These Rebel Waves
As darkness fell, soldiers stormed the building, yanking Annalisa and Lu from their sleep. Lu shoved Annalisa under the bed first, closest to the wall. There they listened to the crash of swords and the pop of rifles, Annalisa weeping against Lu’s back, Lu watching the floor from beneath the fluttering of the bed’s lace-edged quilt.
As booted feet stomped into the room, Annalisa muffled a sob, but not enough—soldiers, driven by bloodlust, yanked Lu out from under the bed, threw her across the room, and shot at her.
Until a commander entered, furious that the documents they had found were only common maps of the island. They needed information; they needed to know the locations of the other headquarters, plans for attacks, or the names of spies hidden within the Argridian ranks.
“Keep her alive,” he’d said. “She’s our only hope for this mission’s success.”
The soldiers’ desperation had shown in their bloodshot eyes and the commander’s ragged voice as a small group of them took Lu into the main room. The war had not been kind to Argrid over the past months—this was their chance to turn the tide.
To keep her awake, the Argridians gave her far more Awacia than anyone should take. When none of their methods made her talk, they gave her Croxy, a rage-inducing plant, and let her thrash and scream and pray her heart didn’t rupture.
When that did nothing, they gave her a single dose of Lazonade so she couldn’t fight back, couldn’t speak. She could only watch, a prisoner in her own body, and by that time the commander didn’t care what information they got from her. He only wanted her to suffer, because a child had made him look a fool in front of his men.
Lu came back, her body pinned to the wall of the Rapid Meander, the croaking of frogs reminding her that they were far from that overrun, hellish headquarters. But her eyes stayed on Vex, the whole of the pilothouse between them.
His lips parted. “Adeluna,” he said, an offering.
She sank to the floor, knees to her chest, hands flat on the wood.
Lu had never told anyone what the Argridians did to her. Tom and Kari found her, the effects of Lazonade keeping her immobile, and Tom took her into his arms while Kari made quick work of the Argridian soldiers they had caught. The rest had fled and would join their fellows in surrender by morning. But voices carried from the room where the revolutionaries held the prisoners—
“They surrendered, Kari! You can’t kill them!”
“Trust me” came her mother’s iron response. “I won’t.”
Lu only spoke hours later. She asked for the book that had saved her life, and read it cover to cover.
The Lazonade wore off, but the Awacia, the Croxy—those she felt for days after. A constant need to move and go and escape that she had attributed to the high doses of magic the Argridians had given her. She took the counter plants to purge her system, as outlined in Botanical Wonders: Drooping Fern, to combat the Awacia; Narcotium Creeper, for the Croxy.
Now a raider sat across from her, knowing what would destroy her. All he had to do was threaten her with Lazonade as the Mechts had.
Tears crested on Lu’s rising tide of self-hatred, that she could be so easily undone.
“How do you know this?” She regained herself. “What does it have to do with Argrid? With Milo?”
What did it have to do with Argrid?
Everything.
Vex slid to the ground across from Lu. He couldn’t stand while he told her this.
“I made it my business to learn every move Argrid made,” he started. “Especially when it involved torturing people with botanical magic.”
Vex flexed one of his hands. Dread filled his whole body, but he forced himself to move before he could reconsider:
He lifted his hand and held it straight out. God, he was always so careful, keeping tight control on every damn muscle in every damn limb. But he let go, and his arm started to shake, convulsions that ricocheted to his neck, down his torso.
He looked from his hand to Lu. She stared, recognition clear on her face.
“You have Shaking Sickness,” she breathed.
“I found myself a victim of the Argridian king’s torture, same as you,” Vex said, curling his hand to his chest. But he’d set off a chain of shaking with that demonstration, and shudders came, wave after wave. He’d learned to hide it, working against each one with precision, a flex of his jaw, a shift of his shoulders. “I was about as young, too, and strong. I became a subject in Elazar’s experiments.”
Lu’s mouth opened.
