These Rebel Waves

“And if you died,” Vex continued, walking beside Lu, “I’d be stuck with Teo. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great kid, but I don’t much want to add a six-year-old to my crew.”

  “I get it,” Lu said. But she smiled. “It would be a horrible inconvenience to you if I died.”

  “Glad we understand each other.”

  The Schilly wove on after the falls, curving around and linking up with the Leto River. The Rapid Meander had already docked at the bend, lights dimmed so anyone else would miss it.

  Lu hopped aboard, followed by Nayeli and Vex. “Teo?” she whispered as she moved toward the pilothouse. “It’s all right—”

  A lantern flared to life on the map table.

  Lu ripped a knife out of her holster. The woman near the lantern had a pistol on one hip, a sword on the other, and a brand on her wrist. Her short black hair draped around her face, revealing a mark on her neck: four dots, two vertical above two horizontal. A Tuncian tattoo.

  “You thought you’d outsmart me in my own territory?” The woman clucked her tongue, golden-tan skin glowing in the lantern’s yellow light.

  Adrenaline surged into Lu’s veins. “Who are you? Where’s Teo?”

  “Lu.” Vex’s voice behind her was flat. “This is Cansu Darzi.”

  Cansu cut a harsh grin. “The boy is safely on his way to Port Mesi-Teab with my raiders. Which is where you were headed, weren’t you, Nay? You know Fatemah doesn’t like outsiders. But I should have expected as much—you don’t give a damn about what we want.”

  Lu threw an accusatory glare, but in the lantern’s jerky light, the expression on Nayeli’s face was sorrowful.

  Whatever was happening was exactly what Nayeli had feared.

  “What’s going on? Who’s Fatemah?” Lu demanded.

  “Fatemah is Nayeli’s aunt,” Vex said with a sigh. “The woman we were going to see. The Tuncian syndicate’s magic expert.”

  15

  WELL, THIS HAD unraveled quickly.

  “Did you think we were maybe trying to avoid confrontation?” Vex asked Cansu as he steered down the river. He kept his focus on the shadowed bow of the Meander and the hunched shape of Lu, probably glaring at him. Nayeli had stayed on deck only as long as it took to announce that she’d oversee the engine in Edda’s stead.

  Vex could feel the tension radiating off Nayeli. When she exploded this time, it wouldn’t be with curses. She’d be quiet and sulking and damn heartbreaking, and Vex clenched his fists on the helm to keep himself from punching Cansu. She’d probably drop him to the deck before he could even land a blow, and Nayeli wouldn’t want him to assault her anyway.

  “You can’t slip in and out of my territory whenever you want.” Cansu’s voice came from behind him, where she sat on the table. “I don’t need you mucking stuff up like you usually do.”

  “I don’t steal from you,” Vex hissed. “Nayeli won’t let me.”

  Cansu grabbed onto that. “She doesn’t deserve your protection.”

  “The fact you can say that proves she was right to leave. She’s part of you, Cansu. I mean, god, she jumped off a cliff to avoid seeing you—there’re some strong feelings still.”

  Nayeli would kill him if she knew he’d said that. No, castrate him, then kill him.

  Cansu darkened. “It doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have come here. I don’t need your distractions, not now.”

  Vex eyed her. “Why not now?”

  Cansu shot him a derisive look. “Gods, you were in the Council’s dungeon; don’t tell me you didn’t hear what’s going on. They’ve created a bill to wipe us out. One of the Argridian delegates vanished three days ago, and they think we abducted him, of course. You saw the security at the falls? It’s that way everywhere—the Council didn’t waste any time bowing down to Argrid’s call to turn on us. Tell me why the hell you need to see Fatemah. It’d better be important. We’ve got too much to worry about otherwise.”

  Vex felt a twinge deep in his gut. He’d suspected that was why things were getting worse, but having her confirm it was almost more than he could handle.

  He nodded at Lu. “She hired me to help with something so the Council doesn’t—”

  Cansu shot off the map table. Vex flinched. Shit.

  “You aren’t stupid enough to bring a Grace Lorayan to my territory. For help.”

  “Let Fatemah decide who gets help,” Vex said. “That was the deal, right? You run the syndicate, Fatemah manages the needy, and Nayeli gets battered by your emotional warfare.”

