She-Ra: Broken Reflections (CH 5)

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The Crisis Room had always been cramped. The rest of the castle had been expanded as the Light Zone grew, but the secure rooms like this and the dungeons were the same as they had been back when the palace was just a fort. The already tight space was made tighter, first by the advanced technologies that’d been packed into the place, and then made tighter still by the awkward way all the now-dead equipment had been shoved to the side to make room for a simple table that was slowly getting buried under paperwork. Queen Lynda lit the whole room with her magic, maintaining four different balls of lightning at once. The shallow shadows made the room feel even smaller than it already was.

The three royals were meeting people in groups; Acting-Captain Huntara reported how the Watch was responding to the damage, then Grizzlor, the Chief of Staff, sat with them and listened to Catra and Scorpia’s report. They'd gone over everything they knew; Light Spinner had been working with Light Hope, they both needed Adora for something called the Heart of Etheria, and Adora had saved Scorpia's life. He’d since left and Catra was… debating, their next steps with Queen Mom.

“You’re assuming that Light Hope really is gone from the Black Garnet,” Catra said with careful evenness, “and that if she is, she can’t come back.”

“I’m more than a little familiar with the workings of the Black Garnet,” Queen Lynda said tersely, “This machine was invited in by Light Spinner, and now that she’s left she can’t get back in unless it’s invited again. Launching an attack is a terrible risk.”

Scorpia had a bad habit of clicking her claws together when she was nervous, but the steady click-click-click was buried by the rising tension in the room. “She already attacked us!” Catra snapped

“Even so,” Lynda said, a little cautiously, “We’ve not been allowed an army since the war and the Watch is busy helping the city recover from the blackout. There’s no one who can go after her.”

Queen Lynda and Catra stared at each other. Both knew what was going to happen next, but neither wanted to be the one to go first. Eventually, Catra went in. “Scorpia and I could—”

“Absolutely not—”

“Will you just listen for once—”

Scorpia deliberately closed her claws and did her best to tune them out; she'd listened to this argument constantly. Catra hated the insinuation that she couldn't fend for herself and Queen Lynda had been put in danger by her father so often that she'd lock her girls in the palace if she could. They were both going to shout 'You're not listening,' at each other louder and louder until someone made them stop. 

Catra slammed a fist down on the table. It didn't disturb the thick stone, but it knocked over some delicately balanced books and papers. "I don't know what Light Hope is doing," she said, “but if she's willing to attack a Runestone then every Princess in Etheria could be in danger. We have to act. Now!”

“And we are,” Queen Lynda insisted. “I’ve sent a messenger to Bright Moon. Queen Angella has direct means of calling on Mystacor—”

“That could take days!” Catra snapped. Queen Lynda raised an eyebrow and Catra looked away. She took a deep breath and tried again, more calmly, “It’ll take a day to reach Bright Moon,” she said, “and if Sparkles isn’t there it’ll take about another full day to reach Mystacor, and then even if Castaspella wants to help she’ll still have to argue with the Council about what to do. And if Light Spinner was telling the truth they’ll freak out and keep—" her mouth twisted in a very malicious sneer around these words, "—the magicless barbarians from ruining everything with their brutish-ness, or whatever."

“They have a lot of good reasons to panic,” Queen Lynda said, “and I want to be careful of giving them more, fair or not.” She raised her voice to say those last words before Catra could object again, and the girl crossed her arms and sulked. “You’re too young to remember the Fright Zone and the beginnings of the Horde, but many are wary of us, and for good reason."

“It’s not though!” Catra threw herself back in the chair. “We can do things, help people, but…”

The sentence faded away, unfinished. Queen Lynda sighed. “I know,” she said, “Too many people look at me and still see what my father did, and it… takes time, for such wounds to fade. We have to be patient.”

“But people could get hurt in the meantime,” Catra said. “And for stuff they had nothing to do with! What if they screw us and either Hope or Spinner do… whatever it is they’re doing?

“We don’t know what they’re capable of,” Lynda said, “and we have no way of countering them.”

