Chapter 4
We’ve been standing on the deck since daybreak, waiting and watching our home slowly morph into view.
The boat weaves through the smaller trees that sprout at the edge of the grove heading further in to where our city is strung between the bigger trunks. Some are as wide as entire ships, like giants from beneath the ocean’s surface, their canopies intertwining into a thick copse. They make up the bones of our home, an island with no land.
Sails tucked in, the crew rows the ship into the fisherman’s dock. Our welcome party cheers and waves down from above, lots of familiar faces and smiles shining from a spiderweb-like network of bridges stretches between the trees. The walkways bend and curve around the round, wooden shiels that are built on and around the tree branches. Kids run along, keeping pace with the ship’s creep into port, flags bearing Alaha’s emblem held high over their heads, the material rippling with the wind as they run.
I remember doing the same as a child, the excitement to see the sailors and guards home after they’d been gone for weeks at a time, sometimes more depending on weather, and carrying my own flag down the length of the parade. It’s the beginning of festivities that will run well into the night. I remember the tired lines etched into the faces of the sailors, thinking they must be so relieved to be home and away from the people of Kenta. How silly. My perspective was so naive and simple back then.
Spending weeks on end on a boat sucks the life out of you. Limited space, no privacy, and never-ending views of the same thing every day.
Then there’s this one day bursting with excitement at the Market,
experiencing people and food and things unlike anything we have in Alaha, before being tasked with the arduous and monotonous journey back.
Six weeks at sea feels like a different lifetime, long ago. Everything seems fuzzy around the edges, like I’m no longer looking through clear eyes anymore, and it doesn’t matter how many times I blink; the world is colored differently. Less, somehow.
The music and cheering grow louder as we anchor behind the boat that arrived not long before us, that crew now offloading cattle and other livestock. A man has an entire pig tied over his shoulders, and it squeals in protest.
“It’s a nice reminder that things could always be worse,” Kai says, nose scrunching from the smell of farm animals.
I manage a small smile. “I heard Uche got sentenced to a week of mucking stalls after complaining the pick for which boat each guard gets tasked to was rigged.”
Kai snorts, spotting the scowl on Uche’s face as he swats a calf on the rear, trying and failing to get the animal willingly down the gangway.
“Someone has to draw the short straw.”
Quite literally. His commander didn’t take well to being accused of favoritism, despite the rumors that he does in fact lick the longer straws so his favored crew gets their pick.
“Make sure you’re not leaving anything behind,” Gramble shouts, standing beside the gangway and making sure everyone departs the deck in a civilized manner. “Clean up and rest. You’ve got a party to attend tonight.”
He means everyone but Kai, Messer, Aurora, and myself. He came to us first thing this morning and instructed us to go straight to Captain Wren’s after disembarking.
“There’s not going to be any water left by the time we’re done being put through the wringer,” Messer says.
The one and only luxury of living on the decrepit Urchin Row in my tiny shiel by myself is that I don’t have to share a water reserve with anyone. I just hope I’m allowed a shower before being thrown in the brig.
Kai sniffs Messer’s shoulder. “You do stink.”
Messer feigns indignation, giving Kai a playful shove. “Speak for yourself. You’ve smelled like sardines for days, but I didn’t want to tell you because I’m nice.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re only nice to people with breasts.”
Kai and Messer’s heads both whip to me, astonished that those words came out of my mouth.
“What?” I say, defensive. “Are we pretending Messer isn’t a total rake?”
After a beat, Kai breaks out into laughter, then Messer lets out his own burst before yanking on the end of my braid.
“Then you should be grateful I never used my wiles on you,” he says with his most charming one-sided smirk on display.
“I’d like to see you try,” I smart back.
With Messer looking as if he’s genuinely interested in testing me, Kai clamps a hand down on his shoulder. “Let’s not,” Kai says. “I’ve seen her knock you on your ass on more than one occasion.”
“It was twice,” Messer says, holding up two fingers. “And it was because Gramble made us train blindfolded that week.”
He’s not wrong. I’m convinced he went easy on me as well, but I still milk the two takedowns any chance I can get. Kai, too.
Aurora joins us, sardonic smile on full display. “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Last to disembark, we make our way off the ship and up the stairs to the first story. News mustn’t have spread to the people yet, because everyone seems as excited to see us as they were for any past trips returning from the Market.
The three of us get to the Main and wait for Kai to finish making his way down the line of people vying for his attention. The center bridge is the widest and busiest of the city, spanning from one side of the grove to the other. It’s strung from the largest trees, a middle ground of sorts to travel any place in the grove and is usually bustling as people venture in and out of the shops carved within the trunks of the oldest trees.
Everything is decked out with ribbons and tables laid with confections for the party tonight, and games are being set up further down for the kids.