“He has his soldiers force magic on people.” Vex kept talking, eye on the floor. “Vials of plants, clouds of fumes, everything, so much that by the end you can’t remember what you were given. They tell you that it’s for the Pious God. That it’s to find holiness in impurity.”
Vex met Lu’s eyes again, though it killed him, as though he’d flayed himself raw and her gaze was salt water.
“Afterward, they give most subjects the memory-erasing plant Menesia. Make them forget it happened at all,” he said. “But I got branded and shoved back out into the world, knowing what would kill me.”
“Kill you?” Lu asked.
Vex paused, letting her think it through.
“That was what gave you Shaking Sickness,” Lu panted, rising onto her knees. “The magic.”
“Elazar lets a few people go without Menesia,” Vex continued, worrying at the mark on his right hand. “And either blackmails them with their own impending death or threatens to give their families Shaking Sickness if they don’t do what he says. They look for the cure on their own, but listen when his lackeys come calling in case Elazar finds the cure first.”
Vex stopped. So much was left in him, and he felt too close to vomiting everything here in the pilothouse. Besides, he had to know what Lu’s reaction would be. She’d seen his scar on the deck and given him that surge of sympathy, and goddamn it, he would not spend the rest of whatever time they had together with her treating him like he was weak and damaged.
If she changed, started treating him all, well, nice, he’d drop her off at the next port like she wanted. He didn’t need her on his crew.
Why had he told her? He knew she’d already given in to pity once. What did he want to happen here?
His breath locked in his lungs, Vex waited, and hoped.
The Rapid Meander bobbed in the current of the swamp. But Lu felt unsteady beyond that, her body a buoy in a sea of information.
Annalisa and her mother, Bianca, had been immigrants from Argrid. The two of them had died from Shaking Sickness while Teo, born in Grace Loray, had never exhibited any signs of the illness.
The cause of the disease had always been untraceable and incurable by healing plants. The symptoms showed up intermittently and unpredictably. The victims or their healers could never pin down a cause—because most people couldn’t recall Elazar’s men testing on them.
Lu saw Annalisa, strapped to her filthy infirmary bed.
She saw Elazar, a faceless king from a murderous land, raking a knife across her throat.
“What does Elazar want?” Lu asked.
Vex cocked a sad smile. “He claims the Church is trying to find purity in our evil magic. He wants to make the effects of useful botanical plants permanent so he can have an unstoppable military to back the Church. His soldiers wouldn’t have to find more plants or retake doses—they’d be perfectly strong, heal instantly, fight without tiring, and so on.”
Lu buckled, bracing herself on the floor. “That was why the Mechts had stockpiles of plants,” she said. “To support Elazar.”
Argrid’s king had made the Mecht raiders abduct a diplomat to bring civil war and instability to Grace Loray. He wanted to weaken the island enough to retake it—but Argrid’s military remained small, even with a raider syndicate on their side. If the Council allied with the other three syndicates, as Lu hoped they would, Argrid would still be unable to hold the island.
That was why Lu had wanted to warn her parents—if the Co
uncil put aside their prejudices and harnessed the support of the Tuncian, Grozdan, and Emerdon raider syndicates, the united force would be enough to prevent an Argridian takeover.
But Elazar had foreseen that, too. He had guaranteed that the Council would be rife with hatred for raiders, and he had something else to tip the balance. Not just magic—the Council and raiders could counter that with their own—but permanent magic.
Once Elazar made magic permanent, he could dominate Grace Loray with an army of undefeatable, tireless killing machines. He was already on his way, according to Pilkvist. Which meant either he had found the way to make magic permanent, or he was close.
Lu refocused on another detail.
“Fatemah wasn’t able to cure Shaking Sickness?” she asked. “She has a knowledge of—”
“Healing plants don’t work,” Vex said. “Fatemah even tried a syrup of Cleanse Root.”
Lu frowned. “No. I meant, she hasn’t—”
Her eyes widened.
Fatemah hadn’t realized what would cure it. The whole island treated this condition as a disease. Lu had approached it as such too, because what else would it be?
“It isn’t a disease,” Lu mumbled, half to herself.
