my hand. The glass was cool, slick with condensation, as though the water inside had a mind of its own, alive and restless. Logan’s words echoed in my head. Take it to Qi. Then take the findings to Trudy - and only Trudy.

Why? What was so important about this sample that it couldn’t go through the usual channels? And more importantly, why trust Logan of all people?

I moved to the window, pulling the yellowed curtain aside just enough to peek out at the moonlit town. Everything looked quiet, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone might be watching. Maybe it was just the desert silence, the kind that presses on your chest and makes you imagine footsteps where there are none. Or maybe… he wasn’t the only one who knew about this water.

I woke with the sun the next morning, Coopers damn rooster crowing its usual noisy song. My sleep had been restless and evasive. I made sure to brew myself an extra strong coffee, today was going to be taxing, I could already tell.

After getting my gear together and being sure to carefully stow the bottle of stolen water in my satchel, I meandered over to the parked-up carts by the train station. Mi-an and I had done a pretty good job yesterday, there was likely not much we would have to do to get them up to scratch enough to make the trip back to Lucien.

Naturally, Mi-an was already there and working. “Morning Mi-an.” I gave her a small wave, fatigue still nipping at my heels.

“Morning Lu, I’ve gone over our repairs from yesterday. Everything still looks to be in place and will hold nicely until they get back home. Only thing I would suggest we do is tighten up the wheel hubs and lubricate the bushings.” She paused her inspection. “I am not sure I truly signed up to be a mechanic when I came here as a builder.”

I laughed. “It seems to me the term ‘builder’ comes with a lot of small print.”

Neither of us really minded. When I came to Sandrock, I was excited to join a small town. Somewhere that people didn’t know me, my life and my loss. Somewhere I could make a real difference and be involved in a tightknit community.

The tall Lucien traveler I spoke to yesterday came to crouch beside me. “Do you think we will be able to head out today?” He asked, running his eyes over our repairs.

I looked at him sideways, a little put off by his lack of general politeness. “Sure, I don’t see why not. Mi-an and I worked pretty hard yesterday out in the middle of the desert to help you out. We only need to put some finishing touches on now.”

The man looked at me and sighed. “I apologize for my bluntness. It’s only that we are now a day behind schedule thanks to our hiccup yesterday. My boss is a stickler for being on time with our deliveries. This one even more so.”

That caught my attention. “Why this one in particular?” I probed casually, rubbing grease on a bushing.

“Couldn’t say for sure. Said Sandrock was desperate.” He glanced around, his eyes lingering on the dwindling oasis behind us. “I can see you guys are indeed short on water. I feel terribly that we lost it all.”

“We make do.” I said flatly. I didn’t feel like accepting pity from Lucien folk. They may be part of the free cities, but they bordered Duvos, and I did not trust that contentious empire one bit.

I sat up from under the cart and rubbed my hands on my pants. “There. Mi-an?” I called over to where she was working at another cart. “You just about finished so we can get these fine folk on their way?”

I saw her pop up. “Yep! All done. You will make it safely back home with these repairs.” She nodded at the man proudly.

“Wonderful, you two have done a wonderful job. We don’t have a lot in terms of payment, we don’t tend to travel with a lot of money, for this very reason-“ He gestured at the once broken carts “-but take this.” He handed Mi-an and I a small handful of gols each. “I hope your guild will make up the difference.”

I held back a scoff, knowing there was a very slim chance Yan would give us anything at all, except for a tongue lashing for taking up our time helping out-of-towners that didn’t benefit him.

Once Mi-an and I finished packing up and hitching the horses, we stood side by side watching the caravan roll away. The relief was almost physical, like the whole town exhaled at once.

That’s when Pen swaggered up, timing it perfectly, of course.

“Ah, they’ve left without thanking me for all my help. Rude, don’t you think? And to think I offered to teach one of them how to space punch, might’ve saved them from those bandits.” He clicked his tongue, scandalized by their lack of gratitude. “Good people like us are hard to come by, Skinny.”

He clapped a hand on my shoulder, nearly knocking me forward.

“Anyway, duty calls! As Protector of Sandrock, it is my solemn duty to stop those dirty thieves and bandits entering this town.”

I bit back the urge to mention how Logan had destroyed our entire water tower while Pen was on watch. Instead, I just watched him strut off, hips swinging with unnecessary flair.

My satchel weighed heavier on my shoulder than it should have. I patted the flap, feeling the cool glass of the bottle inside - the water Logan had warned me about. If there was even a chance it had been tampered with, I needed answers.

The lab smelled faintly of metal and ozone, a mix of sterilizer and machinery oil. Qi stood at one of his workbenches, peering into a microscope, when I stepped in. He didn’t look up immediately, he never did.

“What is it?” he asked, voice clipped but not unkind.

“I… need you to test something for me.” I pulled the glass bottle from my satchel and set it on the table. “It’s just water… I think.”

Qi raised one brow, finally glancing at me. “Contamination concerns?”

“Something like that.”

He took the bottle, held it up to the light, then made a noncommittal sound in his throat. “Hmph. Slight turbidity… could be nothing. Could be a great deal. Remain there.”

He set up the analyzer—a small, boxy machine that whirred as he prepared the sample, muttering scientific terms under his breath. “Spectroscopic evaluation first… ion chromatography for mineral content… microbial assay next…”

Minutes passed, each beep of the analyzer digging deeper into my nerves. Qi finally turned to the readout. His eyes scanned the results. And then - he stopped.

Too long.

He leaned closer, scrolling through data. The pause stretched, the only sound the low hum of machinery.

“What is it?” I asked.

He didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his tone was flat, clinical. “Nothing alarming. Preliminary results show elevated levels of… ah, unfamiliar compounds. But I cannot determine toxicity without further study.”

A flicker. There, in his eyes. Curiosity and… calculation.

“Where did you say you obtained this?”

I hesitated. “I didn’t. But I believe… it was destined for our towns water storage tank.”

Qi’s lips twitched with intrigue. “Hm. Very well. I’ll run a full chromatographic and isotopic profile overnight. Come back tomorrow for the analysis. And…” His gaze lingered just a beat too long. “Best to stay away from the source of this water. At least until I can determine the risk factor.”

“That won’t be a problem.” I replied. There was quite literally not another drop I could go near. “And Qi?” He half turned back to me and raised an eyebrow. “Best keep this between us for now.

He nodded curtly, excitement evident in his eyes as I turned and walked out of the door.

While collecting commissions after leaving the Research Centre, I had luckily been able to avoid Yan and the earful I know he was dying to give me about fixing those carts. I prayed to the Light that Mi-an hadn’t mentioned to him the few gols we had received from the Lucien traveler, or he would be demanding a cut soon enough.  

The rest of the day felt like walking on a tightrope over an empty canyon, steady enough on the surface, but one wrong thought and I’d drop into a pit of what-ifs. I threw myself into commissions, anything to keep my hands busy - grinding copper ore, calibrating an old furnace, repairing a stubborn water pump for Cooper. Every clank of metal, every spark of the welder, was a distraction - but only just. By evening, my mind kept circling back to the lab, to Qi’s too-long pause, to the unreadable look in his eyes. When the workshop finally fell quiet, I cleaned up more thoroughly than necessary, swept the floor twice, then gave up pretending. Bed was waiting, but sleep? That was a gamble.

I woke the next morning before the sun had even peeked out over the horizon. I busied my hands and mind with coffee, a slice of toast and reading the Tumbleweed Standard. The sun was still low over Sandrock when I arrived at the Research Centre, the desert wind tugging at my sleeves. My stomach churned, part nerves, part exhaustion from tossing and turning all night.

Qi was at the bench when I stepped inside, flicking through his notebook. He didn’t look up immediately, just made a small humming sound of acknowledgment.