  Cansu opened her mouth, so Vex said what he knew would shut her up.

  “You aren’t the one who has to pick up the pieces every time you hurt Nayeli.” He looked back at Cansu. “If you love her like I know you do, you’ll let us do our business and leave. Peacefully.”

  Cansu slumped back against the table. Moments like these clashed with her raider Head guise, making it impossible for Vex to be intimidated by her.

  But everyone had weaknesses. The one thing that no matter how deeply buried would send them to their knees.

  “Just drive,” Cansu mumbled.

  Vex faced forward. “With pleasure.”

  As the Rapid Meander sped into the night, Lu paced from the bow to the pilothouse and back. Were they Cansu’s prisoners now—was Teo? Were they going to see Fatemah? Should they tell Cansu their mission? Surely she would understand the importance of finding Milo.

  But every time Lu gathered the gumption to storm into the pilothouse, she saw Cansu glowering at her with eyes like fire and blood.

  Lu paced back to the bow.

  After sunrise, the Rapid Meander joined up with other boats chugging toward the bustle and hum of Grace Loray’s largest southeastern city: Port Mesi-Teab.

  Like the other four main ports on Grace Loray, it could trace its origins to an immigrant settlement—in this case, a group of Tuncians had founded the city when they’d settled in Grace Loray centuries ago. It sat at the confluence of the Leto and the Draydis Rivers, just above the southern swamplands. With the sun lifting behind the city, the port’s iconic skyline took Lu’s breath away: an old Argridian fort of walled gray stone at the divide between the two rivers. The wall that faced up the Leto bore the Church’s symbol, a monstrous section of white stones in a curved V.

  “Fort Chastity,” said a voice beside her. Lu flinched but didn’t move from where she leaned against the exterior of the pilothouse. Cansu, halfway out the door, folded her arms. “The last thing some Tuncians saw on this island. At least it was a pretty view.”

  “Why is it still standing?” Lu asked. She had never spent much time in Port Mesi-Teab, but in other cities, citizens had been quick to dismantle or repurpose anything that had been used by Argrid. Seeing the Church’s symbol unscathed was rare.

  “To remind us,” Cansu said. “The Argridians named it Chastity because they labeled Tuncians whores for having four gods and not worshipping their one. Every time we see it, we remember where we came from and who we are, and how no one can take that from us.”

  Vex, at the helm, let out a sharp whistle. “Stand down, Cansu. We’re almost there.”

  Cansu gave Lu a cold smile and ducked back into the pilothouse.

  Lu’s grandmother—Kari’s mother—had been Tuncian. Lu had only vague memories of her—the war had taken Kari’s parents early. And with bloodshed and cannon fire a too-regular part of life, Kari hadn’t been able to pass down the culture of her history. Family traditions became as rare as sugar—delicious when they had it, but not crucial to their survival, and as the war dragged on, Kari told Lu less and less.

  Lu knew general things about Tuncians. The four-dot tattoo some of them wore as homages to their gods; certain recipes Kari made on occasion, a sweet bean pastry for birthdays or a breakfast dish packed with spices that lingered in Lu’s nose for days after. But Lu didn’t consider herself Tuncian, as much as she didn’t think about her Argridian heritage from Tom. She was Grace Lorayan.

  Lu’s head began to throb. She
blamed sleeplessness, and focused on staying alert as the Meander followed the Leto along the southern stretch of Port Mesi-Teab.

  Dozens of docks stretched around Fort Chastity, hosting a variety of vessels in the dawn’s mist. A few patrol boats were stationed in the widest part of the river, where it forked in two, keeping watch over early-morning extractions as crews lowered diving bells into the water and hauled up plants. Shadows from Fort Chastity darkened the river, and more shadows continued in patchy sections as the fort ended and the haphazard city buildings began.

  Smaller tributaries of the Leto snaked into the port just like the rivers that made a spiderweb through New Deza. But as Vex steered the Meander into one of them, the difference became clear: where New Deza’s rivers were mostly clean, lined by well-kept stones and ducking beneath arched bridges, these waters ran brown, the color growing darker the farther into the city they went. What bridges they passed under were wooden and decrepit, the banks sliding off in wet chunks. People sat along the water regardless, fishing rods dipped into the surface.

