These Divided Shores, page 5
Of course she’d recognize the name. Vex eyed the Tuncian raiders, who were out of earshot.
“Argrid’s failed resistance, you mean,” he grumbled.
A long moment passed. “Your father was incredibly brave.”
Vex bit down on his tongue. That used to be the first word that flared into his mind when Rodrigu came into a room. Brave. Followed by strong and loving and joyful and—
He’d thought, if his father was brave and strong, that he had to be those things too. God, he’d idolized his father. Everyone had—when the collaborators in Rodrigu’s resistance had filled his office, their faces glowed with hope. They had wanted to overthrow Elazar and put eleven-year-old Ben on the throne with Rodrigu serving as regent until he came of age. With Rodrigu in power, Argrid would pull away from the Church, legalize Grace Loray’s botanical magic, and stop the burnings, torture, and fear.
Paxben had squished into a chair in the back of the room during the secret meetings, overflowing with pride that his father was someone who could inspire such awe.
That pride blossomed, though weak from years beaten down. Vex could rename himself, turn his back on what his father had made him—but he couldn’t get rid of this pain, no matter how hard he tried.
“As are you,” Kari continued, “for all you must have faced. I cannot imagine what you have endured to be alive today.”
“I’ve done what I had to do to get by in this world. The world you helped make.”
Kari sighed. “My daughter told you about my role in the revolution.”
Vex swung on her, one hand rigid on the boat’s railing. “She told me what you made her do. The way you used her to be a soldier for your cause. Your own child. You’re a monster. How could you live that life and make those decisions for her? Didn’t you see what that did to her? Couldn’t you have been a normal parent? Couldn’t you have made her happy?”
Edda stood. Nayeli hesitated, hand braced on the deck, and in the dimness of the pilothouse’s single lantern, it looked like she was crying.
Kari’s eyes were glassy too. “I will never forgive myself for what I let Adeluna do. But the life I chose—to fight injustices and pain—I had to. I never would have been able to look at her, knowing I had been too afraid to try to make this world better for her. And”—Kari stared at him as if she could see the thoughts bruising his mind—“I suspect your father felt the same.”
Vex flew to his feet and spun to face the calm lake. Shut up. You don’t know a damn thing—you didn’t know him at all—
“I didn’t know him,” Kari said, following him up. “But I read his correspondences with our revolutionaries during the war. I worked with the refugees he sent here. He was passionately in favor of a new world full of promise and peace. Such hope could have only come from a man who was fighting for someone he dearly loved.”
Vex shut his eye. Love. Rodrigu hadn’t loved him. If he had, he would’ve put Paxben above his plan to depose Elazar. He would’ve been careful and not let Elazar find him out.
Vex hated Rodrigu for that. He hated him for dying and leaving him alone in a world of sinners and burnings. For not being on the deck of this boat, right now, in the same way he’d hated Rodrigu every minute since his death. In a way that felt too much like a love so strong it cored out his insides and made his tremors feel like they’d kill him then and there.
Vex had been ignoring so much—his father, his real identity, his illness—and now that he’d acknowledged them, they demanded six years’ worth of attention at once.
“You all right, Captain?” Edda asked, her face open and sad with her own lifetime of regret, her pain coming from the moment eight years ago when she’d murdered her husband and had to flee the Mechtlands. Nayeli was silent behind her, echoing Edda’s expression. Their individual wells of regret were what linked the three of them most.
Vex sniffed. Are any of us?
But Kari spoke instead. “What is the plan now?” She rubbed a hand over her face and folded her arms, gathering herself up. As though she hadn’t lost her daughter, her husband, and her country before getting dragged into war plans.
Vex shook his head, incredulous. “How do you do that? Plunge on ahead, no matter what bad stuff has happened. She did it too.”
At the mention of Lu, Kari’s facade rippled. Tears rushed into her eyes, but she held on to her soft smile. “I do it for her. I do it for the people I love.” Her smile slipped. “How have you been getting by all these years? Haven’t you been fighting for anyone?”
