The javelin’s faceplate crashed to the ground, cracking cleanly in half.

“Bollocks!” Zoe grumbled, snatching back the elbow that had bumped the mask off the cluttered kitchen table. Reaching for the fallen pieces, she glanced at the clock. She was running out of time to finish this before she had to head in to work at the Forge.

“Language, Mum,” reminded the light of Zoe’s life. “If I can’t say that at school, you can’t say it, either.”

“Bollocks to that in my own house, and it’s barely a swear, at that,” Zoe sighed, tossing the pieces onto the equally crowded counter. “How is it I’m doing this when you’re the one who wants a new Colossus mask?”

“‘Cause you’re a javelin mechanic,” Anden replied with a 12-year-old’s confident authority.

“Gluing bits of random stuff together is harder than building a real one.” Zoe stretched, her knuckles brushing the pitted wall of the apartment’s small dining area as she breathed in the aromas of craft paint and the grilled cheese sandwiches they’d made for lunch. “Why can’t you wear your blue Ranger mask again? We did such a good job on it.”

“It’s better for a little kid. Really badass Freelancers pilot Colossus suits.”

“All my Freelancers are badass, thank you kindly, and why can we say ‘badass’ but not ‘bollocks’? Bring me that glue, would you?”

Anden rolled his eyes as he maneuvered through snug kitchen to plop the glue jar on the tabletop.

“Well, when I’m a Freelancer, I’m piloting a Colossus.”

Zoe stifled a sigh as Anden mentioned his long-held dream. Again. If he could see the javelins she repaired, torn apart and burned by creatures, human and otherwise, that assaulted her Freelancers every day, he might not be so keen.

“Can you hold that steady so I can glue it…yeah, there.”

“Speaking of javelins...” Anden’s tone suggested she probably wouldn’t like whatever idea was coming. “I was thinking maybe I could come to the bonfire outside the gates with you this year…”

 Zoe’s eyebrows shot up. “Were you now? I thought you’d want to enter the family bonfire’s mask contest.”

Anden’s hair, the same red-brown as Zoe’s and growing longer by the week, fell in front of his eyes as he shook his head. “The family bonfire’s tiny. And for little kids...”

“And safe,” Zoe added.

“Yeah, because it’s in the middle of the Fort,” Anden scoffed. “The real Season of Skulls bonfire is the only time we can go outside the walls with the Freelancers.”

“Who are working extra duty to keep skorpions away,” Zoe shot back. “People at the gate bonfire have to be able to take care of themselves.”

“I can take care of myself.” Anden said defensively. “You know all the Freelancers there, Mum. This is a great chance for you to introduce me to someone who’d make a good mentor.”

Zoe slammed the lid back on the glue jar with a bit more force than necessary. “If you need my help to get a costume helmet together, you’re not ready to get near a real javelin.”

Anden’s lanky frame swelled as he sucked in an indignant breath. “And how do I get near a real javelin if I never start training?”

“I am not having this conversation” Zoe huffed. She slid the helmet in Anden’s direction and stood. “If you’re mature enough for the gate bonfire, you can paint your own bleeding mask this afternoon while I run to the Forge—”

“But Mum, it’s a holiday! Why do you have to work?”

“Because Lucky Jak had another ursix run-in, and his Ranger needs a quick fix before he takes it back out on bonfire patrol tonight.”

Under his scraggly bangs, Anden’s eyes lit with hope. “Wait—if I’m mature enough...does that mean you’re taking me to the gate bonfire?”

“If you finish your mask, and if you get there on time.” Zoe scooped her gear from its crowded shelf and smiled despite herself as Anden yelled “Yes!” and punched the air. She unzipped her duffel to find the bits she’d gathered to make her own—unfinished—Interceptor mask. The joys of parenting, she thought ruefully as she emptied the bag onto the shelf. At least Anden’s mask would be nice. If he managed to finish it.

“Where’s the orange paint, Mum?”

“Third shelf here, in the box with the turquoise we bought for mine,” called Zoe, slinging the duffel over her shoulder.

“I’ll be a couple hours, so it’s probably best if you can meet me by the gate, OK? You know how to get there?”

“Yep,” Anden said distractedly, as he dug through the box of paints.

Zoe paused at the door. “You need to be on time, okay? It’s a big deal to get people outside the walls, even if it’s just outside the gate. The Sentinels and Freelancers need to know the crowd size to keep track of everyone.”

“Got it.” The tip of Anden’s tongue stuck out as he dabbed paint on the mask.

“See you there, then. Love you, boyo.”

“Yep, love you, too…” Anden didn’t look up as Zoe hurried out the door.

As the sun set behind the walls of Fort Tarsis, Zoe shouldered her way through the crowds that flowed towards the gate. The damage to Jak’s javelin had been worse than he’d let on, and now she was late—after she’d nagged Anden to be on time, dammit, and wasn’t that the story of her parenting life?