Shaking Sickness was a side effect of too much magic in a person’s body—and the most effective way to purge someone’s system? Taking the plants that neutralized the ones they had ingested. Even if it had been years since they had been tortured.
Lu had—unknowingly—cured herself of Shaking Sickness. At the time, she had taken the counter plants as prescribed by Botanical Wonders of the Grace Loray Colony because she had wanted to clean herself from the inside out. That had been mere days after the Argridians had tortured her, and the effects might not have needed to be as strong. But for anyone like Annalisa or Vex, who had been tortured an indeterminate amount of time ago . . .
Lu remembered Fatemah dissolving the Budwig Beans to concentrate them and increase their potency, a form never conceived of by the authors of Botanical Wonders.
And Lu knew the cure. She knew the cure for Shaking Sickness.
“You know,” Vex guessed, rolling forward onto his hands and knees. “You know what you did to keep yourself from getting Shaking Sickness, don’t you?”
She almost told him. But she bit down the explanation.
Vex was still working with Argrid.
Lu flew to her feet, resolve stomping out her sympathy. “You will drop Teo and me off at the next port,” she repeated from a lifetime ago. “We are done.”
They would return to the Council. Lu would alert her parents—without Vex.
Vex scrambled up as well. Surprise crossed his face, a shocked pleasure. She realized he’d been waiting for a reaction like her sympathy when she’d first seen his scar. But she hadn’t changed her demeanor toward him, and the relief on his face was undeniable.
“I’m not working for Argrid,” he promised, breathy and grateful. He cleared his throat, sobering. “I didn’t bring you along on this for Elazar, Lu—please—”
He grabbed her arm as she made to leave the pilothouse. She whipped her head back, glaring, and Vex released her.
“Lu, I lied to you. While a lot of it was because I don’t want to die, everything I’ve done since I got out of the Church’s prison has been to fight Argrid. They said they’d give Shaking Sickness to everyone I cared about if I didn’t do what they asked. But you have no idea how much I hate that country. What they did to me. What they took from me. If you believe nothing else, believe that I will do anything to see Elazar brought down.”
Lu curled her fingers into fists, her body half turned away from him.
“You think,” she started, “that I would help you with that?”
“You figured out the cure. You have the ear of Grace Loray’s Council. And you are quite self-sacrificing when it comes to protecting this island.” Lightness returned to Vex’s face, and he took a step toward her. “I was content to run from Argrid, but . . . this whole mission. You. It’s made me realize I can’t keep running. So, yeah. I’m asking for your help.”
Lu’s fists relaxed. “You should have told me all this,” she said. “From the beginning.”
He shrugged. “I’m not one to confess my secrets to crazed women who use manipulation to ensnare me in their own plots.”
Lu squared herself in front of Vex. “Can we at least agree now to trust each other?”
His smile went sly. “Does this mean you’re staying?”
The swamp air felt soggy in Lu’s lungs.
“Staying to get in my way, you mean.”
Cansu stood on the deck. Nayeli was behind her, and Edda—Lu had been so focused on Vex that she hadn’t noticed them come up. How much had they heard? Her gut sank, but she faced Cansu.
“You’re not still planning to attack the Council?”
Cansu looked away, and Lu latched onto her uncertainty with the ferocity of that crocodile coming after them.
“Say you do go to war with the Council,” Lu said. “The Tuncian syndicate attacks, and the Council finds out that the Mecht syndicate is allied with Argrid. Those two betrayals—two raider syndicates turned against them—will destroy any trust that might have existed between the Council and the syndicates, which is exactly what Argrid wants. Argrid will come, and while the Council is busy fighting all raiders, Argrid will destroy us with our own magic. That is the only outcome, Cansu.” Lu paused. “You know that after talking with Pilkvist. I saw you realize it.”
Cansu frowned. “I wanted this island to be ours. Free from oppressors. I don’t always get along with the other syndicates, but I thought they all wanted that freedom, too.” She paused. “But if Pilkvist sold us out to Argrid . . . and they’re coming in less than two weeks—”
“Two weeks?” Vex gagged. “Elazar’s heading here now?”