The memory of Ben punched through Vex’s thoughts. When Elazar took everything from him, the fact that Ben was alive had comforted him. That one day, he might see his cousin again, and convince Ben not to trust Elazar, and they’d be irmáns, brothers, like they used to be.
That goal had faded the more Vex had to fight just to survive. His goals became smaller, until he fought only for himself, Nayeli, and Edda.
“Who are you fighting for now?” Vex didn’t realize how insensitive a question it was until he asked it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Lu,” Kari answered. Her focus shifted back to the horizon. “I’ll still fight for her, so her death isn’t in vain.”
Vex had never let himself think about that. That his father’s death had been a waste. Nothing had come from his heresy.
Vex’s focus slipped. When he came back, Edda was giving Kari a neutered explanation of the plan they’d come up with to defeat Argrid.
Well, it was Cansu and Fatemah’s plan. Vex’s interests had been narrow: to free Kari, to find Ben. He’d try to focus on the bigger war now, though.
“We have Cansu’s syndicate based out of Port Mesi-Teab,” Edda was saying. “We know the Mecht syndicate is allied with Argrid—they were all over that burning at the castle. The other syndicates, the Emerdians and Grozdans . . . we aren’t sure where they fall. It doesn’t seem like Argrid’d be able to convince more than one syndicate to join them, so best chance, they’re both viable allies. That’s the goal, anyway—to get the syndicates united, to create a strong enough force to fight against Argrid. Like you did, during the revolution.”
“Fatemah said she’ll send raiders to Port Camden,” Nayeli explained. She slid up next to Vex. “If the Emerdian syndicate sided with Argrid, the Tuncians will back us up; if Emerdon wants to fight, the Tuncians will help us break into the prison. Either way, we’ll get into that prison, grab our people, and reconvene in Port Mesi-Teab—the sanctuary is hidden from Argrid.”
Kari’s eyebrows rose. “Sanctuary?”
Vex eyed Nayeli, who bit her lips together and shrugged as if to say, What the hell?
“A refuge the Tuncians built for their needy,” she said. “We’ve kept it . . . secluded.”
Kari’s eyebrows stayed up. She nodded, logging the information.
“How will we know if Cansu’s in the prison?” Edda asked. “Or what if the rumors are wrong, and Argrid is using the building as a garrison, not a jail? We could walk into a trap.”
Vex hadn’t thought of that. God, he’d always been terrible at stuff like this, big-scheme planning. Throw him into a situation, and he could improvise his way out; tell him to get one person out of a jail, and he could coordinate enough to do it. But his father had made him play this awful strategy game when he was younger, one where players had to map out ten, twenty moves in advance while considering the moves of their opponent and different traps on the board. The memory sent a dull ache into Vex’s neck—and a sharp whimper into his throat.
His father had been so damn good at the game. Vex had never won against him. Elazar’s defensors had still gotten hold of correspondence between Rodrigu and the Grace Lorayan rebels, or found plants Rodrigu had illegally stashed to use against Elazar, or whatever it was that had condemned him, and Vex’s world had crumbled.
What hope did Vex have of coming through this war alive?
“We’re counting on Nathaniel Blaise being willing to talk,” Vex tried.
“You mean instead of shooting us on the spot?” Nayeli rubbed her shoulder where one of the Emerdian raiders had shot her last time they’d been in Port Camden.
Edda faced Kari. “What’d you do to convince the syndicates to unite last time? Nate will have better information about what is going on in the Port Camden prison.”
Kari sighed. “We—the rebels—spent months persuading the Heads to speak with us, and months after, trying to coordinate demands between them. Ultimately, there was one desire that appeased them: autonomy in the new government. Which many of the rebels refused, until the war turned dire.”
Heaviness rippled over her face. Vex knew what she meant now by dire—she meant the final battle, the night Argrid took the revolutionaries’ headquarters.
The night Milo Ibarra had tortured Lu.
Rage made Vex shoot forward. “We’ll make the raiders unify. Only . . . I realize that after that whole bill to eradicate raiders, most raiders would rather we string you up as a show of solidarity. Which, hey, might unite the syndicates anyway.”
