“Better. You?”
“Better.”
And it was true. The nausea and pounding headache were both gone, and the muscle aches had even lessened. Kindred wondered if it was the mattress, or the sleep, or this place. She breathed more freely than she had in a long time.
“What did they give you for work?” Sarah asked, scooting closer, though it nearly caused her to slide off her mattress.
“I have to work with Seraph—the councillor—on the hearthfires. I’m not sure. Today will be my first day.”
Sarah nodded.
“I remember Seraph from before when I lived here. He always seemed all right. A little crazy but all right.”
Kindred laughed and nodded.
“Crazy is right. And they’ve put you up with the crow-callers?” Kindred shifted back a bit, giving some room on her mattress, an open invitation.
Sarah smiled and slipped over, dropping down next to Kindred, their faces suddenly close, their knees brushing against one another, bodies forming two sides of a circle.
“Yeah. Monitoring the skies, sending messages through the birds to scouting ships out on voyages or patrols. Simple stuff—easy enough to do for the time we have to be here.”
“Is it strange, being back?” Kindred suddenly realized that, for all the wonder and weirdness of this place for her, none of it would be new for Sarah. She had grown up running along those streets; she’d probably been one of those children playing in the ingress of the Breaches. What a childhood she must have had, so close to the Forever Sea, living in and among and with it.
“Strange is one word for it,” Sarah said, frowning. “I never thought I’d come back. And even after the captain’s plan, I didn’t think we’d be staying for any amount of time. Just a little bartering to refill our stores, haggling maybe for better maps, and then on our way, either further out or on a wider arc toward the Mainland.”
Sarah stared off, no longer looking at Kindred but over her shoulder, past and beyond.
“My parents are still here, I guess. Friends I grew up with. Sailors I knew and sailed next to.”
“Have you found them yet? Told them you’re back?”
Sarah shook her head and said, “No. I ended those relationships when I left; most of them were the reason I left. I didn’t think I’d ever be coming back.”
“But is it so bad to come back? There’s no Cantrev here, no one burning down storehouses, no fights over water rights or resource allocation.” Kindred didn’t know why she was pushing this—she’d been thrown into a prison, forced to take a test, given to the care of an absolute piss-weed warden, and then knocked out cold when she disobeyed—but she couldn’t push away the feeling of being in the right place, of somehow, in some way, moving toward where she was meant to be, of following in her grandmother’s footsteps.
I go to lose myself in it, she heard in the beat of her heart and the whisper of the Sea outside.
Sarah focused on her, and she wasn’t smiling anymore. When she spoke, it was not unkind, but the warm laziness of sleep had gone from her voice.
“You don’t know these people like I do, Kindred. There are Cantrevs here, even if they don’t seem like it. You can’t trust this place. I don’t know why the Council gave us this deal—fifty days and they give us a boat? I’ve never known them to be so giving. But this is the first time I’ve ever known there to be a pirate majority on the Council, too. Nothing makes sense to me here anymore.”
“How does the Council work?” Kindred asked, trying to think through the people who’d been sitting at that table in the Council’s building.
“There are always seven positions on the Council, and each position represents a part of the great responsibilities of the Once-City. The head councillor is always in charge of water, and then there is the fleet commander, the wardens, the harvester guild, the trade guild, the hearthfire keepers, and the healers. When I lived here, the pirates—the ones who believe in raiding and pillaging, stealing ships and killing any in their way—only had three of those positions, but it was clear they were growing in power.
“And now it seems they have four.” Sarah ticked them off on her fingers. “Ebb-La-Kem, water. The Word, wardens. Uz, harvesting guild. And GladWill, trade guild.”
Kindred felt relief in not hearing Seraph’s name on the list, though the whole thing was too abstract for her to really comprehend.
And more immediately, she felt distance growing between her and Sarah. They no longer angled their bodies toward one another, and whatever tiny stillness they had found seemed to have gone.
“You can’t trust them, Kindred,” Sarah said, eyes hard, voice steady and forceful. “The Once-City cares only for its own, and no matter how many times they call us citizens, they don’t really believe it—not the ones in power, anyway.”
Voices from below signaled that the others had woken up, and Kindred felt the spell in their little room fading.
“Okay,” she said, nodding, concerned by Sarah’s sudden intensity. “I won’t.”
Sarah reached out for Kindred’s unburned hand and covered it in her own, holding it tight to her chest.
“We just need to do our time, pay attention, and outsmart them before they fuck us over first.”
Kindred nodded again, trying to say something, anything that wouldn’t betray what she had begun to build with Sarah.
But she stayed silent.
* * *
They came downstairs together a short time later, and Kindred was surprised to find Seraph chatting amiably with Scindapse, the two of them sharing some food together. The others—Cora, Quixa, Captain Caraway, and Little Wing—sat together in a different room, saying little, eating little.
“Ah, fantastic!” Seraph said when he saw Kindred. He shared a few more words with Scindapse, who, in his presence, seemed to have brightened somewhat. She even smiled a little as Seraph patted her on the shoulder and said, “Just give it some time.”
“Feeling better?” Seraph asked, handing Kindred a few strands of whatever rationed food they’d been given. “Breakfast,” he said as he passed it over.
“Yeah, I am,” she said, feeling Sarah’s proximity and thinking of their conversation. You can’t trust them, Kindred.
“Excellent. Let’s get to it!” Seraph was up and already moving toward the door, his excitement palpable.
“Wait.”
Captain Caraway stood in the doorway of the other room, her face haggard. The flower on her chest was almost completely covered by the robes she wore, though an arc of pink showed just above her collar.