“Back so soon?” he said finally, voice even but with an edge that suggested he’d been expecting me. “Good. I have preliminary results. Not the full profile, those will take longer, but enough to tell us we have a problem.”

He flipped a couple of pages and showed me a few hand-drawn charts and tables. I leaned forward, trying to make sense of the numbers and curves.

“The water contains a deliberately added reactive compound,” Qi explained, tone flat but precise. “It interacts with metal and certain organics when exposed to heat over time. If left in the water tank – as you suggested - the effect would worsen gradually, creating illness in anyone who consumes it, and possibly corroding storage infrastructure. Whoever did this engineered it carefully.”

My throat tightened. “So… someone did this on purpose?”

Qi’s eyes flicked to mine, sharp and calculating. “Yes. And it wasn’t random. The chemical profile matches materials that are rare but accessible in the industrial ruins anywhere on the continent. Someone with knowledge and intent. Sandrock is not safe if this contaminated water ends up in our water storage.”

I swallowed hard. “Do we… is there any way to know who?”

Qi hesitated. Just a fraction, but enough to make my pulse quicken. “Not yet. But whoever it is, they understood how to avoid immediate detection. The traces are subtle. Careful inspection will be required—truly careful. Whoever planted this wanted it delivered here and circulated throughout town before anyone suspected a problem.”

I clenched my fists around the strap of my satchel. Logan’s warning came back to me - to only share this with Qi and Trudy. “Was I right to trust you with this? To trust you not to share this information yet?”

Qi’s gaze sharpened. “You were wise. But someone has taken deliberate action here. We must proceed carefully.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

“What’s the meaning of this, Qi? Really, who would want to spread illness through a town like Sandrock?”

The scientist boosted his glasses slightly up the bridge of his nose before shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I do not know. The symptoms an average human would expect to experience from a contamination of this kind, would be ailments such as slows reflexes, weakness or nausea over time, rashes, headaches, even blindness. This could incapacitate an entire town if dispersed widely. It would work slowly too, one person falling ill here, another there… Nobody would even know what was happening until it happened.”

“That’s… terrifying.” I breathed. The reality of the situation had just started to sink in. If this water had arrived in Sandrock and entered our drinking water… it would almost be too late already. “This water was on the intercepted caravan from Lucien, how can we trust any other water that we import from other cities?”

“I had figured as much, unsure why you tried to hide that fact from me. We both know I am smart enough to deduce how you came across this contaminated specimen.” He frowned at me, and I couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of myself. “As for trusting water imported from elsewhere, well to put it simply, we cannot.”

I nodded, knowing that was going to be the answer. “We need to take this to Trudy.”

“Why is it you trust Trudy?”

“Shouldn’t I? I trusted you. I believe Trudy has this towns best interest at heart as much as you do.”

Qi shrugged. “You may be correct. Let us go now then. We need to warn the Mayor to be wary of any other water coming into Sandrock from this moment forward.”

Qi wasted no time heading out the door, and I had to jog to catch up. His white coat flared behind him, every step sharp with urgency. Neither of us spoke as we pushed through the doors of City Hall, the echo of our footsteps filling the high-ceilinged hall.

Trudy sat behind her desk, going through a stack of papers, but she looked up immediately. Her kind face softened, though there was a flicker of surprise at our abrupt arrival.

“Director Qi, Lucia,” she said, voice wavering slightly but still polite, “what’s going on? You look like you’ve just discovered the end of the world.”

“Possibly worse,” Qi replied, lowering his tone but keeping his usual dramatic edge. “Mayor Trudy, we have a matter of great urgency that must be discussed immediately. In private.”

Trudy glanced around the empty hall, frowning. “There’s nobody else here, Director Qi.”

“Yes, but the walls may have ears,” Qi muttered, leaning in.

I raised a brow but didn’t challenge him. This wasn’t the time.

Qi adjusted his glasses, hesitating a fraction before speaking quietly. “The supply shipment from Lucien that was intercepted by bandits yesterday? The builder here took a sample of what remained in the water barrels and wisely bough it to me for testing… Mayor, it wasn’t ordinary water.”

Trudy’s eyebrows rose. “Not ordinary? What do you mean? Was it poisoned?”

“Not exactly,” I said quickly. “But it’s contaminated with something. Something that shouldn’t be in Sandrock’s supply. If… the bandits hadn’t taken it, and it had been allowed to be added to our water supply, people could’ve gotten sick - or worse.”

Her hands stilled over the papers. “You’re certain of this?”

“Positive,” Qi replied, voice low but firm. “I ran multiple tests. The compounds are foreign… engineered, even. This wasn’t an accident.”

Trudy leaned back, the color draining from her face. “And you think… someone meant for it to reach us?”

I nodded. “And we can’t risk another shipment slipping through.”

She swallowed hard, glancing between us. “So, what do we do? Tell the town? Shut down imports?”

“No,” Qi said sharply, then softened his tone. “Not yet. Panic would do more damage than the contamination itself.”

I added, “We propose a quiet plan. Test every shipment, every drop of water, before it enters Sandrock. Discreetly. No one else needs to know, not until we’re sure who’s behind this and how determined they are.” I leaned a hand against the desk. “Ask Justice to increase patrols, especially around Murtle’s Oasis and the water tower. Just in case.”

Trudy hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I don’t like it… but I trust you. Both of you. I’ll back your plan - quietly. But Builder, Qi, if this is bigger than it looks, the town must know. If they find out on their own, they will turn on us.” She looked frightened at the prospect.

Qi and I nodded. “We will keep the town safe, Mayor.” I assured her.

Later, I fall onto my couch, the softness enveloping me delightfully after an intense day. My eyes fall to a framed photograph propped up on the coffee table next to me. My gaze lingers, being sucked into the memory it holds.

Sun, sea spray, sandcastles, laughter. My father with his arm slung around my shoulders, my mother smoothing a fly-away piece of blonde hair from my young face before entwining her fingers with my own. We smile for the camera.

A sharp knock at the door jolts me back. I swipe away a tear, give my cheek a light slap telling myself to pull it together, and yank the door open.

“Lucia, is this a bad time?” Justice stands there, a faint smile softening his otherwise sharp gaze. Behind him, the sun is melting into the horizon, painting the sky in muted golds as townsfolk wander toward the saloon for the evening.

“No, come on in.” My voice is calm, but my eyes flick briefly over his shoulder, scanning the street out of habit before I close the door. “What’s going on?”

Justice steps inside, his eyes flicking - too quickly to be casual - over the takeaway containers littering the dining table and the stack of dirty mugs in the sink. He settles into an armchair with the easy grace of someone who knows how to read a room.

“Trudy just announced increased patrols around the Oasis and the water tower,” he says, watching me closely. “Saw you and Qi rushing into City Hall this morning looking… intense. Thought you might have had a hand in that.”

Normally, I liked Justice. A lot. But his ability to sniff out half-truths was starting to grate on me.

I lean back, arms crossed casually - not too defensive, not too open. “Qi’s been working on a prototype for a new robot. He wanted my help building it. I told him we’d need the mayor’s approval before we used any town resources.”

Justice raises an eyebrow. “A new robot.”

“Mm-hm. Trudy said no. As usual, unless it’s critical to Sandrock.” I force a light laugh. “With Qi, his inventions are very rarely critical to the town.”

Justice studies me for a moment longer than I’d like, then leans back, hands resting loosely on his knees. “Strange. You’re both acting like you’re sitting on a secret.”

I hold his gaze just long enough to make him question his own read. “Maybe we are. But if Qi and I are conspiring to build a cleaning bot, I promise it’s not going to rock the foundations of Sandrock.”