Catra, if anything, grew even tenser. Scorpia hadn’t seen her this worked up in a while. “Then we need to make sure they don’t get a chance to—”

Quietly, Scorpia stood up. Neither of her loved ones noticed as she slipped out of the room; she doubted they’d notice she was gone at all.

Outside, the corridor was barely lit by flickering torches. The shadows trembled, following the slowly shifting flames and making the hallway feel cavernous. Scorpia sighed. She looked at her claw and began to make a light—

Scorpia flinched when her magic touched her, and lost her connection altogether as it began to crawl up her arm. Hot sparks scattered across the floor and she jumped back. It's fine, she told herself. Light Hope's gone. It's my magic again.

She still didn’t make a light for herself. She pretended there wasn’t a reason to be afraid of the dark.

Scorpia kept walking, and soon she was standing on one of the private balconies overlooking the city. It didn’t connect to the catwalks the public used, though of course, a Scorponi could climb anywhere if they decided to. It offered her favorite view of the Light Zone, but none of it was lit up now. 

The only light came from the Daymoon, which went below the walls several hours before it dipped under the horizon. She smelled smoke, both from torches people had lit to see and from harsher, more acrid smoke from the fires that the broken equipment had started. The fans and lights wouldn’t be working until tomorrow at the earliest.

Scorpia stood there a long time, taking in the distant sounds of foot traffic and watching the light fade over the walls. It was calm from here, soothing her nerves. Catra loved to be near the city, close enough to the hustle and bustle to feel it but Scorpia needed more space to recharge herself before she got involved with the insanity that was her family.

“Oh!”

Scorpia flinched at the unexpected sound and turned to see Adora standing in the hallway. She sucked in a breath; the girl looked awful. Her face and shoulders were covered in burns and bandages and her face looked immensely tired. She’d brought magic healing aids from Mystacor— she said she had a lot of lab accidents— but even enchanted healing tired you out. 

Adora hadn’t even been coherent at first; neither of them was. Scorpia remembered— noise. Lots of horrible screeches and high-pitched hums. Everything that happened had seemed so far away, and the noise would interrupt her thoughts when she tried to move. She barely remembered what Light Hope said. Adora had tried to explain, but she wasn't in much better shape than Scorpia. Catra had filled them both in at the Healers and Adora had tried to leave, to go after her mother, but she'd passed out.

Adora barely looked rested now, despite the hours of sleep. She had one of those faces that were always tight, frowning or concentrating or smiling nervously. It was pleasant enough but Scorpia felt tired looking at the poor girl. 

Scorpia leaned against the wall and gestured invitingly with a claw. “Do you feel any better?” She asked.

Adora hesitantly walked onto the balcony, like a dog that expected to get snapped at. “Yes,” she said absent-mindedly. “I’m, uh. I’m so sorry about all of," she gestured to the Fright Zone, "this.”

Scorpia had been expecting this and immediately said, “It’s not your fault.”

“If it weren’t for me then Light Hope wouldn’t have attacked us,” Adora said, just as promptly. 

“Okay,” Scorpia said, “but like, if they hadn’t decided to attack us, then they wouldn’t have attacked us either.”

Adora huffed.”That doesn’t count.”

Scorpia shrugged. "You still almost died saving me."

"I had to," Adora protested. "You're a Princess, you're important—"

"If I'm important," Scorpia interrupted, "it’s because I have a job protecting people. I let you down and you still saved me, so you're still good."

"That's not—" Adora sputtered. "It was stronger than you, that doesn't count!"

Scorpia shrugged. "Sorry," she said, "it was stronger than you, too. You're still a hero."

"But— I'm not even a real—" Adora kept moving her mouth, trying to form words long after she'd run out. Scorpia watched her turn and stare at the cityscape. She gripped the railing tightly, so tight Scorpia wondered if it hurt.

"Listen, Adora—" Adora turned quickly, and trembled a little. It wasn't just the skin around her knuckles turning white, the poor girl was as pale as a sheet. "You're not going to be punished for existing wrong," Scorpia continued, her voice as soft as possible. "You're a valid person, okay?"