“Someone is.” Cansu shrugged. “Elazar, or another Argridian royal, or their whole damn fleet. Point is, the Mechts are giving our magic to Argrid. Whatever Elazar’s doing, his plan is already in motion, and I can’t . . .”
Nayeli pushed forward. “You can’t what?” she whispered, somehow still demanding.
Cansu kept her gaze on Lu. Calculations swam across her face, and Lu could tell she was weighing the strength of her raiders against the Mecht syndicate, the Council, and an Argridian army augmented by magic.
“I can’t fight them all,” she admitted.
Nayeli put her hand to her lips and stepped back, a falter that peeled away her hardness. Her face was that of someone who had been starving for years and found nourishment.
“You don’t want a war,” Cansu told Lu. “But it might be too late to stop it.”
Lu’s heart sank. She had been coming to that realization too.
The enormity of it loomed before her.
“What do we do?” Lu asked, half to herself. She had planned to make Milo atone, to make him prove that the fear Argrid had stoked between the Council and raiders was fake. Now that seemed useless. Even if all the factions on Grace Loray unified, would Argrid still be able to conquer them with magic? What would move the Council to action instead of debating blame and prejudices as tragedy lapped at their doorstep?
Again, her chest tugged with desire—she needed to talk to her parents. They would be able to help her piece together an effective plan.
“It isn’t too late,” Edda offered. “No matter who’s coming, Argrid isn’t here yet. I didn’t think the great Cansu was one to drop without throwing a punch.”
Cansu looked at Edda, amused. “I may not have the manpower to take down Pilkvist, but some of my raiders have mixed Tuncian and Mecht ancestries—they can pass enough as Mecht and buy their ways onto his crews to watch for shipments of plants or contact with Argrid. They can stop Pilkvist from doing whatever he’s supposed to be doing.”
“You want to discredit him with his Argridian contacts,” Nayeli expanded. “They’ll turn on him, and it’ll cut off whatever Elazar was using Pilkvi
st for.”
Cansu nodded.
“I’ll do it,” Nayeli said, bouncing. “I’ll buy my way onto one of his crews.”
“You were in Pilkvist’s prison,” Lu countered. “His raiders could recognize you. And you don’t look the least bit Mecht.”
Nayeli gave her a furious glare.
Edda cut in. “She’s right, Nay. But I certainly look Mecht enough. I’ll do it.”
Lu shook her head. “They could recognize you too—”
“If they do, let ’em try to do something. I’ll love getting to knock around the people who sullied my country by allying with Argrid.”
Nayeli giggled wickedly.
Cansu’s raiders—and Edda—could discredit the Mechts and make them useless to Argrid. The plan would take out the Mecht syndicate; the remaining threats would be the Council’s hatred of the raiders and Elazar’s magic.
“Those on Pilkvist’s crews can keep alert for news of Milo,” Lu pressed.
Cansu frowned. “You wanna find that Argridian?”
“Stopping the Mecht syndicate won’t defeat Argrid, not if they have magic to supplement their army. We’ll need more than just Council soldiers—we’ll need a wholly unified Grace Lorayan army, like what stopped Argrid the first time. We have at most two weeks to convince the Council that they can trust the other raider syndicates. Milo’s disappearance is what riled the Council in the first place; ultimately proving that the abduction was a lie will reveal that Argrid was manipulating the Council.”
“There’s no time,” Vex started, leaning on the wall of the pilothouse. “We have two weeks if we’re lucky. What if we find Ibarra and Elazar shows up the next day? If we have any hope of winning this, we need the Council on our side now. Otherwise, it’s just . . . us.”
“Then we bring the Council here.” Lu squared herself. “My mother is a Senior Councilmember. Kari Andreu. If I return to New Deza and tell her what has happened, she will listen. She may be able to convince other councilmembers to send soldiers, or envoys, or someone who can bear witness now, so there is no delay. Though I fear the Council will not be swayed if there is no proof—which is why finding Milo Ibarra is still so urgent. He will confirm what I tell my mother.”