That gets a reluctant grin from him, though the suspicion doesn’t fully leave his eyes.

I continue, wanting to get him out of my house. “I would offer you something but…” I glance around at the mess of the kitchen and dining room table, “I think you can tell that I don’t have a lot of anything in the way of food or drink at the moment. The saloon might be a better option for both of us honestly.” I smiled at him, willing it to reflect in my eyes.

Justice followed my gaze around the room, slower this time. “Something keeping you preoccupied lately, Lu?”

“No more than usual, Jus.” I narrowed my eyes at the side of his head as he continued to note everything in my house. “Only got the whole town coming to me with commissions and caravan disasters.”

The mention of the caravan made him flick his gaze back to me. “Anything of interest to note about that? Myself and Unsuur have been investigating that incident, trying to track down the bandits that did it. We got nothin’ so far. We can’t seem to figure out motive. They took the water but didn’t rob the travellers of their gols or other valuables.”

I shrugged. “Mi-an and I were too busy trying to get them back up and running to do a full survey of the situation unfortunately. But we didn’t notice anything glaring.”

I stood before Justice could continue. “I might pop round the saloon for a meal. I’m starving.” My tone was lighter than I felt, but I needed to move before his questions dug any deeper.

Justice let out a slow sigh and rose to follow me. We stepped outside into the cooling evening, the scent of dust and cooking meat from the saloon mixed in the air, oddly comforting.

We walked in silence across the train tracks, our boots crunching on gravel. I glanced sideways at him, but his expression was unreadable.

“You coming in?” I asked as we reached Owen’s bar, tilting my head toward the warm glow spilling from the windows.

“Not tonight,” he said, shaking his head. “Got some paperwork I’ve got to finish up.” He turned to leave, but I wasn’t ready to let him go.

“Justice?” I called, making him pause mid-step. He turned back, one eyebrow raised.

I drew a breath, forcing steel into my voice. “I’m going to need you to stop suspecting me of being up to no good. You, the mayor - this entire town- have trusted me with everything. Building equipment. Repairing the water tower. Fixing homes. Risking my life to fight off the geeglers and other monsters and machines. I’ve bled and fought for this place. I’ve been here for the good, the bad, and the downright terrifying, and not just as a builder, but as your friend.”

My voice softened, but my eyes didn’t waver. “So, I’m asking for a little faith. That I’m not out to hurt this town in any capacity. Ever.”

Justice regarded me carefully, like a man weighing a weapon in his hand. His jaw worked for a moment before he replied. “Just doing my job, Lucia. You are my friend, and you’ve saved this town’s hide more than once. But Sandrock…” He hesitated, looking past me toward the fading horizon. “…Sandrock is my top priority.”

The words stung more than I’d expected. Not because they weren’t true, but because I wasn’t sure where that left me.

I forced a tight smile. “Fair enough. I guess we’re both doing our jobs.”

Justice gave a slow nod, his eyes lingering on me a second longer than necessary, then turned and walked away into the dusk.

I watched him go, the sound of his footsteps fading into the night, leaving me with the weight of secrets and the uneasy feeling that he might be the one person sharp enough to uncover them.

I ate at a table alone in the saloon, tucked away in a corner. I watched the townsfolk mingle and chatter to each other, a bud of jealousy blooming in my stomach. They truly belonged here, they loved each other. For a while, I was starting to think that I belonged here too, that I could become part of it… until the suspicion started. Why me? Was it because I was an outsider? Because I wasn’t a push over? Were my words just sharp enough to keep people at an arm’s length, making them quick to point fingers at me if something felt off?

I shoved my half-eaten plate away from me, wiping my mouth with a napkin and standing.

I hadn’t belonged anywhere in quite some time; it wasn’t a new feeling. But, for some reason, it stung the most here in Sandrock.

I pushed my way out the door and started the short, brisk walk back to my yard. I stared at the ground, my hands in my pockets as I felt sorry for myself.  I wasn’t always great at making friends, but I thought my luck had been turning in this town.

I reached my front door, turned the knob, and pushed it open - only to nearly shriek at the figure lounging on my couch. My hand flew to the dagger on my belt, yanking it free, the blade catching the low lamplight as I raised it over my head, poised to throw.

Logan’s eyes went wide before he dove onto the floor.
“It’s me!” he barked, hands over his head. “Fucking hell, it’s me!”

Heart hammering, I stood frozen in the doorway, dagger raised, struggling to catch my breath. Logan peered up from behind my coffee table, cautious as a fox, his hands still lifted in mock surrender.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” I hissed, voice sharp enough to cut. “You broke in?”

“Shh!” Logan snapped, glancing at the door. “Keep your voice down or you’ll have half the town swarming us.”

I snorted. “Not likely” I muttered to myself, shoving the door shut and sliding the lock home with a sharp click. A quick glance through the curtain covering the window confirmed no one had seen me threaten Sandrock’s most wanted man with a dagger.

When I turned back, Logan was already sprawled in my armchair again like he owned it, boots kicked up on the table.

“Unbelievable,” I muttered, stalking toward him. “A wanted criminal makes himself comfortable in my house, in my favorite armchair no less, and I’m supposed to… what? Offer you tea?”

Beneath the bandanna, I could feel his grin. “Wouldn’t say no to a warm welcome.” He flung his arm in the direction of my unclean dining table and kitchen. “Least you could do after allowing me to sit here in this mess while waitin' for ya.”

My spun the dagger in my hand menacingly. “Start talking, Logan. Why are you here?”

He leaned forward, eyes gleaming in the dim light, sharp, calculating, but carrying that reckless spark that made my stomach tighten.
“Have you got back the water results?” he asked softly. “And I hear Justice is sniffin' around you. I figured we should talk… before someone decides you’re in bed with the wrong people.”

I folded my arms. “Meaning you?”

He eyes gleamed brighter - cocky, unrepentant. “Oh, darlin’, you don’t want me to answer that.”

I glared at him. “Justice is suspicious of everyone.” I said, trying to keep my tone light, though my jaw tightened. “The Civil Corps is doubling patrols. Around the oasis. Around the water tower. Everywhere.”

Logan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “That’s gonna make it a hell of a lot harder for me to move around. And a hell of a lot more dangerous for you to be seen talkin' to me.”

“I noticed,” I said, a little sharper than intended. “You realize it’s never my intent to talk to you, right? You just always fucking show up. You’re going to get me in trouble.”

For a moment, we just stared at each other, heat flickering like the tension in the room wasn’t only about contaminated water. Logan’s gaze dropped briefly to the dagger in my hand, then back up to my face, lingering.

“You planning on stabbin' me,” he said quietly, “or can we start talking like two people who maybe… trust each other?”

I exhaled, setting the dagger down on the table between us. Not a truce, just a temporary ceasefire. “Talk. Before I change my mind.”

Logan’s gaze never left mine, unflinching, teasing, dangerous. “Good,” he murmured, leaning back slightly. “Now, 'bout that water…”

“Qi tested it. It’s not lethal… but it’s contaminated enough to make people real sick if it ever reached the town supply.”

Logan’s eyes darkened. “Figures. And you’re the only one who knows?”

“Qi knows, Trudy knows. Justice? …Not yet.”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “And you’re just gonna quietly run patrols and keep testin' shipments. Typical builder logic.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, so close I could see the faint lines of dust on his cape that was getting all over my armchair.

“I’d rather the town didn’t know. Keep panic low,” I said firmly, though I caught myself sneaking a glance at the way his eyes followed my movements, sharp and calculating.

“Ya don’t trust me,” he said softly, the words brushing against the air like a warning, and maybe a challenge.

I stiffened. “I don’t trust anyone with this. Including you.”

