They made it to the springs with Trent close in tow. Just as all of them dashed through the door, one of Yura's legs smashed through the thatched roofing over the baths like an enormous spear. Trent shouted and all three of them scattered. Another of Yura's sharp feet tore through the dividing wall with the women's baths. Suna looked around frantically — for the Slayers, for a wall to brace against, for the Dusting Force hose that they so desperately needed — but it was hard to see through all the steam ejecting from Yura's body, and the heat made their eyes sting. They stumbled forward, blindly, and slipped on the damp obsidian floor. Yura stomped again before Suna could catch their balance; they tripped over the lip of one of the baths and crashed into ice cold water.

The coldwater pool, they realized, breaking the surface. They wheezed, their chest going tight from the sharp change in temperature. Coughing, caught sight of Yura looming overhead and they scrambled backwards, pressing themself against the wall of the pool, just in time to avoid one of Yura's spearing legs. Over them, it made a screaming noise as its leg splashed into the cold water. It recoiled, waving Keiba's limp form around in a rage.

Suna's heart raced with fear for Keiba — but also a new sense of hope flooded them. Yura didn't like the cold. 

They lurched out of the pool with a splash, catching sight of Trent and Wynona as a bit of the steam dissipated. They were both pressed up against the back wall of the baths, near the spigot and the Dusting Force hose. Suna darted to them, slipping and ducking to avoid Yura's flailing legs.

Wynona and Trent both stood rooted to the floor as Suna got to them. They watched Yura with awed, helpless expressions, like they'd totally given up on stopping it and had just submitted to their fear. Suna wondered how they'd even gotten to be Slayers. 

"I have a plan," they gasped, determined to lead if no one else would. 

Wynona seemed to snap back to herself, looking at Suna with a wild, panicked expression. "What plan?!" 

Suna lugged the Dusting Force hose up onto their shoulder. "We need to use this to spray it with the cold water. C'mon, I need your help!" 

Both Wynona and Trent did seem able to lurch into action, at least; Suna was grateful for that. They uncoiled the loose end of the hose and handed it to Trent. 

"Get this in the coldwater pool," they said. "And then help me lift the rest of it." 

Trent took the end of the hose and did as he was told, darting as fast as he could manage despite Yura's kicking and stomping, to the cold bath. The hose uncoiled as he ran, and Suna turned to Wynona. 

"I need your help too," they said. "You have to — can you use magic to pump the water through the hose?" 

Wynona looked a little surprised at the mention of magic, but she set her mouth in a determined line and nodded. "Yeah," she said, looking less afraid and more fierce all of a sudden. "I can definitely do that." 

A small light of triumph flickered in Suna's chest. Then one of Yura's sharp feet came down so hard that it cracked the obsidian decking. Suna and Wynona both stumbled, but Suna wasn't going to give up now. 

"C'mon!" they insisted, stumbling for the coldwater pool. 

Wynona followed, the both of them nearly having to crawl the last bit of the way there because of how Yura was making the ground shake. When they made it, Trent gave Suna a desperate look, the whites of his eyes showing with panic. 

"What are we doing?!" he called. 

"Don't worry," Suna insisted. "Just help me lift the hose!"

Wynona laid on her belly, reaching her arms over the lip to get her hand into the water, a blue light flickering to life in her palms. Trent at least didn't ask any more questions. He bent and helped  Suna hoist the heavy length of hosing. Together, they held it,  Suna at the front, with the nozzle, and Trent behind them.

Yura whirled, searching for them, and Suna aimed the nozzle for its vicious, clicking mouthparts.

"Wynona, now!" Suna shouted.

There was a great, sucking sound in the pool as the water suddenly funneled into the hose — and then gushed through the nozzle with such force that Suna staggered for a moment before regaining their balance. They righted themselves, aiming for Yura's mouthparts again and the rushing gout of water caught the monster dead-on. It reeled back, enormous blasts of hot steam streaming from its carapace. It screamed and clicked again, waving its claws. Suna could see Keiba's body, fragile and soft, rattling around like a weightless toy against the backdrop of the starry sky. They weren't going to let her get hurt!

But their arms trembled from the effort of holding the hose. Yura shrieked, lunging towards them, and they gritted their teeth, trying to aim for the vents in its carapace — the only other vulnerable part of its body, as far as they could tell.

"Let me help!" Trent shouted.

He moved up the hose to help Suna hold the nozzle. Together, they lurched it higher, icy water shooting into Yura's eyes and splattering all over the top of its carapace. The vents in its shell flared red and yellow and red again, like a frantic pulse. With Trent's help, Suna re-aimed for one of those vents.

The water landed with a hiss, and Yura screamed, its legs buckling underneath it. The vent's glow extinguished, and steam pumped in a huge, volcanic rush from the narrow space where its top carapace met its lower shell, and from the joints of its failing legs, and from its helpless, screaming mouth. A giddy sense of success rushed through Suna's whole body. 

With Trent's help, they aimed for a second vent. Yura's screaming piqued, and then garbled into nothing, this second vent going dark. The steam blasting from its body thinned out into nothing, and the monster slumped to the obsidian ground with a crash. The claw that held Keiba slammed into one of the other springs. Wynona lurched out of her own pool. She scrambled to grab Keiba, hauling her out of the water before it could burn her. The powerful stream of water from the hose died down to nothing without the help of Wynona's magic.

Suna, shaking, looked from Yura's giant, fallen form, to Wynona, where she laid on the black floor with Keiba, coughing, and then back again. All of Yura's other vents had gone dark and its black eyes glistened, lifelessly, in the weak light of the moon. 