Kari gave Vex an unimpressed stare. “I was under house arrest because I opposed the Council turning on raiders. I can use that to my advantage, and I will find another way to win back the raiders’ respect.” She shifted, smoothing her skirts as she surveyed the gray-black horizon. “We go to Port Camden and meet with Nathaniel Blaise. I convince him to join our cause. We use the combined might of the Emerdian and Tuncian syndicates to break into Port Camden prison and free Cansu.”
“And Ben,” Vex added. Kari frowned in confusion. “Elazar has him. He’ll force Ben to finalize permanent magic that would make Argridian defensors unstoppable.”
Kari sighed. “That Argrid has begun using magic against us is so inconceivable, I cannot keep that piece of the war clear—let alone that the Crown Prince has defected. He followed your father’s example, it seems.” She gave Vex a smile he couldn’t return and smoothed her skirts again, one of her few nervous tics. “After we rescue Cansu—and the prince—we gather in Port Mesi-Teab and, with Cansu and Nathaniel, we seek unification with the Grozdan syndicate and use our numbers to push Argrid out of Grace Loray.”
Silence followed, everyone digesting the plan.
“If you don’t mind”—Kari sat back on the crate—“I would like to be alone.”
Nayeli squinted. “How? It’s a really small boat.”
Edda punched her in the arm. “We’ll do what we can.”
Edda and Nayeli moved away, but Vex hesitated.
“You didn’t know, did you?” Vex swallowed. “What your husband did. That he was feeding information to the Argridians.”
Kari looked up. “I fear he may have done more than that.”
Vex wanted to ask what she meant. But, just as strongly, he didn’t want to know.
He’d had two weeks with the knowledge of Lu’s death, and it still poked holes in his lungs, wrapping cold fingers around his heart and squeezing, squeezing.
He should talk to Kari. But what could he say to give her any comfort?
Vex looked down at the teak deck. “I think I loved your daughter.”
Kari didn’t try to hide the tears spilling out of her eyes, or the blotchy redness to her face. She bowed her head—a thanks, an offering.
Edda squeezed Vex’s shoulder, and they made for the pilothouse, leaving Kari alone.
Vex had to admit that Elazar’s takeover of Grace Loray had been perfect this time.
Cansu’s raiders sailed up to Port Camden at midday. The last time Vex had been to this city was months ago, to steal crates of Healica for the Argridian bullies who’d threatened to kill his crew if he didn’t give them what Elazar demanded. Remembering that time, when it’d just been him, Nayeli, and Edda racing around the island, trying to avoid his uncle’s lackeys while planning how to hide away from any war—god, it almost seemed simple now.
Like the other main ports on Grace Loray, Port Camden had been built by a specific group of immigrants and mimicked the styles of its Mainland counterpart—in this case, Emerdon. Sharp roofs peaked over towering, narrow structures of crisscrossing timbers and white panels, compliments of Emerdon’s fixation on masonry: the cobblestone roads, the arching bridges, the chimneys hugging most buildings.
But that was where the similarities between Port Camden and the fairly well-off country of Emerdon ended. Because Port Camden was a pit.
Every building needed upkeep, and garbage littered the streets. The Emerdian syndicate liked to blame Port Camden’s deficiency on the Council—once the rebels had won the war against Argrid and instituted a real government, the Grace Loray Republic had taken control of magic trade with the Mainland countries. Any time the Council sold magic to the Mainland, it was official and sent money into the Council’s coffers; any time raiders sold magic to the Mainland, it was illegal and sent raiders into the Council’s prisons. The syndicates lost their main source of income, which spiraled all four of them into poverty.
But the Emerdian syndicate, and Port Camden by extension, had been hurting long before then. From what Vex could tell, they’d had a run of irresponsible Heads—and Nate wasn’t much better, sinking money into elaborate steamboats or feeding his Emerdian obsession with fine leather goods. Rumors had it that his husband was trying to turn things around, but for now the poverty gave off a dangerous energy.