Adora closed her eyes for a second. She nodded jerkily and took a few unsteady breaths. "Thanks," she said, hugging herself. "What about… my mom?"

Adora's mouth had twisted around the word 'mom,' like saying it stung, but Scorpia acted like she didn’t notice. "Welp," she said. "Queen Lynda is going to pass this along to Mystacor. Catra is sure she's gone after…"

"...Light Hope," Adora said quietly. Hatefully. 

Click-click-click

Scorpia's claws began tapping together again. They sounded louder up here but she still didn't notice it was happening. "Yeah. Her."

"It," Adora said, not exactly sneering. "Princess Catra told us it's a machine, remember? It's not a person, it’s an alien—"

Click-click-click

Adora had frozen in place. Her hands gripped the railing like she expected something to tear her away. Scorpia reached out to put a claw on Adora's shoulder, belated remembering how badly Adora had jumped last time. Adora flinched and Scorpia took a step back again. Adora looked a little guilty, and Scorpia slowly put a claw on her shoulder again. Adora let her this time, relaxing by degrees.

"What am I supposed to do?" She asked. 

Click-click-click

"I mean, you don't have to do anything," Scorpia said nervously. "We can take care of everything."

"It wants me," Adora said. "What, I'm supposed to just watch while someone I don't even know gets hurt?"

Click-click-click

"They're experts!" Scorpia said, a touch desperate. "They know what they're doing!"

"But it's my problem!" Adora protested. "If I can't deal with it, then what good am I?"

Click-click-clack!

"Look!" Scorpia interrupted. Adora took a step back. She winced, rubbed the back of her head with her claw, then tried again. "Look, one way or another your Mom is going to get brought in. We could have been killed a couple of hours ago, so why don't we just let someone else handle stuff?"

A riot of emotions fought across Adora’s face before it finally settled. "Alright," she said. "Cool. Cool cool cool. I'll just head back to my room and… get some rest? Because of my injuries? So don't worry about where I am."

Scorpia nodded, feeling relieved and a little guilty over that relief. “Get some rest,” she said, "They'll take care of everything, don't worry."

Adora went back inside, leaving an incoherent trail of apologies and worry in her wake. Scorpia rested her head on the railing and groaned softly to herself.

I need to get her to talk to a therapist, she thought. On top of negotiating with Mystacor and fixing the entire city and making sure the Black Garnet is safe. She was swamped, they all would be for months.

Her claws gripped the railing, in the same place Adora’s hands had. Mystacor should help us. Zoar’s wings, I hope they will. Catra was right, Mystacor might either blow them off or decide to 'help' in a less-than-helpful way. What if they do something to Black Garnet? What if they decide we can't be trusted and…

There was an odd, metallic snap that pulled Scorpia's attention down. She'd torn right through the steel safety rail. She twisted it back into shape and mentally added it to the list.

Okay, she thought. We don’t have to deal with Light Hope. If Mystacor messes with us, we'll just… talk to them or something.

In the meantime, there was plenty of work for her to distract herself with. She'd done a terrible job hosting already, and that was with Catra and her Mom helping. Catra especially, she was sure, would appreciate a break. And if she had enough to do, maybe she could forget everything that’d started to loom over her.

---

After losing the fight with her mother, Catra had done her best to be a model Princess. She and Scorpia had helped organize a group to take stock of all the damages the electrical surge had caused, they’d fought with the city council over how to afford repairs, and even met with reporters for both of the Light Zone’s newspapers. Scorpia had been brimming with nervous energy, and Catra had been pulled behind her as her big sister did her best to kick the city back into shape. The whole time, Catra did her best not to grumble as she was talked over, as people kept looking at Scorpia first, and her ideas weren’t taken seriously without a real Princess saying they were okay. All it had done was codify the decision she’d already made.

I’m not being reckless! Catra thought as she slipped into the skiff bay. I’ve considered my options and… made a judgment call.