  Lu had heard of such poverty in New Deza. If the raiders would submit to Grace Loray’s governing, councilmembers said, things would improve for them. But Council funds will not support defiant anarchists.

  But was every soul suffering under these conditions a raider who refused to acknowledge the Council’s sovereignty? Even so—did it matter? They were citizens. They were here.

  Lu swallowed the foul air, the throbbing in her head growing more potent.

  The Rapid Meander wove into Port Mesi-Teab until they saw the tangle of jungle that fought the back wall of the city. Buildings in cramped blocks let the barest hints of sunlight through, trapping bitter air in narrow, dirty streets. When they were so far from the Leto that Lu wasn’t sure she could find her way back to it, Vex let the Meander drift to a stop against a dock.

  Cansu left the pilothouse, followed by Vex. After a beat, Nayeli emerged from belowdecks, but she didn’t make eye contact with anyone.

  “Your people should be within,” Cansu told Vex. Her voice was softer, or tired.

  Lu searched the buildings for the one Cansu meant. But the streets were nearly empty, save for a stumbling beggar or two. Faces peeked from windows behind holey curtains; shadows wavered as people watched them from doorways. Silence clouded the boats that drifted past, manned by crews with gaunt, watchful faces.

  The jolt of recognition was as unpleasant as the air. This was how every port had been during the war: filled with dread, people hiding in fear of Argridians snatching them up for cleansing.

  The boat jerked, followed by the thump of boots hitting the ground. Cansu walked off down a road. For all her worries about escorting them in, she was leaving now?

  She hadn’t intercepted them for the escort, then. She was saying, This is my territory.

  Nayeli jumped off the boat without a word, trailing Cansu into the port.

  “Nayeli is from Cansu’s syndicate,” Lu guessed. “She left to join your crew.”

  Vex gave a grunt that could have been a laugh. “If only it were that simple.”

  The boat teetered, the mud on the starboard side sucking against Vex’s boots. Lu plopped on his right side, and the thud of her next to him sent him rocking back. She grabbed his wrist to steady him and felt a shiver rush up his arm before he jerked away.

  “Blind on this side,” Vex snapped, waving his hand on the side of his head.

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Come on,” Vex said, irritated. “It isn’t far.”

  He started after Nayeli and Cansu. Lu followed, unable to tolerate the tension in Vex’s corded shoulders. She had affronted him—and she hated that she not only realized, but cared.

  He turned a corner, and as she hurried after him, she steeled herself to apologize—

  But Cansu stood on the road, facing them, holding a sack.

  Vex put his hands out. “This isn’t necessary.”

  “It’s always necessary for people we don’t trust.”

  “I trust her,” Vex returned, and Lu knew shock showed on her face. “She won’t tell anyone. Will you, Lu?”

  “Tell anyone what?”

  Nayeli crossed her arms, sighed softly. “Wear the bag. It’s easier.”

  Lu’s mouth dropped open. Wherever they were going, Cansu didn’t want her to know how to find it. A secret raider lair, no doubt.

  “Teo’s there?” Lu demanded. “Where you’re taking me. He’ll be there?”

  Cansu bowed. “Safe as can be, on my honor as the Tuncian raider Head.”

  Lu’s focus went to Vex. “And this place,” she said, “is where we need to go.”

  Vex popped a shoulder. “Fatemah hears everything that happens on this island.”

  Lu snatched the bag from Cansu. She tugged it over her own head, blocking out what depressing daylight there had been, and held out an arm.

  “Let’s go.”

  Fingers clasped one of her elbows, guiding her, and all Lu had to identify their location was the ground beneath her boots. The squishy mud of the road; hard thumping floorboards; squishy mud again. They were leading her in circles, she guessed, to make it harder for her to find her way, but she didn’t care. Let her be with Teo; let whatever help the Tuncians could give in finding Milo be given. Let this be over.

  After at least an hour of trudging through the port, someone—Nayeli?—hissed in warning.

  “Soldiers,” whispered a voice next to her. Lu started to realize it was Vex holding her elbow, not Cansu. But muffled, gruff orders and the crash of a window made her tip her head, straining to hear more.