He smirked, slow, teasing, leaning in across the coffee table. “Funny… I don’t think I was expectin' you to. But I’d bet you like the idea I’m here.”

I flushed, trying to maintain composure. “Don’t push it.”

Logan’s grin widened under the bandanna. “Just testin' the waters. Speaking of which…” He nodded in the general direction of the oasis. “I’ll help with the patrols. But you let me handle it my way. Deal?”

I paused, weighing the risk. Letting him close could be dangerous. But I needed someone who could move fast, think faster, and get results… even if that someone was infuriating… infuriatingly magnetic.

“Fine,” I said finally. “But stay out of sight… and stay out of my house uninvited, Logan. My dagger. One slip…”

“Deal,” he said, holding his hands up, mock surrender, eyes flicking to mine with that same smoldering challenge. “Now, about that cup of tea?” He put his feet up on my coffee table again, taking his hat off and swinging it around his finger. “No sugar for me thanks, I’m sweet enough.”

I slapped his feet off my table, causing the photo of me and my parents to rock dangerously as the table shuddered. Of course, the movement caught Logan’s eye.
“Who’s this?” He scooped up the frame and studied it with those cool blue eyes. “Aw, a young builder at the beach.” He cooed.

My hand shot out, snatching the frame before he could linger. “That’s none of your business,” I hissed, quickly sliding it into the cupboard under my sink. My pulse beat faster than it should.

Logan tilted his head, clearly amused, but also intrigued by my reaction. “Ah, I see… secrets,” he murmured. “Don’t worry, I don’t pry without permission… usually.”

I bristled, crossing my arms. “You can’t break into my house and just-“

He leaned forward suddenly, the movement almost magnetic, his gaze locking on mine. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anythin'… but it’s obvious there’s more to you than sand, sweat, and spanners. I like that.”

I wanted to glare, to push him back, to remind him of every reason I should not trust a man like him, but the words caught in my throat. He leaned even closer, a faint warmth brushing through the fabric of his coat, and I could feel the tension in the air prickling my skin.

I studied him, it seemed he wanted to protect this town, just like I did. He was one of the only people I had talked to in the last 7 days that hadn’t directly or indirectly shown suspicion of who I talked to, where I went, and what I did.

“Alright,” I said finally, voice tight but steady, “if you’re done pawing through my life, maybe we can have that tea. With extra sugar, was it?” I smirked at him.

Logan’s eyes softened just enough to show he was taking me seriously. “As long as you let me help, not sure I can trust ya not to poison my brew. But I have to say… you’re very convincing when you’re mad at me.”

I shot him a look, half-exasperated, half-amused. “It’s cute you think I am pretending to be mad at you.”

“You think I’m cute, Builder?” He mocked.

I turned to face him as the kettle filled in the sink. “My name is Lucia. Use it.”

His eyes shone as if he had just won something. “If you say so, Lucia.”

I set to work finding clean cups, which was a chore in itself, and made the tea. I could feel Logan’s eyes on me, but I paid him no mind until I was done.

“Here.” I shoved a steaming mug at him and directed him to sit back down on the couches. “Now, tell me,” I sat on the couch opposite him and stared him directly in the eyes. “And I want the truth." I leaned forward and narrowed my eyes. "Who's your contact in town, and why did you set that trap to steal the water?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Logan leaned back, mug in hand, and looked at me. He surveyed me for what felt like eternity. I tried my best not to shift under his gaze.

“I stole the water, yeah. But not to hoard it. Somethin’ didn’t feel right. Since when do we get shipments of water from Lucien? A city brushing the edge of Duvos, where half their politics is shady as hell? That water had to pass through Atara before it even got here – the town we usually source our water from, if it’s not Portia - so why skip Atara altogether? Why now? I wasn’t about t’ let half the town drink poison before I knew what was wrong.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You expect me to believe you risked your neck, robbed the whole town of drinking water… just because your gut told you to?”

His eyes glimmered. “Not just my gut. You know I have a contact, someone on the inside. Someone who heard whispers of a problem but couldn’t confirm it. They came to me ‘cause I’m the only one reckless enough to act before anyone else got hurt.”

That got my attention. “Someone in Sandrock? Who?”

He shrugged, infuriatingly casual. “Can’t say. Wouldn’t be much of a contact if I went blabbin’ their name, would it?”

I leaned forward, feeling the mug’s warmth still in my hands. “You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and go mysterious on me, Logan. I need a name.”

His eyes gleamed, all challenge again. “You’ll have to settle for trust. At least until I know more.”

Trust. The word burned like a fresh wound. I leaned back, trying to look unaffected. “Who was it saying a week ago that trust gets you killed?”

His head quirked, something sharp entering his gaze. “And who was it that snapped at me and told me I wasn’t the only one who’s lost someone? That my pain ain’t special?”

My heart lurched. The guilt I’d been shoving down since that day rose up sharp, gnawing at my insides. I’d crossed a line then, and we both knew it. The air between us turned heavy, like the desert before a storm. Logan didn’t look away, but something in his gaze softened, not much, just enough to catch me off guard.

“I didn’t mean it,” I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Didn’t mean what?”

“What I said about… your pain not being special.” My throat tightened. “It was cruel. And I knew it when I said it.”

For a second, he just stared at me, like he was trying to decide if this was some sort of trap. Then he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice low but steady.

“You weren’t wrong. It’s not special. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like hell.”

Something about the way he said it, quiet, almost matter-of-fact, hit harder than anger would have. My fingers curled around my mug like it was the only thing keeping me grounded.

“You understand though, don’t you, Lucia?” he said gently. His voice was softer now, like he was peeling back a layer he didn’t let anyone see. “Them people in that photo you snatched away from me before. Which was it that you lost?”

My stomach twisted. The image of my mother’s sunburnt cheeks, my father’s hand on my shoulder, and the way the ocean had glittered like the sun would always be there shining on us... It all rose up so fast I could barely breathe.

“Technically both.” I choked a sad laugh. “My mother,” I whispered, surprised at how hoarse I sounded, “she died. And my father… missing. No body. No grave. Just gone.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a long beat. He just sat there, staring like he could see all the pieces I’d tried to glue together inside me and knew they’d never quite fit.

“That’s the worst kind, ain’t it?” he said finally. “The kind where you don’t know if they’re gone or out there somewhere, waiting. Breaks you to pieces either way.”

My throat closed. I wanted to be angry at him for bringing it up. I wanted to tell him he didn’t get to speak about my father like that, that its none of his business. But instead, I found myself whispering, “Yeah. It does.”

And for a moment, just one, we weren’t enemies. We were two people sitting in the dark, holding ghosts.

“I am sorry you lost your pa. People around town talk about him still, he sounded like a pretty amazing guy.” I said softly.

Logan swirled his tea around the mug, watching it more carefully that he probably needed to. “Yeah, he was.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, drinking our tea, each of us lost in the fragile places we didn’t usually let anyone see. The steam curled between us, soft and ghostlike, carrying scents that should have felt warm but instead stirred something hollow.

I thought about my mother’s laugh, the kind that filled a room and made everything feel lighter, and how it had faded to nothing beneath her grave. I thought about my father’s hand squeezing mine tightly before he disappeared, leaving me with only questions and grief.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Logan staring at his cup like it might hold answers. There was a heaviness about him, not just grief but a kind of guilt that had sunk deep and stayed there, stubborn as bone.

For once, neither of us needed to speak. We didn’t need sharp words or barbed humor to hide behind. Just the quiet, the shared ache, and the faint clink of mugs against the table like some strange, small truce.

I set my mug down on the table between us and fiddled with the hem of my sleeve. “I’ve not shared that with anyone in Sandrock.” I murmured, breaking the silence.