For a brief moment, Suna almost felt sorry for the creature. It hadn't really done anything wrong, they thought. It had kept their springs warm — which, no matter how much Suna hated the baths, felt like a gift more than anything else.

Trent's voice snapped them out of their reverie.

"Wyn," he said, stumbling over to his friend. "Are you okay?"

Wynona gave him a shaky thumbs up.

Suna set the hose down. Cautiously, they walked up to the crumpled Yura. Up close, they could see that its black eyes had iced over. They touched its shell and were startled to find that it was as cold as ice.

"It's dead," they breathed. They'd suspected as much, but it felt a little strange to confirm it. Still, they felt weak with relief.

"That was a hell of a plan, kid," Wynona wheezed, sitting up.

Suna's face flushed a little bit as they looked around at the wreckage. They weren't sure praise was in order; it was just a fact that something had to be done. Whether it was malicious or not, Yura probably would have destroyed the village if they hadn't stopped it.

"Keiba!"

Suna, Trent, and Wynona all turned to what had formerly been the wall separating the baths from the path down to the courtyard. Amidst the rubble, Zale stood with a lantern flashlight held high. A small crowd of townspeople clustered in behind him, their eyes wide in the lamp light. All of Suna's sense of accomplishment drained out of them as they realized how this must look to everyone else. Like three kids who had gotten into trouble — and wrecked the village's most prized landmark.

On a reflex, they shrank away from the glow of Zale's light, but no one really seemed to notice or care about them. Instead, two Black Susans broke from the crowd to get to Keiba.

"Is she dead?" one gasped.

Wynona shook her head, her hair dripping. "No, but—"

The Black Susan leaned over Keiba, pinching her nose and breathing into her mouth. Then she pressed both hands to the center of Keiba's chest and pumped ten times. She repeated the action in the quiet until, abruptly, Keiba lurched, coughing up water. Zale looked like he might cry with relief. Suna shared that feeling, in truth. Until just this moment, they hadn't stopped to wonder if Keiba would wake up again. But her eyes opened as the coughing passed, and the two Black Susans helped her to her feet.

"Easy," one of the women said. "Are you okay?"

Keiba grimaced. "Sore. And dizzy," she said. "But I don't think anything's broken."

Suna was so glad. They wanted to edge a bit closer, just to see Keiba and be sure, but a new voice cracked through the air, and any peace Suna might have felt evaporated instantly.

"Suna!" Their mother pushed to the front of the crowd. 

The thinning steam curled around her legs as she rushed to them. Suna did their best not to cringe away like a guilty person.

"Don't say anything," they whispered to Trent and Wynona as their mother approached.

She stumbled to a stop, falling to her knees and grabbing Suna by the shoulders.

"Suna, oh my god. What are you doing here? We were looking for you—"

Their father materialized out of the steam as well, followed by two members of the Dusting Force. Their mother looked like she was about to cry. Suna wanted to back away. They had no good answer for her, and not having a good answer meant that she was going to go from worried to upset, which was the last thing Suna wanted. Having an argument in front of all these people would be so embarrassing. 

"I…got lost," they winced.

"Lost? Suna, don't lie to me, you were in your room! Why did you— Why would you—" Their mother's voice broke and she pulled them into a crushing hug, her body trembling with a sob. "God, I was so scared. Do you know how much you scared me?"

"Um, ma'am?" Wynona interrupted softly.

Suna could have kicked her, except their mother was still holding them too tightly. They didn't need to, it turned out. Trent gave her a smack on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Suna rushed, trying to keep their mother's attention.

But it was too late. Their mother let Suna go, got to her feet, and turned to the two Slayers, glaring through her tears.

"You two!" she snapped. "How did she even end up with you?" Her voice rose, sharply, as she listed out her accusations. "I bet it didn't even occur to you to bring her straight home when you found her — typical Slayers! Never thinking of the good of the people. She's a child, she should be home with her family! What's wrong with you?"

Wynona and Trent shrank away, slightly. Before either of them could answer — not that their answers would satisfy Suna's mother, Suna was sure — a new figure approached the front of the crowd. The older Slayer! Looking cold and stern.

"What is going on here?" he asked, his voice flat.

Suna's mother whirled on him. "Your two little minions almost got my daughter killed," she said, her eyes hot with rage.

Loch shot a dark glare at Wynona and Trent.

"It wasn't their fault," a voice rasped.

Keiba, still supported by one of the Black Susans, gazed at Suna's mother, and then at the rest of the townspeople. She looked haggard from her ordeal, but her voice was firm. Her eyes landed on the older Slayer as she spoke again:

"Your subordinates, and this child, saved me. When I arrived, they tried to warn me about that creature — and then the monster attacked me. They stopped that beast all by themselves. I owe them my life, as do you all."

The townspeople grumbled amongst each other. A few of them glanced at Yura's corpse, enormous and strange as it was among the wreckage of the baths.

"The Slayers saved Suna from that?" their mother breathed, looking at the giant crab.

"Well. All three of them saved me," Keiba corrected.

Suna wasn't sure if they should hope that things would turn out all right. Keiba's word counted for a lot, but their parents still looked bewildered. Suna held their breath, watching them look around. Then their mother looked back to the Slayers, her expression softening into something approaching sheepishness. 

“I’m sorry for shouting,” she said to them, reaching for Suna’s hand. “You protected her.”

No, Suna thought, suddenly angry. The Slayers hadn’t protected anyone! Suna had protected them. They opened their mouth to argue, but their father edged just a few steps closer to the cold crab carcass.

"What…is that thing?" their father asked.

Keiba looked both of Suna's parents up and down, and then turned her gaze back to the crowd of townspeople.

"That," she said, "was Yura."