Cansu’s raiders steered the boat slowly, weaving around other vessels moored on the banks, but traffic in the waterways was nonexistent. No one stood in doorways; no patrons bustled toward markets. Loose shutters banged against windows. The chirp of a child’s cry cut off with the slam of a door. A stray dog shot into an alley, its tail curved between its legs.
Port Mesi-Teab had been similar when Vex and his group had left days ago. Elazar had managed to wrap up the island with familiar actions: burnings. Defensors in every city. Priests spewing nonsense about purity and cleansing. And now, the Council’s endorsement.
Cansu’s steamboat curved down a narrow river. Off a branching road, five Argridian soldiers marched in the opposite direction, focused on a cluster of people farther up.
“Halt!” a soldier commanded. “By order of the Eminence King, stop for questioning!”
The people obeyed—except one, who bolted. The others cried alarm as two soldiers broke off from the group and raced after him, pistols out.
“Stop!” the soldiers bellowed. “Raider! He’s a raider!”
Cansu’s raiders pushed the boat on. Vex winced, a low ache cramping his stomach as the road slipped from view. They couldn’t help—there were too many soldiers, and more could be up that next road, or around that corner, or waiting in a steamboat on that river.
Next to Vex, Kari didn’t speak. But he could see her mind spinning with similar thoughts. Weighing possibilities. Considering outcomes.
Being around her was not making him miss Lu any less.
A couple minutes later, Cansu’s raiders docked in a shack on the edge of the stream. This was Nate’s main neighborhood—that building with the roof so steep half the brown shingles were slipping down was where Vex had found the Emerdians’ Healica. He doubted it was still one of Nate’s drop spots now, though.
They disembarked, and Vex pointed. “That road leads to one of Nate’s favorite taverns. We can start there.”
A group of kids stood under the awning of a closed schoolhouse. One of Cansu’s raiders whistled to get their attention. “Get inside!” he hissed. “Don’t take—”
The raider’s command cut off with a startled yelp. Vex whipped around to a dull pain that knocked the air from his lungs. Another fist barreled into his face and stars burst across his vision—then a bag went over his head, blackening the daylight.
Terror sparked through him. Argridian defensors?
“Edda!” he shouted as hands grabbed him. “Nay—explosives! Something!”
Grunting and a shout of alarm didn’t tell him who was winning, who had been subdued—
A weight slammed into the back of his head, and consciousness slipped through Vex’s fingers.
5
LU DIDN’T SCREAM as the defensors led Ben and Gunnar through the prison—not that Ben could have helped her. The rumble of stone on stone was the only noise that pulled his focus back in time to see a wall close off a hall they had just passed through.
This prison was a living trap. Once Lu picked the lock, how would they get out? One wrong turn, and they would die down here, lost in a maze of shifting halls.
It was midday when defensors shoved Ben and Gunnar outside. A staircase led from the prison to a river, giving them a view of Port Camden’s buildings jabbing the sky like fangs.
Ben filed down the steps after Jakes and glanced back—Gunnar was right behind him. The muzzle, his wrist and ankle chains tugged down his beaten body.
This was the closest defensors had allowed them to be to each other since their capture.
Ben’s heart cracked. He grabbed Gunnar’s forearm, their manacles clanking. Gunnar’s blue eyes locked on his, but his expression was distant, fighting through a fog.
Ben cursed. “I’m sorry,” he panted. “I’m sorry I couldn’t—”
“Thaid fuilor mauth,” Gunnar murmured, the iron deadening the noise. “Remember? Thaid—” He winced. “—fuilor—”
A defensor behind Gunnar grabbed his shoulders. “Move!”
They’d reached the river. Three short docks held prison boats, fortified steamers with cages on the main decks. The defensors shoved Ben and Gunnar aboard one and into the cage.
“Even think about doing anything stupid,” a defensor told them as they locked the door, “and the big one’ll suffer.”
Ben swallowed his nausea, his mind filling with images of shoving this man overboard.
Fingers of humidity coiled the hair around Ben’s face as he hunched under the metal. He fought a wince at the sight of Gunnar huddled beside him, gripping the bars to keep himself steady against the slosh and surge of the boat.
“Clear,” Gunnar said.