Logan looked at me with surprise. “You’ve been here over a year.”

I nodded, I knew holding something like this so close to my chest, despite having friends… or people I though were friends, was odd. “I can’t stand the pity in people’s eyes. This is why I left Highwind. So, you were right, back in the cave, when you said I was looking for a change of scenery. I really was. I wanted a fresh start.”

I watched him with startled eyes as he rose to his feet, sidestepped the coffee table, and lowered himself onto the couch beside me, so close our thighs brushed. The contact sent a warm ripple through me.

Then his hand covered mine, halting the nervous damage I’d been inflicting on the threads of my sleeve. His touch was soft, deliberate, the kind that makes your heart feel too big for your chest.

And just when I thought he was about to say something heartfelt -

“I am always right,” he breathed. His bandana shifted as the corner of his mouth twitched, hinting at a smile.

I blinked at the sudden, but welcome, shift in tone. “Ass!” The word slipped out on a half-laugh, and I gave him a quick smack across the chest. But before I could pull my hand away, he caught it, fingers curling around mine like he’d been waiting for an excuse.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The room felt smaller, quieter, like everything outside it had gone still. His thumb brushed across my knuckles, barely there, but enough to send my pulse racing.

“You hit soft,” he murmured, voice low, teasing, but edged with something that wasn’t entirely a joke.

“Maybe I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” I said, my voice betraying more than I wanted.

His gaze flicked to mine, sharp and searching. “Maybe you were tryin’ to do something else.”

Logan’s eyes burned with the same intensity I know he could see in mine, and for a heartbeat, I thought we might actually close the distance. My breath caught. His hand lingered, warm and insistent, but not advancing, like he was testing me, daring me to make the first move.

“I shouldn’t-” I started, voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of his focus made me falter. My eyes flicked down to where his lips would be. “Promise me one day you’ll let me see under that damned bandanna.”

“I think you’re probably the only person in this town I would break my rule for.” His voice was low, weighted with a kind of quiet promise I wasn’t sure I could trust - but didn’t want to ignore.

I held his gaze, and for a moment, the rest of the world slipped away. The heat in the room, the faint scent of leather and dust on him, the way his eyes caught the lamplight… it all crackled between us like static electricity.

Then, almost as if we had rehearsed it, we both laughed, sharp and breathless, and shifted away from each other. The sound was a release, but it didn’t ease the tension.

I stood abruptly, clearing my throat, and grabbed our mugs from the coffee table. Moving toward the sink, I felt the weight of his gaze on my back.

“Don’t you know we’re meant to be enemies?” I called over my shoulder, sarcasm cutting through the lingering heat in the air. “I decided in that cave that I hated you. It was the mantra I chanted to keep myself sane while stuck with you.”

“Now, we both know that’s all lies and slander, darlin’.” He chuckled, shifting on the couch so he could watch me, his expression teasing yet dangerous. “You’re as fiery as I remember. Reckon I like that about you more than I should.”

I didn’t answer, I just set the mugs down with a little more force than necessary, turning to force a quick glare at him. His mischievous eyes gleamed brighter as I turned back to busy myself at the sink.

“You know,” he said softly, leaning forward slightly, “you could’ve stayed mad at me. I would’ve liked that too. But instead, you’re pacing and glarin’ at me… almost like you enjoy this chaos as much as I do.”

I whipped around, eyes flashing, “I do not enjoy chaos.” My voice wavered, though, and I immediately regretted it. He noticed, of course.

“Sure, Lucia,” he said smoothly, the way he said my name made my knees go weak, though I forced myself to stand tall. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

He straightened his jacket, the movement casual, but deliberate, like he was savoring the last few seconds before leaving. “I’ve stayed far longer than I intended.”

I glanced at the clock, forcing a teasing edge into my voice. “Run along now, little bandit. You always know how to make a dramatic exit.”

But my bravado faltered as he moved. One long, fluid stride brought him within inches of me, close enough that I could feel the faint heat radiating from him. His eyes flicked between mine, the teasing spark undeniable, making it impossible to look away.

Then, with a light, playful punch to my arm, he said, “See you ‘round the Oasis, Builder.”

Before I could respond or even process the thrum of my racing heart. he was gone. The doorway framed his retreating figure, and then he vanished into the darkness outside, leaving a faint trace of dust, leather, and mischief behind.

I lay in bed a little longer than I should have, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint stirrings of Sandrock waking outside. My mind kept replaying Justice’s visit, my lonely meal at the Saloon, Logan’s brazen intrusion, it had all unfolded in just a few hours, and yet it felt like a lifetime. Somehow, it was all real. I shoved it aside. There was no time to indulge in whatever complicated feelings I had about yesterday.

I swung my legs out of bed, letting the cool morning floor shock me fully awake. I quickly washed up, tugged my work clothes on, grabbed my satchel, and headed out the door. I didn’t even need coffee this morning, my brain was going full throttle already.

My feet carried me toward the Commerce Guild to collect commissions without even having to think about it, the morning air already heating my skin as the sun rose over Sandrock. I paused as I saw minister Matilda speaking quietly with Pen by the shockingly low Oasis to my left. They hadn’t seen me yet.

I ducked and made a mad dash to hide behind a tree a little closer to where they stood.

“-will be here soon,” the minister said, voice low, almost conspiratorial. “We need this water, the Oasis is soon to run dry.”

Pen’s lips pressed into a thin line, eyes darting toward the horizon where the train carrying a load of water would eventually appear. “And you’re sure the Civil Corps -”

“You understand your part, yes?”

“I do,” Pen said, voice quieter now, almost swallowed by the breeze. “I’ll handle it. Like you said.”

Matilda’s eyes softened fractionally. “Good. Sandrock is counting on us… whether they know it or not.”

I blinked, heart thudding, unsure if I’d misheard, but a chill crept down my spine. Their words didn’t sound threatening exactly, I caught the end of the conversation, but the undertone…

I ducked lower behind the tree, trying to steady my breathing. Sandrock was low on water, the Church was shipping in more, and suddenly every barrel, every drop, felt like a loaded question waiting for an answer I didn’t have.

Qi had been clear: every drop had to be tested before it reached Sandrock’s supply. But just hearing that a shipment was arriving before we had a chance to test it, made panic prickle at my chest. If I let the shipment through untested… if anyone got sick… I didn’t even want to imagine it.

I allowed myself to think for a few minutes, I had a clean bottle in my satchel, was it worth it to stay here as to not potentially miss the arrival of the water? We could not afford to not be here and let the Church top up our supply with tainted water. I couldn’t even risk dashing off to get Qi.

No sooner had I made the decision to linger, a train whistle shrieked its arrival. I ducked lower amongst the shrubs, keeping to the shadows, scanning for anyone who might recognize me -especially Justice. The train rattled loudly into the station, coming to a slow stop, the doors slid open to the passenger carriages and the storage carriages alike.

A wagging tongue of wind carried voices to me. “First load’s coming off the train now!” Pen called down to Burgess and Miguel who had appeared on the other side of the Oasis. “Make sure it’s logged and stored securely before we move the rest!”

I swallowed hard. There was no time for careful diplomacy. I had to reach the shipment long enough to pull a sample without causing suspicion. My hands flexed at my sides, remembering the dagger Logan had narrowly escaped last night. Not for him today, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be ready.

Then, from behind the train, I caught a glimpse of him - Logan. Bandanna in place, leaning casually against a boulder, watching. His eyes met mine for a fraction of a second before flicking back to the train.

My pulse spiked. I had to keep him from interfering, and more importantly, I had to keep him hidden. If Justice saw him now, if anyone did…

I exhaled, forcing myself to focus. One step at a time.

