Perhaps I understand the Red river folk as little as they understand me.
“There’s a difference between us and you,” Ashe finally snaps. “We do what we have to in order to survive, to carve out a life. Not because we don’t agree with which palace we end up living in.”
The words land like a blow from a hammer. I feel them deep in my chest, cracking my heart.
As a child, the first thing my father taught me was restraint. Even young strongarms can kill without control, so I learned early to keep my temper in check. If not for that stern tutelage, I suspect I might slap Ashe across his face and separate his head from his shoulders, or at least his teeth from his jaw.
I manage to hide my sudden rage behind my court mask.
“There’s a difference between us and you,” I force out, repeating his words. “I don’t expect you to understand it, or me.” Then I shutter my feelings, drawing a single, steadying breath. I’ll tell him what he needs to know, to keep us both alive and this keel afloat. “Orrian hunts with his court friends. They’re drunks, fools, noble idiots who take delight in the pain of others. I suspect that’s who he’s with. Their delight in the hunt and their taste for drink is why we aren’t all dead on the river.”
Ashe frowns. “Yet.”
“Yet,” I concede. I drag another hand through my hair, then tie it back into a quick tail. Better to keep it out of my way. Ashe watches me as I move, assessing me like the threat I am. I match his stare. “You really think you can lose him?”
I haven’t been on the keel long, but I doubt its top speed can outrun a prince. And we are on a boat, after all. It severely limits our path.
Despite my misgivings, Ashe seems to inflate. This is his domain, and he knows it well. “I think men like him are cowards deep down, and he won’t chase you beyond the safety of his own kingdom.”
“Normally, I’d agree,” I say. “But Orrian is proud. And losing me wounds his pride. That, he will not allow.”
Something pulls at Ashe’s face again, some tick of annoyance. He grumbles under his breath. “Easy job, easy river.”
I cock my head. It sounded like a prayer, something a foolish Lakelander might mumble before battle. “What’s that?”
He shrugs. “Just the code I like to live by.”
“Oops,” I say weakly, if only to lessen the tension a little. It doesn’t work and he remains next to me, tight as a coiled wire, ready to spring. I turn a little, putting my back to the keel again.
He mirrors me, blocking out the crew diligently at work behind us.
“Why save the boy?” he says suddenly, and he sounds as young as he looks. Not a captain, but a young man barely older than a teenager. Unsure, confused. Unrooted for the first time in his life. Without anchor or path.
I chew on my lip. Why save the boy? Part of me smarts again. Would he ask that question of a Red? Does he think us Silvers so beyond heart and compassion? Have we given him any reason not to think so?
“You jumped in too,” I finally reply. “Why save the boy?”
He blushes, red rising high on his cheeks.
“You know,” I breathe, “you really could have left me. I’m sure he wouldn’t have followed a Red keel out of spite.”
I don’t know why, but he relaxes, the great tension in his lean shoulders dropping away.
“Probably not,” he agrees. Then, to my shock, he nudges my shoulder with his own. “Luckily, I have a better moral compass than you.”
FIVE
Ashe
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
I should throw her in the river and be done with it. Leave her to splash around until her prince fishes her out. Get her away from my keel and my crew. And somehow I just can’t damn do it. Riette and Gill keep watching me like I’m insane. Big Ean has a stupid grin wider than he is. All three of them are probably thinking the same thing. That I’m smitten with the infernal Silver nuisance, and willing to risk all our lives to get her where she needs to go.
Just the accusation, even unspoken, makes me itch.
Easy job, easy river.
Well, this is a difficult fucking job on a suddenly difficult fucking river.
I decide to put as much distance between us as I can, leaving her to watch the stern while I patrol the bow. I point out rocks and errant obstacles on the current far more than I should, especially for Riette and Gill. They’re good enough to ignore my nerves, letting me nanny them through the next few bends.
The sun dips ahead of us, approaching the western horizon. The trees thicken on the Freeland bank, and the Lakeland fields, open and empty, stretch to the north. The current quickens beneath us. Every second feels stolen and each breath is a gasp.
We should be at the confluence by morning, and that’s where I’ll leave her for good. There’s no way I’m taking her to the Gates like this, not with a Lakelander prince lurking river knows where, hunting our ship. He could dry up the riverbed for all I know, leave us stranded in the mud to pick off as he likes. Silvers have done worse. I know it. I’ve seen it firsthand. We aren’t human to them. We’re just things to be used and discarded.
That’s how she sees us. That’s why she’s here, to use us to get downriver.
So why save the kid?
She jumped into the river knowing a nymph was waiting for her, ready to drown her or drag her away. All for some quiet Red kid she didn’t know from a stump. A Red servant’s son, nothing and no one. And a Silver princess jumped into that water to save him, knowing what it could do to her. Knowing the danger. I can’t shake it from my brain, what a risk she took, and for who.
I almost wish she hadn’t. Then I wouldn’t care what happens to her.
I shake my head. Ludicrous.
I’ll dump her at the confluence docks when the borders open up. I’ll give her a chance.
The chance she never gave us.
At the stern, she keeps her back to the keel, vigilant as a watchtower. If only I’d left her ratting on the Ohius docks, begging for passage with the rest. She’d be someone else’s problem instead of mine.
Or she’d be as good as dead, chained to a cruel man, with no life but a cage.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
When I was young, my mother read me stories from her old collection of books. Before he died, my father used to bring them to her when he got them on the river or by trading on the docks. Most were reprinted a dozen times over, handed down through generations, translated and copied. Stories of warriors, kings, impossible creatures, bravery, and adventure. Stories of Red men and women defeating impossible odds. I wish I’d never known those stories. They are for fools.
And I’m certainly acting like a fool now.
As a Riverman, I’ve always felt safest on the water, but for the first time in my life, that isn’t true. We don’t dare keep the lights running, and instead make do by the moon. Thank the river, it’s full tonight, bright enough to move by. I get Riette and Gill sleeping in shifts, one of them always ready should the current change. Big Ean sleeps in his scurry, ready to paddle off if we need to abandon the keel all together. I don’t plan to sleep at all, my mind abuzz with half-formed battle plans. The princess doesn’t sleep either.
Lyrisa said her Lakelander prince liked to hunt. I suppose he enjoys the sport of it, watching prey flee, terrified for its life. I wonder if he’s watching us now, in shadows and silhouettes across the water, moving without making a sound. I’ve passed Silver patrols this way before. I’m good at what I do. But those could always be paid off or tricked. Those weren’t noble Silvers, bred and trained to their abilities. Those weren’t Silvers with revenge in their blood, hungry for something far more valuable than grain or alcohol or illicit guns.