Vergel sighs and stands up, brushing a few errant leaves and dirt off himself. He puts his hand on top of Eban’s. “For the Kingdom of Waves.”
“For the return of the Kingdom of Waves and the spirits that will guide us home,” Eban declares, and so it is settled.
CHAPTER ELEVENEBAN
I climb back up into the loft to retrieve some dried meat and salted cheese from my hidden stash to split among the three of us. I’m as ravenous as a bear and I’ll bet the girl, Gin, hasn’t eaten in quite some time. I rarely take pity on anyone, yet I find myself offering her the last of my own portion.
When I hand it to her, she hesitates, then accepts it reluctantly. “Thank you,” she says at last with a small smile that briefly changes her face. She doesn’t look as tough or hard anymore, and when her eyes shine, I can’t look away.
That bit of sustenance raises all our spirits. Vergel starts a small fire outside, near the cliff. “If you warm it up, it tastes better,” I tell her.
“Won’t we be seen?” she asks.
I shake my head. “They can’t check them all.” I point below us, toward the center of the Sleeve. The sky is thick with gray smoke.
“I’ve never seen it from above like this,” she says quietly.
“Yeah, it’s even uglier from this view,” I laugh.
“No, I mean—over there,” she says, pointing to the grand palaces on the hillside.
We sit around the fire, eating quietly and watching over the estates, which somehow manage to look both small and intimidating from afar.
We watch as droves of people emerge from the estates in the distance. One by one, they exit from the iron gates and begin walking back down the road that leads into the southeastern edge of the Sleeve. None of us comment on it—we all know the tiny figures are Ophir like us, leaving their night shifts at the high houses of Lacon, where they toil through the night, serving our wealthy overlords.
Gin looks especially uncomfortable with the scene. I’m used to it, but maybe because of the relics we’d uncovered, or the near escape, I find myself more bothered by it than usual. Our once-great people, a proud folk who lived centuries ago on a floating island paradise, now mere servants, begging for scraps in the gutter. The thought fills me with rage—I want to march down the hill and ambush one of the estates. Break some windows. Take whatever I can grab. Burn it all down. But then, I think, I’ll be just as bad as the Laconians.
She stops eating and stares at the tiny chunk of cheese left in her hand. Her jaw clenches. At first it seems like she’s simply as angry as I am, but there’s a slight quiver in her chin. She’s trying not to cry.
“I know the food’s not fresh, but I didn’t think it wasthatbad.” The joke doesn’t help. She focuses on the cheese in her hand, expression unchanged.
I look to Vergel for some assistance, but he’s lying on his back with his hands behind his head. I try another tack. “Look, I know we don’t know each other, but I know how you feel. We’re all suffering. We’ve all lost something. Or someone. Or both.”
“I’ve lost everything, not that I’ve ever had very much,” Gin says suddenly. Vergel and I both look at her, surprised by the personal disclosure. She doesn’t look directly back at us. Her eyes are locked intently on the scene below. “But whatever.” She lets out a sad half laugh. “Tonight I almost died. Twice.”
Twice? Vergel and I exchange glances.
“A part of me wishes it had been an actual execution,” she mutters. It’s clear she’s just talking to herself, that she’s forgotten she’s around other people.
“Actualexecution?” Vergel asks. “Excuse me?”
I toss a bad bit of meat into the fire. The scrap of flesh crackles when it hits the flames. I want to know what she meant, too, though I know better than to press and cause her to shut down.
“Well, it was supposed to be a real execution, but I was saved at the last minute.” She laughs softly.
I can’t resist. “And why were you… what happened?”
She doesn’t answer right away. She probably isn’t willing to say any more, which doesn’t surprise me. Secrets are all anyone really has.
“The usual Ophir story. My childhood was as cruel and difficult as anyone’s—I’m sure yours was, too.” She cracks a small stick in half and tosses it into the fire piece by piece, as I had with the meat. The fire snaps. “But I knew I wasn’t cut out for the Sleeve. I’m not strong enough for that life. I did it for years, working as a thief and a mercenary. It was better than the alternative.”
“Seems like you’re pretty good at it,” I say. “I mean, you landed the same job we did.” Vergel nods.
Gin shrugs. “I hated being good at it. I hated every part of it. I wanted out of night work. I got lucky, I got a job as a kitchen maid at a pleasure house.”
Vergel and I don’t say anything. Everyone has to do whatever they need to do to survive.
As if she could sense our thoughts she shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t like that. I worked in thekitchen. I thought I was finally safe. At least the work I was doing wouldn’t end in me getting arrested or sentenced to death.” She scoffs. “So much for that. I ended up being kicked out because I slapped a customer. Let’s just say he mistook me for one of the courtesans, and wasn’t polite about it.”