She imagined saying that to either of her Moms and winced. That excuse wouldn’t be enough to hold off Scorpia, let alone her mothers. Going after a sorceress, even one with as little power as Light Spinner, really toed the line between dangerous and foolhardy. Even if she did uncover a new way of doing magic she was going to be in a staggering amount of trouble. 

Well, so what? She thought crossly to herself. If someone doesn't get ahead of Light Spinner we’ll never be able to stop her. I’m doing this because it’s right, not to get something out of it. 

She couldn’t even sell that lie to herself.

Catra hefted the pack and moved softly, prowling towards the hanger doors. The darkness helped calm her down; nighttime had always felt like a shield. It wasn’t perfect; everything looked washed out and colorless. It still made her feel a little better knowing there were things only she could do.

Inside, the hanger was empty of people; at least half the guards were in the city helping with clean-up. Catra had left a gap in the remaining patrol routes just big enough to grab a skiff, and the usually active hangar stood vacant. Each step echoed no matter how softly she moved, and Catra was very good at moving silently. 

The bay doors had been left open, and light from two of the moons cast bright white light across the bay. They were low in the sky that night, and half of the bay was covered in thin shadows so dark it looked like parts of the world were just missing. The other half was lit a bright white, the light reflecting from the exposed metal and ruining Catra’s night vision.

She hissed in pain and ducked behind a crate for cover. The shadows hid her but it was suddenly impossible to see; the shadows were too dark for her eyes to match the light and the light was too bright for her to see through the shadows. She pivoted her ears around to try and find any undo surprises; Scorpia might have predicted her she’d come here and that was the last thing she needed. 

Catra froze. Her ears leaned to the side as she barely made out the sound of paper rustling. She crawled forwards, cocking her head as she pinpointed the unexpected noise. That’s my skiff, she realized indignantly. Who's messing with my skiff?

She dove forwards, landing in a pool of blackness left by a work desk, and barely took a second to reorient herself before diving towards the next one. The shadowy stripes painting the hanger weren’t an ideal cover and it just wasn’t possible to walk silently over metal, so she moved as quickly as she could. In the brief pauses she took, she would take stock with her ears and nose, trying to find out more about this intruder who was touching her skiff. 

There weren’t many new noises, just the occasional rustle of fabric as they moved and the occasional noisy turns of the page. She could smell burned hair now, even through the bland soap they’d used to clean themselves. Catra thought she could also smell lantern oil burning, but it wasn’t very strong and she’d be able to see a lantern burning unless it was…

Catra stopped as she reached her skiff. On the far side would be the intruder. Unless it was magic, she finished the thought. She put a hand up to one side of her face, shielding her eyes from both moon's light, and peered over the side to see Adora perched next to Catra’s skiff.

She felt some of her anger leave as she looked at the little idiot; apparently, the girl planned on learning how to hotwire the thing and fly it from some old manual all in one night. She was utterly fixated on the book, and if Catra assumed she started from the beginning then she'd have made it pretty far pretty fast. Catra was grudgingly impressed.

In Adora’s left hand was a lantern, with a gray flame that cast almost no light. There were glyphs around the edges that glowed with golden power and Catra assumed its enchantment, whatever it was, let Adora see in pitch blackness. Her hand nervously swung the handle back and forth as she read, and even though Catra was right behind her, she didn’t take notice. 

Catra reached out and batted Adora’s ponytail into her face. The girl blew it back and kept reading. Catra batted it again. 

Adora spared her an annoyed glance and went back to reading before she processed what she’d seen and looked back. Adora shot upright and nearly fell, forcing Catra to grab both Adora and the lantern before either could give them away. 

When Catra’s hand closed around the lantern’s handle, color unfurled in her eyes. She could see everything like it was noon and she dropped Adora in shock. The other girl’s skin was pale and her eyes wide, and she’d clamped a hand over her mouth to keep her shout from being heard.

“Keep quiet,” Catra hissed, “Do you want them to hear you?”

Adora shook her head. She put her hand down and squinted, slowly coming to her feet. “Princess Catra?” she asked.