I glanced back up to where I had seen Logan, but he had disappeared. My eyes flicked rapidly over the horizon, not seeing any trace of him. I prayed to the Light he wouldn’t interfere. I sighed, my body feeling weighted down with the heaviness of this burden. I peered around, watching for any eyes on me. When I saw none, I straightened and stepped out of my hiding spot inconspicuously and began walking, like I just happened to be passing.

I rounded the Oasis and plastered a smile onto my face when I came across Burgess. “Oh Burgess!” I said brightly. “Good Morning! Shipment of water? Good, we are running so low.”

Burgess grinned back at me, overjoyed at my interest. “Wonderful isn’t it? The minister organized it for the town. It’s being stored at Water World until we get leave from City Hall to circulate it. We want to get it just right, especially after the disaster with the last lot getting stolen.” The man looked distraught at the mere memory. Miguel, who was flicking through paperwork behind him, side-eyed Burgess and I with boredom, his long hair half covering his drawn face. 

“It’s alright, Burgess, Sandrock has made it through worse.” I encouraged. He looked up at me with glazed eyes and nodded. “I’ve got to be getting to the Commerce Guild now, but you keep your eyes on that water, you hear? I know the town can trust you.”

My words seemed to perk him up. He stood straighter and had a glint of determination in his eyes. “I’ve got it covered!” He confirmed.

We nodded at each other in a professional manner and went our separate ways. He was a sweet, well-meaning man, but Burgess could be a little overly passionate about water.

Couldn’t blame him though, considering we were trying to survive in the middle of the desert.

After I had snatched a few easy commissions off the board, thankfully avoiding Yan, his tiny feet and moustache, I bolted for the Research Centre. I burst through the door, nearly making Qi drop the beaker he was holding.

“Qi! …water …train …need to … test.” I panted, pointing in the general direction of the oasis.

“A fresh shipment of water?” He goggled at me, somehow understanding my broken speak perfectly. “When will it be added to the supply?”

“Burgess said… tomorrow.” I finally caught my breath to form full sentences. “The Church got it delivered. Burgess said its being kept in his shop until tomorrow. They are going through Trudy first. Do you think she will try to delay it so we can test it? She is going to freak out.” I paced with worry. Trudy was strong, but was not always great under pressure.

Qi looked at his notebook, almost as if he hadn’t heard me.

“Qi!’ I snapped. “If we sit on our hands, the entire town could be drinking poison by morning. I’m not willing to risk that. It’s you, me and Trudy.” I omitted Logan’s involvement. “If we don’t act, we could be dooming the whole town. It’s up to us!”

He looked up, making unwilling eye contact with me. “What exactly are you proposing, Lucia? Because I suspect it’s something… actionable,”

“We break into Water World tonight. We take a sample, you run your tests before the Church distributes a drop. No paper trail. No witnesses.”

“Hmm. Risky. Highly inadvisable. Reckless, even.” The logical tone of his voice never seemed to slip. “Fortunately, I anticipated something of this nature. I’ve already designed a portable toxigenic assay kit, calibrated to detect the same hemotoxic compounds found in the previous contaminated barrels. Results in under six minutes.” He walked to his workbench, pointing it out to me. “Now, the Civil Corps will be guarding the storage. Pen, most likely. He is about as subtle as a rockslide, but equally immovable.”

I gaped at the scientist before me, I had never seen this rebellious side to him. But I supposed, when it came to this town despite his often lack of interest in its citizens, he would move mountains to protect it. It was his home too.

Qi gestured to the dagger at my side. “You keep watch, handle the watchman if needed. I’ll collect the sample and perform the analysis on-site. If it’s clean, we vanish like ghosts. If not…”

“…then we decide who we can trust with the truth.”

He nodded. “We need to warn Trudy.”

It felt like déjà vu, me jogging after Qi as he walked determinedly toward City Hall, his coat flapping behind him in the warm desert air. The doors clanked open loudly as we entered City Hall, finding it mercifully empty, and Qi told the mayor exactly what was going to happen.

I had to hand it to Trudy, she managed to school her expression a lot better this time, but I could still see the terror for her town in her eyes. “Do what you must.” Is all she said. The less she knew as mayor, the better.

Night draped Sandrock in a deep indigo, broken only by the silver wash of moonlight and the dull glow of lanterns fixed to the main street. I pressed my back to the cool stone wall outside Water World, heart thudding louder than it should. Across from me, Qi adjusted the strap of his satchel, his eyes darting between the lock on the door and the shadow of Pen pacing at the end of the street.

“Six minutes,” Qi whispered, his voice barely audible. “Once I begin, that’s all the time I need for the reagent to react. Any longer and the presence of foreign compounds may degrade the sample.”

I nodded, trying not to grin despite the danger. Only Qi would talk like that while we were about to commit a full-on break-in.

I crouched low, pulling a thin metal pick from my boot. “Then let’s make this quick. Keep watch while I handle the lock.”

The door to Water World was simple but solid, the metal lock gleaming faintly in the dark. I slid the pick into place, feeling for the pins the way an old locksmith had once taught me back in Highwind. Each subtle click echoed loudly, until the final one released with a sharp, satisfying snap. The bolt thudded across, granting us access.

“Done,” I mouthed, glancing back.

Qi was already stepping forward, slipping inside with me and closing the door softly behind them. The shop smelled of iron and damp wood and stacked against the wall were a bunch of large, sealed casks. The Church’s shipment.

Qi moved to them immediately, crouching like a predator over prey. “Stay by the door,” he murmured. “If Pen hears anything unusual, we’ll need a plausible distraction.”

I locked the door again behind us and peered through the slats of the doorframe, keeping an eye on the patrol outside. I had no idea what I would be able to do to distract Pen if he somehow came in here, but it was better me being in here, than drawing suspicion by lingering outside. If I had to fight, I would, I fingered the cold metal of the dagger at my hip, as if to reassure myself.

Qi unpacked a small testing kit. He worked fast, hands precise and unshaking. A thin needle pierced the first barrel, drawing a sample into a small glass vial. He repeated the process with every barrel before pouring a clear reagent into each.

The liquid inside turned a faint opalescent blue, then slowly began to settle toward transparency.

I risked a glance back. “How’s it looking?”

Qi didn’t answer immediately. He pulled a small hourglass from his satchel and set it down carefully on the floor. “Six minutes,” he said again. “If contamination exists, the solution will darken.”

The grains of sand began to fall.

Outside, Pen’s footsteps shifted closer - heavy, deliberate, too close. His shadow passed across the narrow window, stretching long and distorted by the moonlight. I clenched my teeth and flattened my front against the door so I couldn’t be seen from the window.

Pen paused.

I saw his head turn to scan the shadows across the opposite side of the street.

He paused again, his head turning back this way. He looked at the door. My heart seemed to still and the air left my lungs. I felt like he was staring at me directly through the slats from where I spied on him. I felt Qi go rigid behind me, hidden in the shadows of the barrels.

Pen stepped forward. His silhouette blocked out the moonlight completely.

His hand lifted toward the door.

Closer. Closer.

Then, metal scraped as his fingers curled around the knob.

And turned.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

A sharp rattle echoed through the shop, loud enough to set my teeth on edge, but the doorknob didn’t budge. I silently thanked myself for having the foresight to lock it behind us.

Pen tried again, harder this time, twisting the metal with a jerk. I swallowed the sound clawing up my throat and pressed harder into the wood, praying he couldn’t hear my racing pulse.

Qi didn’t move. His breath was so shallow behind me I wasn’t sure he was breathing at all. The soft hiss of sand sliding through the hourglass felt deafening.

Pen exhaled sharply. A low mutter, too quiet to catch, slipped through the door. Then silence.

Every muscle in my body screamed to run.