The group of wives who form the event committee for Alaha are sitting
around one of the tables as they stuff satchels of chopped and dyed leaves to be used for confetti, celebrating another successful year of trade.
Kai meets us, taking the lead as we continue to the second story. We take one of the many flights of stairs, bypassing the shiels of lesser ranking commanders on the way to Kai’s family living quarters. Kai looks at us, and we all prepare ourselves for whatever is to come next.
The first person we see when walking through the door is Dupre, the commander of the guard and the captain’s right hand. Never has there been a man alive more intimidating than Dupre. Known around the grove as the man too large for doors, he has to duck and turn slightly to fit between the jambs.
Captain Wren’s voice calls from within. “Detain the girl.”
The fear that spears through me turns to shock as Dupre uses shackles from his belt to ensnare Aurora’s wrist. She doesn’t fight it, face set in fierce determination as Dupre pulls her other hand behind her back, chaining them together.
“Send her to the brig. Stand by until I’m done here.”
Aurora doesn’t speak a single word, doesn’t demand answers as to why she’s being detained. She simply allows Dupre to usher her out, hard gaze lingering on Messer the longest as if to say I told you so.
Kai takes the lead. “What was that about?” he asks his father, appearing infinitely more at ease than Messer or I do.
Captain Wren is seated in the chair across from the settee. “I’ll ask the questions first,” he says, a drink in hand.
We file further inside to discover our fate.
Kai’s mother, Faline, enters from the galley and rushes to sweep her son into an embrace. “I’ve been worried sick,” she says, voice breaking.
Kai gives her a reassuring pat on the back. “I sent word back every other day, just as you asked.”
“It should have been every day,” she says with more steel in her voice, pushing him to arm’s length to get a good look at all of him. “Like a thoughtful son would do.”
“It would have unnecessarily tied up extra birds,” the captain drones from his chair, chin resting in the palm of his hand. He appears at ease, with
a tiny, endeared smile gracing his features as he watches his wife fret over their son.
“What’s a few birds compared to my peace of mind?” she says, smiling at Messer and me.
We both share a look of mild relief, tension easing from our shoulders.
Kai’s mother has always been kind to me, so I’m grateful she’s here.
Faline steps in front of me and Messer, giving the two of us gentle squeezes on our upper arms in a maternal gesture before taking her place beside her husband.
The captain lifts his wife’s hand, kissing the back of her knuckles.
“Nothing besides him actively breathing in your presence will ever do anything for your peace of mind when it comes to our only son.”
She smiles, not refuting his statement.
Her hair is pulled back in a clip, the exact shade of Kai’s, but that’s their only common attribute. Every other one of Kai’s features comes from his father, identical except for the decades between them.
Returning his attention to us, the captain motions for us to sit. “I’ve gotten the messages, but I want to hear it from you three. What exactly transpired?” His eyes land on me first.
I take a deep breath and force myself not to look to Kai as I explain my side.
I tell them about the soldier following me, his accusation of thievery and attempting to remove my hand. I skip mentioning the wall or the singeing pain and run through the following sequence of events, ending with the explosion Aurora set off and gaining our escape.
“And you didn’t take anything you didn’t purchase?” the captain asks. I don’t look away from his stern and unyielding stare.
“I did not.”
He may not believe me given that I don’t have the best reputation, so I don’t blame him for the unsure look on his face, but he moves on to Kai.
His perspective mirrors mine, describing coming upon the soldier and ordering him to let me go. The helplessness Kai felt in that moment is tangible even though his voice doesn’t waver as he retells it. It’s obvious to all of us that he didn’t like not having the ability to stop them.
Messer repeats the same version of events except for the part where he had to admit to hitting the soldier who detained me. Committing violence against a Kenta person breaks the peace treaty completely. We’re trained to react in defense, and only if provoked.
“Did you feel like they were a threat to you?”
Messer fidgets. “Not to me, personally,” he says, eyes shifting to me.
“But to B.”
The captain turns his attention my way. “And you, Brynn? Did you feel like you were forced to defend yourself when you used the Kenta soldier’s weapon against him?”
I’ve had a lot of time to think back on how I sliced through the soldier’s leg. I acted on impulse, but I nod, knowing there’s no other acceptable answer given the situation.
The captain absorbs the information we’ve provided, silence settling over the room as we await his next words.
“Through all of this, no one has explained to me why Brynn was alone in the first place. You’re supposed to stay in groups to prevent incidents like this from happening.”
I look at Kai. We prepared a suitable excuse, but he doesn’t look away from his father when he says, “I asked for Brynn’s hand in marriage.”
Messer shifts in place. I don’t have to look at him to know he’s shocked by the revelation. Judging by the frown on Faline’s face, I can only surmise she’s less than pleased by the news.