Catra snorted. “Aw, you forgot my name already? I thought you liked me.”

“I can’t see without my lantern!” Adora hissed. “Give it back!”

She thrust herself forwards, but Catra easily stepped out of the way. “Not so fast,” she said. “First I want to know exactly what it is you’re up to.”

Adora froze in place. “Just… It’s not suspicious,” she said.

Catra raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Because I’m... sleepwalking!” she said with a sudden burst of inspiration. “I mean, I’m not sleepwalking now, that’s obvious, but I was!”

Catra leaned back against her skiff and waited.

“And, after I was sleepwalking,” said Adora, only a little desperate, “I, uh, wanted to see what I was doing back when I was sleepwalking, so I kept working, and then you showed up and then… it was, uh, now, I guess.” 

“...I guess that makes sense,” said Catra.

Adora perked up. “Really?”

“No.”

Adora glared at her. “Well, okay then,” she lied in a bright voice, “I’ll just go back to bed then! Could you give me my lantern back?”

Catra knew Adora would come back as soon as she thought Catra had left, but it didn’t matter. The skiff was noisy and the guards would lock the hanger down as soon as she took off. She reached out and took the girl's hand, guiding it to the lantern. “Here. Don’t get into trouble on the way back.”

Adora grabbed the lantern’s handle and locked eyes with Catra. As she took the lantern away her gaze held Catra’s, who shifted uncomfortably. Now that she wasn’t holding the lantern, Adora had faded back into a washed-out grey, and it felt weird that she could see so much of Catra and Catra could barely see her. “Well, what are you waiting for?” she asked.

It was hard to tell, but Adora seemed to be frowning. She looked Catra up and down, noticing the backpack around her shoulders, the bullwhip at her waist, and finally the intense glare Catra was giving her. She snapped her fingers. “You’re sneaking out too!” she exclaimed.

Catra shot forward and covered Adora’s mouth with her hand. “Keep it down!” she snapped. “And so what if I am?”

Adora tried to mumble through Catra’s hand while gesturing to herself. Catra rolled her eyes. “You’re not coming."

Adora mumbled more indignantly and gestured more frantically. 

“Persuasive,” Catra noted dryly. 

Adora really was nothing like her mother; her face was less like an open book and more like an entire theatrical production. She decided to raise her voice, trying to shove her words around or through Catra’s hand. When that somehow failed she gave Catra a look that could have made a charging bull realize it had pressing business to do back the way it came.

Catra tilted her ears around, but she didn’t think had overheard Adora’s production. “Hey,” she whispered. “It’s not like I’m going because I want to!”

Adora looked skeptical. 

Catra growled. “Fine, yes, I want to, sue me! I want to have a reason to exist for once, for Mom to— to actually care about something I say for once, and—

She shut her mouth, sure she’d said too much. Adora had stopped moving, and without her trying to mime her argument her expression was harder to read. Catra, wanting to see her face better, reached down and wrapped her other hand around the lantern’s handle. Her fingers brushed Adora’s, which were colder than she’d expected. She moved her palm over the top of Adora’s hand, rubbing a circle across it with her thumb without noticing.

Adora looked surprised at the sudden touch but didn’t look away. She leaned forward, concentrating on Catra with a surprising amount of intensity. It was an odd expression, focused and soft all at once. Catra's face felt a little warm in the night air for no apparent reason, and she looked away from Adora to take a breath

“Look,” she said quietly, “I don’t have great reasons for going, but I— I need to go. And someone does need to go before something terrible happens, and I’ve been on adventures before. I grew up on the street, I’ve been to the Crimson Wastes, I survived dating—” Catra realized she was starting to get personal and shifted tracks. “Have you left Mystacor before?”

Adora shook her head.

“Right!” Catra let go of the lantern and showed Adora her hand with its claws extended. She sheathed them, then slowly drug her fingers across her throat. “If I was a bandit,” she said quietly, “I could kill you, just like that.”