His hand lingered on the knob, a weight pressing against the thin barrier between us, before he stepped back. The boards outside creaked under his boots - once, twice, then stilled.

The silence stretched, unnatural.

Then, a sharp clang rang out from somewhere down the street. A trash barrel overturning, scattering bottles across the cobblestones.

Burgess will have a coronary seeing that mess in the morning.

Pen spun away from the door, boots thudding as he strode toward the noise.

I risked a glance through the narrow slats. No one there, but the faintest shadow slipped across the street opposite, a shape gone before my eyes could focus. Logan.

My throat loosened enough to whisper, “How much longer?”

Qi held up the hourglass, the pale sand now halfway through. “Three minutes.”

Three minutes of holding our breath. Three minutes for Pen to come back. Three minutes until the truth - whatever it was - stared us in the face.

Why was Pen even trying to get in here? Did he suspect something? Did he hear something? He was only meant to be patrolling… or was he coming in here to do something to the water?

And Logan, he shouldn’t be slinking around town in the dead of night, he will get himself caught. But then again… what would have happened if he didn’t cause that distraction just now?

I tapped my fingernails against the floor impatiently, sparing another anxious glance out through the gaps in the wooden door.

I turned back to Qi, barely daring to breathe. “How much longer now?”

Qi didn’t look up. “Approximately two minutes.”

The liquid in the vials remained maddeningly clear.

My stomach twisted. It wasn’t supposed to stay clear. It was supposed to turn dark, proof of contamination, proof they weren’t paranoid.

The minutes crawled at a snails pace. And finally, the last grain of sand fell.

Qi stared, unblinking. “It’s… clean. Perfectly clean.”

I nearly choked, “You’re joking!”

“Lucia. You’ve known me long enough to realize I rarely joke about matters concerning public health and toxicology.”

I stood and squinted at the vials myself, as if unbelieving of what the smartest man I had ever met had just said, like he was lying, like he was wrong.

He wasn’t.

I jolted as I heard foot falls outside again coming closer. “Shit. Qi, quickly, get packed up, we have to go.” I whispered hurriedly, and Qi moved fast, throwing his equipment haphazardly into his satchel.

Two thuds came from the side of the building, Qi and I both jumped, sweat prickled at my neck. “Ya’ll have ‘bout 2 minutes to get your asses up out of there before he comes back.” We heard a deep hiss from outside.

Qi froze mid-movement, fingers hovering over the hourglass. “Who was that?” He demanded, his face showing clear panic in the dull light of the moon through the windows. “Who knows we’re here?”

“I… uh, I don’t know.” I lied. “Now, go,” I whispered, already moving toward the door. “I’ll check if the coast is clear.”

I could tell Qi wanted to ask questions, but he didn’t argue, just worked faster, sweeping his kit into his satchel. I cracked the door open a sliver and peered into the street. Empty. For now.

Qi was beside me in seconds, breathing hard but silent.

“You know,” I murmured as I watched the street outside, barely audible, “I still don’t believe it. That water should’ve been poison, right? Am I crazy?”

“You’re not crazy, Lucia. Crazy isn’t a medical diagnosis - it’s a lazy insult people use when they can’t explain someone else’s logic. And right now, your logic is sound.” He whispered back, voice tight. “But the readings are real. Which means -”

“- something weird is going on,” I finished for him.

A faint scuff of boots reached us from the far side of the street. Pen.

“Move.” I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow, “Now!” I hissed.

Qi slipped out first, keeping low and hugging the shadows, while I lingered by the door a second longer, watching for the opening. Logan’s warning echoed in my head, two minutes, and we’d already burned through most of it.

“Hurry up,” Qi mouthed from the corner of a building a few feet away.

I darted out, boots silent on the dirt, pulling the door closed without a sound. My heart pounded hard enough to feel it in my throat as I followed the line of shadow toward Qi.

Then - “Skinny?”

I froze.

Pen stood at the far end of the alley, shoulders broad, posture loose, like a man who had already decided he owned the space. And me. His gaze ran over me, sharp first… then lazy, like a predator pretending to be bored.

“You’re out late,” he said, voice low, with an edge I couldn’t place. Accusation? Amusement? Both?

My mind raced. Had he seen Qi? Seen me closing the Water World door? Anything?

“I couldn’t sleep,” I replied, injecting a casual shrug I didn’t feel. “Thought I’d walk off the restlessness.”

Pen tilted his head, studying me in a way that made my skin prickle. For a moment, I thought he might call me out, demand to know what I’d been doing near Water World.

Then, just as suddenly, his expression shifted. The sharpness melted into a grin that was all teeth and swagger.

“Dangerous hour for a stroll, Lucia.” he drawled, stepping closer, slow and deliberate. “But I suppose if anyone can handle it, it’s you. And me.”

The way he said my name made the hairs on my arms stand up, and not in a good way. I let out a breath I didn’t dare let him hear and forced a faint smile. “I manage.”

His eyes lingered on me, a spark of something sly there. “You always do.”

Pen’s gaze dragged over me like he was trying to peel back layers I wasn’t even wearing. I kept my stance loose, shoulders soft, even as my pulse banged in my throat like a warning bell.

He leaned a little closer, voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial. “You know, most people around here… they stumble when the ground shifts under their feet. But you…” His grin sharpened. “You always land on your feet. Makes me wonder what else you’re good at.”

There it was, the shift from suspicion to arrogance, from hunter to performer. He wanted me flustered, caught off guard.

I tilted my head just enough to meet his gaze without flinching. “You’ll have to wonder a little longer.”

Pen chuckled low, like I’d just fed him his favourite line. “Fair enough. But I’ll find out, Lucia. One way or another.”

And with that, he stepped back, gave a little bow of mock chivalry, and sauntered off into the night, leaving me standing there with my heart still racing. It wasn’t that I had never found Pen attractive. The thing was, I had. More than once. And on more than one lonely evening at the Saloon, I had thought about it… But the arrogance, the attitude, it was too much to look past, even when I was having a really bad day.

“Lucia.” A quite hiss from Qi pulled me back from my adrenaline high. “Let’s get out of here!”

I obeyed immediately, I wasn’t hanging around for any more of Pen’s… flirting.

We kept a quick pace up, sticking to the shadows as we headed for my house, it was closer than Qi’s and I didn’t fancy sneaking through town and happening upon Pen again.

I shut the door behind us, chest still tight from the brush with Pen. Qi was already pulling the small vial from his satchel, holding it up to the light.

“Definitely clear,” he announced, sounding almost disappointed.

I frowned. “Clear doesn’t mean safe.”

Qi gave me a look that was equal parts amused and serious. “Exactly my concern. From a probability standpoint, something this clean after the last lot being contaminated is statistically improbable. But it does mean we’re not dealing with obvious poison. Nothing spiked. It seems like just water… boring, innocent water.”

I snorted despite myself, tension easing a fraction. “So, what now?”

“Now,” Qi said, tucking the vial safely away, “I run every test I know. Minerals, toxins, residue, if there’s a hint of corruption, I’ll find it. If not…” His eyes flicked to mine, more serious now. “…then I don’t know. I suppose, its innocent. Perhaps the tainted water was a once off. A test of Sandrock’s defences, to see if we would notice.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, why would Sandrock need to be tested? And if it wasn’t that, the worst case was someone, somewhere… wanted to hurt the people of Sandrock.

Instead of voicing my endless questions, I just nodded. “You’ll let me know what you find?”

“You’d hunt me down if I did not.” Qi said matter-of-factly.

“Correct.”

Qi gave a small salute, then slipped into the night, leaving me with the uneasy weight of what tonight really meant.