She wove through the narrow street and eased around a couple in… were those supposed to be wolven masks? Anden had made a better wolven when he was six—which he sure isn't anymore, she thought with a sigh.

She should’ve put her foot down and dragged him to the family bonfire one more year, but his mentor question had thrown her for a loop. The cheek! Maybe some of her Freelancers could share battle stories to give him a reality check. Not Jak, though—the stories he and his partner Rythe told usually made their dangerous missions sound a bit too fun.

The main gate came into view as Zoe squeezed around a final corner. Torches flickered in the darkening twilight along the sturdy wall that protected Fort Tarsis. The stinging smoke made her eyes water as she searched the crowd…and saw no sign of Anden. Had he lost track of time again, or did something happen…?

“Brave seasons!” boomed a Sentinel. “We gather this night to breach the wall, to light the flames that drive out the darkness and cower our enemies. Let us celebrate another year of survival!”

The revelers pressed towards the gate, eager to experience the dangerous thrill of venturing outside the wall that kept all manner of savagery at bay. Zoe craned her neck, hoping to see the flash of orange that was her Colossus among the many flashes of orange in the crowd.

“Mum!”  

Frustration replaced worry as she spotted a gangly arm waving from under an admittedly-pretty-good-looking Colossus helmet.

“There you are. What happened to ‘Yes, Mum, I’ll be on time’?”

“I know, but—”

“It’s all right,” she sighed, feeling a flash of hypocrisy. The gate’s open now, so we need to just go. I’d take your mask off till we’re outside—it’s hard to see while people are squishing through.”

Anden pulled his carryall closer and gripped his helmet protectively as they shuffled through the gate. His brown eyes flashed with excitement, awe, and a hint of fear as the crowd began to flow away and he realized they were actually outside the gates.

The crowd parted, hushing as two Sentinels strode towards the enormous pile of wood that would soon be the fort’s biggest bonfire, brandishing torches as they called out “Brave seasons!”

“May their bones be picked clean!” the crowd roared in response.

Zoe hadn't been to the outside bonfire since Anden was born. While everyone else's attention was focused on the Sentinels, she scanned the darkness beyond the crowd for signs of danger.

“This is the best part,” Zoe whispered as she turned back to her son. “Even with the fuss getting here, I’m glad you get to see it.”

“Me, too, Mum. Woo!” Anden joined the cheer as the Sentinels lowered their torches and flames roared towards the sky.

“Whoa, that went up fast!”

“Yeah, I think they put some kind of accelerant on it.” She watched Anden’s face shine in the warm light. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“It’s awesome. So now what happens?” 

On cue, a band near the wall launched into a celebratory song.

“The party starts.”

Zoe toured a wide-eyed Anden to the heavily-laden food tables, beckoned by their savory aromas. Hawkers teased and challenged revelers to try their luck at games of chance. As they neared the stage where mask contests would soon be underway, Zoe cast periodic glances towards the darkness—the Sentinels and Freelancers had special bonfire patrols, but you never knew what the fire and noise might lure in.

“Whoa, look at those Colossus masks those guys have! See, Mum, I told you Colossus masks were the most badass.”

“Oh, they do look near the real thing!” The kids looked several years older than Anden, and she guessed they’d been working on their masks for more than just a week.

“Those are my people. Maybe we can talk about how to make my visor better!” Anden strode happily over to the group of teens, almost-but-not-quite skipping as he pulled on his helmet.

And there he goes, thought Zoe as she watched the group. She thought the tall, dark-haired girl was Rin, the niece of another mechanic she worked with. Several boys laughed and bragged, full of youthful confidence.

There’s safety in numbers, and it’s good for him to connect with other kids, she told herself. Further reflecting that refreshments might distract a worrying brain, she turned and strolled towards a cider vendor. She hadn’t walked for long when Anden reappeared at her side.

“That was quick. Get any good building hints?”

“Nah, not really,” Anden replied quietly. “They said mine was okay for a kid, and then they kind of… stopped talking to me.”

Zoe’s heart pulled. “Don’t give them too much credit, boyo. It’s not like they’re real javelin mechanics.”

Anden shrugged in response, his eyes cast down to the gravel at their feet.

“How about some caramel corn?” Zoe tried, hoping to distract him from the hurt she could almost feel radiating off his rangy body.

“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.”

“What about some cider? It’s always freshly pressed and piping—” A scream ripped the air, and the crowd turned as one towards the source: the group Anden had approached.

An eerily pale wolven had leapt from the shadows and clamped its jaws around the arm of a terrified girl.

“It got Rin!” cried a boy, as a pair of Freelancers charged past Zoe and Anden. The blast from the first Freelancer’s machine pistol slammed into the wolven’s side, jolting the girl’s arm free.

The Interceptor flew around the beast, hitting it with another pistol blast to draw it away. The second Freelancer pulled off the special “civilian” medical pack attached to her Ranger as she rushed towards the girl, who now lay in shock as blood poured from her arm.