  “What are they doing?” She reached for the edge of the sack. “I can—”

  “Remove that sack and I’ll leave you here,” Cansu snapped ahead of her.

  Beyond their hiding place—an alley, maybe—someone shrieked, “We don’t know anything! We aren’t involved!”

  Another crash of glass breaking. “Bad enough you stink up our cities, but now you raiders stir up trouble with Argrid—do us a favor and get off our island!”

  A chorus of cheers followed. Lu swayed, disoriented.

  “Who is that?” she whispered. “We have to help—”

  “My people will deal with the Grace Lorayans,” Cansu said. “We’ll have to go a different way.”

  A battle cry came from a different source, and sure enough, someone cried, “Tuncian raiders!” and the distinct clash and bang of hand-to-hand combat echoed.

  Vex pulled Lu away as the chaos behind them intensified, shouts and swords chiming.

  “Those couldn’t be Grace Lorayans,” Lu breathed. “It isn’t like this—”

  “Like it was at the docking station?” Lu couldn’t see Vex, but she heard the dare in his voice. “Tensions with Grace Lorayans—especially soldiers—are usually high. But no. It isn’t always this strained.”

  His grip on her tightened, and his final words weighed heavy. He was trying to get her to realize something, as he had at the falls.

  But she had already realized it. She was on this journey because she had foreseen this outcome from the start: Grace Loray at war again.

  She felt the depth of it now. The true divide in where the conflict would originate.

  “That’s why the place we’re going still exists,” came Cansu’s voice. “Thought we’d be able to shut down the sanctuary after the war, but turns out we traded one tyrant for another.”

  Lu had no argument. Just that ache in her head that would not go away.

  Once again, floorboards thudded under their boots. A staircase led down, a door creaked open, and they stopped.

  The sack was yanked off Lu’s head and she blinked in hazy light. A yard stretched before her, enclosed by looming buildings on three sides and the wall of the city on the fourth, complete with tangled vines and branches trying to crawl over the top. Hovels filled the area, interspersed with campfires, lines hung with laundry, and stacks of barrels.

  And people. Dozens of
people, kneeling over those fires or hanging that laundry, men, women, and children. Dirt smudged each face; every outfit was in tatters. Some rested on mats, their bodies quaking with tremors Lu knew too well. Shaking Sickness.

  Everyone was Tuncian, as the language Lu heard was not the Grace Loray dialect or Argridian. What had Vex called it? Thuti?

  But a voice brought her out of her shock and confusion. “Lu!”

  She shot forward, and Cansu didn’t stop her. Not that anyone could have—the moment Lu saw Teo racing up a dirt path toward her, she forgot all else. He was grinning, and he didn’t look harmed or mistreated.

  He locked his arms around Lu’s neck, grip clamping and choking, but Lu didn’t care as she scooped him up just as strongly.

  “Are you all right?” Lu shifted to look at him. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine! Edda took real good care of me. She made the raiders get me a type of candy—I don’t remember the name—but it was so sweet! Like those pastries you got me and Annalisa, remember? Like that! You have to try it! Come on!”

  Teo wiggled until she set him down, and he took off again. Edda, coming up the road behind him, caught him, and the two headed back to wherever they had been.

  Lu looked at the crowd. Those who had been doing chores stopped, giving her wide berth while they stared. Lu felt, standing in the middle of them, the full weight of everything she had begun realizing.

  Lu had known her country. She had spent the bulk of her life fighting to better it.

  But all that fighting hadn’t changed anything.

  The Council had brought peace to Grace Loray—but the old traps of prejudice and disunity were in place for the island to disintegrate again just as it had under Argrid.

  Vex broke free of the crowd. “They aren’t the best at welcomes,” he told her.

  She stretched taller despite the growing pressure to buckle. “What is this place?”

  “A place of sanctuary,” someone else said. “A place of transition.”

  The crowd parted for a short, intense woman with graying black hair so long it served almost as a cloak around her knotted dress. She had a tattoo identical to Cansu’s, the Tuncian mark of their gods, though hers sat delicately across her round nose. She stopped, looking up with annoyed, dissatisfied eyes that made both those emotions seem like Lu’s fault.