The next day I didn’t even bother to go to collect my commissions, screw them and screw Yan. He could bite me. I instead raced straight over to the Research Centre, knowing full well that Qi would have been awake since dawn just like I had been.

I leaned against the railing on the laboratory platform, a bitter, overly-caffeinated tea cupped in my palms made by Qi. He sipped his own before setting it down again on his bench, folding his arms. “Statistically, the likelihood of sequential shipments - one contaminated, one flawless - is negligible. There’s intention here. Someone knows exactly what they’re doing.”

I frowned at his insinuation. “Intention… but for what? Why poison one load and then make the next… spotless? Nobody even knew it was tainted. No one would have known at all if I hadn’t got you to test it in secret.”

Qi’s eyes darkened, thoughtful. He had been dwelling on this all night, thinking over every explanation, just as I had. “To lull any observers into a false sense of security. To make us think the water crisis is resolved. Whoever orchestrated the first contamination is clever. They understand surveillance, human behavior… they either know someone knows about it, or they are just covering all bases in case. They’re manipulating reactions without being seen.”

I pressed a palm to my forehead, my voice low. “So… someone wants us to trust that water without a doubt. To not watch, not question, even after all the attention that was bought to it with the robbery of the water from the caravan.”

Qi nodded, slowly. “Exactly. And now, by presenting a clean shipment after the poisoned one, they shift suspicion elsewhere if anyone had figured it out… or reduce scrutiny entirely. It’s a classic psychological misdirection.”

A chill crept along my spine. “But who… who would do that? And why?”

Qi hesitated, the lines of his face tightening in thought. “That,” he said finally, “is the very question we must answer. And the only way to do so is to observe the next movement carefully. Every delivery, every conversation, every unusual action. It’s up to us.”

I swallowed hard, staring at the table where the vials sat, already tested and re-tested by Qi overnight. My fingers twitched, itching to do something - anything. “So, the water’s safe… for now. But we can’t let our guard down.”

“Indeed,” Qi said, “For now, we have confirmation that this is safe to be added to our supply, but the underlying game is far from over.”

I nodded, my stomach tightening with a mix of relief and unease. The vials glinted innocently in the dim lamplight of his lab, but I knew better than to trust appearances. Someone was out there, orchestrating events with precision… and we were only beginning to see the strings.

I was moving quietly through my yard, the sun had gone down half an hour ago and I was checking over my machines as I shut them down for the night, when a shadow shifted near the back corner. My pulse spiked, my body stiffening automatically.

“Lucia,” a low voice called from the darkness. Smooth, teasing, confident.

I froze. That voice. I knew it anywhere.

“You’re… in my yard,” I said cautiously, squinting into the shadows.

“You said I may not enter your house without an invitation after last time. You remember that, don’t ya?” The shadow replied, and then stepped forward just enough for me to see the outline of him.

I exhaled, a mixture of exasperation and relief. “I remember. You want one?”

Logan tilted his head, “I might.” His voice held that same arrogance that made my stomach twist.

I hesitated, then nodded, moving to the door and opening it wide enough to let him step in. “Fine. Come in. But you’d better not be causing trouble and – oh my god can you move a bit faster please? If anyone sees you here, we are both screwed” I hissed at his leisurely pace, ushering him in as I glanced over my shoulder.

He laughed softly as he entered, boots quiet on the wooden floor. “Trouble tends t’ follow me,” he said as I shut the door quickly behind us. “But I promise, for you, I can behave.”

I led him into the kitchen, where the sconces cast warm, flickering light across the counters where he now leaned. “So… the water situation,” I began, keeping my voice low. “It’s clear. The last shipment from the Church. We tested it. Everything seems… fine. But that doesn’t mean we know what’s really going on.”

Logan pushed off the counter, circling slowly, like he was sizing up the space - and me. “So, clear water, you say?” His voice was low, amused, but there was an edge to it.

I folded my arms, trying not to fidget. “Yes. It’s clean. We don’t know why, or for how long. But it’s… fine. At least for now.”

He stopped in front of me, eyes sharp, calculating. “That’s curious. Especially considering the last shipment…” He paused. “Someone wants to keep noses out of trouble… or maybe they wanna look like heroes when the town’s runnin’ dry.”

I blinked. “Heroes?”

He shrugged, leaning closer. “Could be. Could be a show. People love a good savior story. If the water runs out and then suddenly—ta-da! - more appears, people forget all the little disasters that came before.”

I let out a slow breath. “Qi suggested something similar… someone’s being clever. Or dangerous. Or both.”

“Both,” he said, grinning under his bandana, just enough to make my stomach twist. Then his expression softened slightly, almost conspiratorial. “Which is why you need to keep me in the loop, Lucia. You’re smart enough to see the patterns, but… well, sometimes you need someone willing to handle the messy side of things.”

I gave him a wary look. “Messy?”

“Ya’ll would be all sick as dogs right now if I hadn’t done the messy part of hijackin’ that first tainted shipment,” he said, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes. “Just… help me figure this out before someone gets hurt.”

He tipped his head back, mock-saluting. “Just keep me in the loop…” His grin made his eyes crinkle. “I like being part of the story.”

“I know you do, you saved mine and Qi’s asses last night by luring Pen away and warning us. Thank you. Wasn’t too sure how to explain that one to our scientist though. He doesn’t know you’re involved.”

Logan’s eyes sparkled. That look made my knees go a little weak, as much as I loathe to admit it. The white-haired bandit got under my skin for some reason.

“I knew you’d be needin’ my help. Good thing I like to loiter.” He cocked his head. “Was I hearing things, or was Pen dabblin’ in a little flirting with you?”

I scoffed. “Oh please,” waving him off.

“I thought I saw a bit of longing in your eyes too.” He added, a flash of something I couldn’t read crossing his expression.

“Is the yakboy jealous?” I teased, leaning back against the counter with more ease than I felt.

I have no idea where that came from.

Logan straightened, leaning against the counter with that infuriating casual ease, one hand braced near me. “Careful, Lucia,” he murmured, voice low, teasing but sharp, like he was testing the edges of something he shouldn’t touch. “You throw words like that around, and I might start believing you.”

I stiffened. “Believing what?”

“That you’re… curious.” His eyes flicked over mine, too intent, and that small spark of a grin didn’t reach them. “And that little jab about jealousy? Dangerous game.”

My stomach twisted. I opened my mouth, closed it, tried again. “I’m not - ” I stopped myself, suddenly aware of how close he was, the heat from him so sharp it was impossible to ignore. “I’m just… tired. And worried. That’s all.”

His gaze softened slightly, just enough to make my chest ache. “Tired and worried. Hmm.” He leaned a little closer, but didn’t touch me. “Fair. But don’t go handling this alone. I don’t… I don’t like being left out.”

I swallowed, feeling my pulse spike. “Fine. But no heroic stunts. I don’t need my bandit getting caught - or worse.”

Pure delight lit every inch of visible skin, but his eyes held something darker, something unspoken. “Your bandit, huh?”

I froze, not even realizing that had come out of my mouth. I couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re impossible.”

“And yet…” His gaze dropped to my lips for the barest instant before snapping back to my eyes, “you’re still here.”

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. The ache in my chest was sudden, insistent. “Because this is my house,” I said softly.

“Right.” His voice was a low rumble now. “But you know that’s not what I meant.”

My throat tightened. I wanted to argue, to deny it, but the words stuck. There was no denying the pull between us - the tension in every glance, every brush of air as he moved.

He tilted his head, and for a heartbeat the world narrowed to just us. “So… are we going to figure out why that water was clean, or just… keep circling around each other?”

I bit my lip, the ache in my chest twisting. “Both,” I whispered, almost to myself.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes softening into something unreadable. “Good. That’s… enough for now.”