The captain looks toward me, then back to Kai. “And?”
Kai looks uncomfortable. “She hasn’t said no.”
I narrow my eyes on him. Thanks for throwing me under the boat,
asshole.
I haven’t said yes either.
All eyes land on me, and embarrassment burns up my neck and into my cheeks. I’m mortified. The last thing I expected to have to explain is why I’m not jumping at the first chance to marry his son.
“I needed a moment to … process,” I say, drowning out my racing heartbeat.
The captain sighs, as if annoyed. He stands, pacing a few steps. “What I’m about to divulge to you will need to remain between the people in this room, understand?” He waits for us to give a nod of acknowledgment. “We suspect Aurora is part of a small uprising here in Alaha. We think she went to the Market with the intention to create a disturbance that would break the
peace treaty.”
We all still at the same time.
Then Messer leans forward in his chair. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” the captain says. “She hasn’t mentioned anything to you three about wanting to cause a rebellion in Alaha?”
Aurora tolerates me on a good day, so my answer is easy as I shake my head. Kai does the same.
Messer’s response is more hesitant. “She’s never made it a secret how much she hates the Kenta,” he says. “But a lot of people voice their distaste for having to rely on Kenta as we do.”
The captain folds his arms across his chest as he leans against his desk.
“If I could find a way for my people to be more self-sufficient without war, I’d do it. After going back and forth, they’ve agreed to uphold the peace treaty on one condition: we turn over the two perpetrators who orchestrated the attack against their people—Brynn and Aurora.”
Kai goes rigid in his seat. “Not happening.”
“Kai,” the captain reprimands.
“No,” Kai says again, no room for negotiation in his tone. Faline jumps into the conversation. “Listen to your father.” Kai bites his tongue, waiting for his father to continue.
“I don’t want to do that, knowing your feelings for her, and I’ve already informed them it’s non-negotiable because she’s betrothed to my son. They can ask for whoever else they like, but the future leader’s wife is not one of
them.”
My heart stops at the implication.
“Plus, we’re operating under the narrative that we acted in self-defense.
I’m not turning over anyone yet.”
“And if we don’t give into their demands?” Messer says.
“Kenta wants assurances that an uprising isn’t happening. I asked them to give us a chance to investigate within our ranks so by the time the next Market comes around, things proceed without incident. Which will be two years from now, instead of one.”
I suck in a breath. “They’re going to starve us out.”
“We’ve stocked up enough supplies and food for the next year, and a lot can change in the coming months, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves with unnecessary worrying.” The captain’s displeasure with the Market’s events seem outweighed by his son’s knee pressing into mine in an effort to soothe my fears. “Besides, we have a Matching Ceremony to plan.”
Messer chokes on his own spit, covering it with a cough when I shoot him a dirty look.
“Go. Get some sleep,” the captain says, dismissing us as he walks back around to his side of the desk. “I don’t need to remind you that everything we discussed stays inside this room.” His eyes linger on Messer. “I’d hate to have to tell your father.”
It’s as much as a threat to us as it is to Messer as he knows the lengths we go to in order to protect our friend.
“Good. See you tonight.”
We’re halfway out the door when Messer stops and says, “And Aurora?
What’s going to happen to her?”
Wren takes a healthy gulp of his drink and says, “That depends on her co-operation.”
Knowing we’re not going to get more than that, we don’t speak until we’re outside with the door closed behind us, checking to make sure there’s not anyone nearby.
Kai scrubs a hand through his hair. “It could have gone worse.”
“Speak for yourself,” Messer says. “Aurora might get exiled.”
“She knew the risk when she decided to ignite a war. Literally.”
Messer sighs. “Knowing Aurora, she’ll keep her mouth shut. I don’t know if it’ll end up helping or hurting her in the end.” He shakes his head, features clearing as he looks to Kai, then me. “I’ll see you two love birds at the party?”
It takes everything in me not to punch him right in his smug face, and he laughs as he strides away. Kai, on the other hand, has the audacity to appear apologetic.
“I’m sorry,” he says, pushing the hair off his forehead.
“For what? Your parents’ disappointment that you asked me or the fact that it’s obviously not my choice to make?”
His brows come down to form a frown as he shakes his head. “My parents aren’t disappointed in my choosing you,” he protests.
I look away from him, taking in the endless bustling stream of people coming and going along the spiderweb of bridges.
“I need sleep,” I say quietly.
He looks as if he means to argue with me, but whatever expression I have on my face makes him think better of it. “Later. We’ll talk later.”
I leave him without another word. I’m too exhausted and confused and angry to speak. As it stands right now, I can either marry Kai or hand myself over to Kenta as an Alaha rebel.
I suppose either of those options is still better than being exiled, but they’re somehow equally as unnerving.