Adora held very still, staring at Catra with an almost uncomfortable intensity. Catra ignored it, glad her warning was getting through. “I don’t want to scare you, but this isn’t a game. I don’t know what’ll happen when I get there, and I can’t be sure I can take care of you. You could die, Adora. Do you have an answer for—”

There was a pinch near her waist, and prickling hotness shot across her entire body, bubbling under her skin. Words died in her throat and she swayed, not sure if she was moving or if the floor was. She tried to take a step but her legs were rigid, frozen despite the uncomfortable hotness flowing through her blood. Her body locked into place, and Adora grabbed her before she could fall. 

Adora tilted Catra’s body forward and tried to balance her on her feet, but Catra started to tilt over. She propped Catra up against the Skiff instead and stood back, twitching nervously. Catra would have glared at her if she could move her face. 

“Um.” Adora held up something tiny with tiny glowing runes on its back. They were barely bright enough for Catra to make out the vague shape of a Beetle. “It’s a kind of magic,” Adora continued, “where I can make a normal thing do a magic thing if something is connecting the normal thing and magic thing together. Since bugs sting people, I made a toy beetle that can, like…” she nervously trailed off and gestured at Catra. “That,” she finished. “Yeah. And I’ve got tons of other stuff like this, like a rope that can be as long as I want, and glasses that let me see anything, and these breath mints that—” 

Catra tried to growl at the girl, but all that came out with a vaguely annoyed grumble. Looking concerned, Adora reached over and shifted Catra’s body again, trying to make sure the Princess was comfortable. Catra realized with some amazement that Adora had been more at ease being threatened than when she was being threatening.

“Right,” Adora said. “That’s… probably not the point.” She brushed some stray hairs out of her face and then clasped her hands together. “Okay. My whole life I’ve had a plan and… I wasn’t… good at the plan. But there was a plan, and as long as all I had to do was work harder, and everything would be fine. But now—”

She moved beside Catra, leaning on the Skiff with her. She’d forgotten Catra couldn't see her, but she sounded tired. “Now,” Adora said, “I’m getting that I didn’t even know what the plan was. I just let people make me do things, and I don’t know what any of it means. So I have to find out, and I have to be the one that finds out.*

Catra tried to speak again, not getting out more than a squeak. Adora poked her with the beetle again, and Catra gasped as the warm pressure holding her still disappeared. She coughed and shook her head. “Listen,” Catra said, “You have no idea what you’re going to find. Are you sure you want to look?”

Adora looked away, staring at the Moons outside. Slowly, she said, “I don’t know what’s true and what’s not. But I know people could have died today, and I know this all has something to do with me. So I have to find answers before more people get hurt.”

"Okay."

The word surprised Catra as they left her mouth, but it made sense. She didn't have a way of dealing with magic and Adora's gadgets could be the key. And…

And the look on her face. 

It was determined, it was brave, it was lying because Adora was scared out of her mind, and she'd still listened to Catra instead of stunning her. There was this, this passion under her fear that—

Ugh, how gay am I?

She squared her shoulder and faced Adora, speaking in a clear, unflustered manner because she wasn't a teenager with a crush, she was a badass. "Stow your backpack in the Skiff," she said, unflusteredly and in a badass manner. "I'm driving."

Adora, missing the part where Catra was an unflusterable badass, beamed and pulled her into a hug. "I won't let you down!" She exclaimed. 

Catra stood, frozen.

Adora gasped and took a step back. "I'm so sorry, your highness! Um…" She tried a salute, thought better, changed it to a bow from the waist, briefly considered kneeling, and finally tried to compromise on all three at once. 

Catra stood, frozen.

Adora looked from the pretzelesque shape she'd forced her body into and asked, worried, "Your highness? Am I doing this wrong?"

Catra blinked and looked away. "No. Well, yes, but… just call me Catra."

Adora nodded firmly and hopped to her feet. "Yes, your… Catra. Ness." She winced and spun around, marching to the other side of the skiff and getting on. Catra hesitated for just a moment before following suit.

Adora's an idiot, she thought as she ignited the engines. If I don't take care of her, she'll get herself hurt.

It wasn't because Catra liked her.