The Interceptor hovered just above the fallen creature; as the pilot looked back towards the girl, the injured wolven lunged its head upwards, catching the javelin’s leg between its teeth.

The Ranger leapt to her feet while smoothly freeing her assault rifle. Her well-aimed shots to the beast’s head made it go limp. Zoe relaxed her protective grip on Anden.

As two more Freelancers sped by them to aid their colleagues, Zoe saw her son’s ashen face and pulled him into a hug.

“Will they be okay, Mum?” Anden mumbled into her shoulder.

“I hope so. Those Freelancers got to the lass quickly, and they’ve got backup now.”

“What about the Interceptor? Javelins are supposed to protect them, but...that was a lot of blood.”

“I’d guess that javelin will be in my shop first thing tomorrow. As for the Freelancer… well, Jameson’s pretty tough, and it would’ve been worse if Richards didn’t aim as well as she does.”

Zoe cupped his chin and lifted his eyes. “It’s their job—the wolven, the blood. All of it. That probably won’t be the most mangled javelin I work on tomorrow.”

Anden swallowed.

“I worry about them every day, and when I imagine you out there…” Zoe hugged him close again. “Not the easiest idea for a mum to handle.”

Anden returned her squeeze, then shifted so they looked at the bonfire side by side.

“Yeah, I think I get that better now, Mum.” Anden stared at the flames. “Are all wolven that big?”

“I’ve heard of bigger, but one of the Freelancers could probably tell you for sure.”

At the sound of heavy bootsteps on gravel, they turned to see a Ranger javelin with several noticeably clean-and-shiny spots on the plating striding towards them.

“Thought that was you, Zoe. You both all right?” he asked.

“We’re good, Jak, thanks for checking. How’s Jameson’s leg?”

“More than a scratch, but I’ve seen worse. There was this one time...” A glance at still-pale Anden halted his tale. “Hold on, is this young man your Anden? Hardly the wee lad I remember,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, sir, I’m Anden. And you’re Lucky Jak, right?” Anden returned a small nervous smile. “Mum’s told stories about you.”

“Well, they must be good ones, as I am her favorite Freelancer.” Jak winked at Anden, then looked at the Colossus mask still gripped tightly in the boy’s hands. “That’s a good-looking helmet you’ve got.”

Anden looked down as if he’d forgotten it was there. “Oh... thanks. Mum did a lot of it.” He glanced up as the injured girl, now wrapped up on a stretcher, was carried past them.

“He finished it himself while I was in the shop this afternoon.” Zoe smiled. “Wanted to look sharp for his first outside bonfire.”

“You certainly got a memorable first bonfire story,” Jak said wryly. “Good thing you made a Colossus—we could use the backup.”

“Maybe not yet,” Anden said. He glanced at Zoe and they shared a sad smile.

“Well, whenever you’re ready, you’ll be in good hands” Lucky Jak settled a friendly hand on Anden’s shoulder. ”No one knows javelins like your mum—and thanks for the rush job this afternoon, Zoe.”

“Anything for my favorite Freelancer.”

Jak smiled. “I’d best get it back to work.” Seeing Anden’s sober expression, he said, “That was a fright, lad, but remember why we’re out here. They’re still alive and we’re still alive. Surviving the fights makes us stronger.”

Anden was silent for a moment, then gave Lucky Jak a firm nod.

“That’s the way.” Jak returned the nod. “Brave season to you both!”

Anden’s serious eyes watched Jak resume his patrol, and Zoe hoped the concern in her own eyes wasn’t too obvious. “Ready to head home, love?”

Anden turned his head and held her eyes for a moment.

“Maybe not yet.” He pushed his chin up with a shade of defiance that made pride replace some of Zoe’s concern. “You said that cider was fresh?”

“Best of the year,” she replied warmly. “Shall we?”

“Wait—I almost forgot!” Anden started to open his pack, then paused. “I dunno, maybe it’s silly now, but… this is the reason I was late.”

“Don’t worry about that, it all—” Zoe stared at the mask Anden held, its turquoise surface glowing in the firelight.

“Oh, that color is beautiful! Wait, is that…?”

 “Yeah, it’s my old Ranger mask. I felt bad you didn’t have one for the bonfire because you were helping me. I saw the paint you bought when I got the orange for my helmet, and I thought...well. Sorry it’s not a new one.”

Tears pricked the back of Zoe’s eyes. “Anden, this is lovely. Thank you so much.”

Anden smiled self-consciously. “No problem, Mum.”

Zoe quickly wiped her eyes and pulled the mask over her face. “We might need to get some caramel corn to go with the cider so we can show off our gorgeous masks in two lineups.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Anden said, donning his helmet. He linked his arm through hers as they set off, the colors of their masks dancing in the flickering light.

Special thanks to Brianne Battye, Ryan Cormier, Mary Kirby, Cathleen Rootsaert, Jay Watamaniuk, Patrick Weekes, and my lads, with love.