Water & Storm Country

But none of that seems to matter, the repairwork left unfinished for now.

A crowd has gathered already, as surely wordhas travelled to each and every ship.

A bilge rat is on trial!

The admiral’s son is a witness!

The Mayhem’s deck is completely full, andthose from the other ships that couldn’t fit have climbed the mastsand the ropes of the nearest adjacent ships to watch. No one willmiss this.

I expected something more private, because ofwho I am, but I shouldn’t have. Crimes are always tried in public,under the law. My father wouldn’t make an exception, even for hisown son.

A hush falls over the crowd when they see me.Ignoring their stares, their whispers, I scan over their headsuntil I reach the ship’s center, where the main mast remainstoppled like a freshly chopped tree.

I see her.

Alive and dry and breathing.

Her expression is stoic, like she’s posingfor a painting. Even under the circumstances, I have the urge tosmile when I see her.

My lips remain flat when I see my father,decked out in his pristine blue uniform, littered with gleamingmedallions, his admiral’s hat dipped low in the front to shield hiseyes from the sun, casting the top half of his face in shadow. Hisexpression is a neutral mask.

And beside him: Hobbs, equally presentable,but gri

Cain stands opposite, watching me, offering aslight nod of encouragement when my gaze falls upon him.

I push through the crowd, pulse pounding.

I catch shards of conversations, like brokenglass to my ears:

“I heard he’s requested to run away and jointhe Stormers with her.”

“I heard she’s pregnant with his child.”

“A very reliable source told me she’sactually his sister.”

In another situation I might laugh at theabsurdity of the comments. But not today. Not now.

I reach my father, stand before him with mylegs locked tight at the knees, willing them not to tremble. Waitfor his verdict.

Silence ensues, and I can feel Jade’s gaze,but I won’t look at her. Can’t. Not yet. Not until I know forsure.

He doesn’t waste time with formalities. Afterall, that’s not what the crowd is here for. “Do you deny that thisbilge rat climbed to the bird’s nest, which is forbidden of herkind?” He says her kind with such contempt that it soundslike he’s spitting it, although his words are free of moisture.

“No, but I—”

“And do you deny that you disobeyed the orderof a superior officer in order to rescue her?”

“No, but I can explain—”

“I’ve made my decision, Lieutenant,” myfather says, finally lifting the brim of his hat to reveal hisstriking blue eyes.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be. I haven’teven had a chance to explain, to tell him that I’m the one whoallowed her into the bird’s nest in the first place, which is whyshe felt comfortable going there. I haven’t told him that she wasfull of courage, trying to help save the ship when the sail ripped.I haven’t told him anything.

“For her brazen and illegal actions, she willreceive eighteen lashes, to be administered first thing tomorrowmorning.”

My breath catches, along with half thepeople’s on the ship, as gasps rise from the crowd. She will bespared! My father has chosen mercy over death. I glance at Jade,fighting back the biggest smile of my life. I can see a smiletugging at her lips, although there’s fear there too. She’s aboutto receive the beating of her life. Watching her be whipped will beheartbreaking, awful, the worst thing ever, but at least she won’tbe at the bottom of the ocean, or in some sharp-tooth’s belly.

“Your actions yesterday were heroic, Son,” myfather says, shocking me once more.

Hobbs’ head jerks toward my father, his eyeswidening in surprise. “Sir, I really wouldn’t characterizethem—”

My father raises a hand to silence him.“Although your heart was in the right place, attempting to save onelife at the potential cost of others, including your own, was amistake. Not to mention disobeying Lieutenant Hobbs, your superiorofficer.”

Here it comes. Here it comes.

“However, given the extenuatingcircumstances, what with the storm and the fact that LieutenantHobbs was only onboard the Mayhem in…an advisory role…I seeno reason to punish you.”

His words are drops of rain, light andrefreshing in the heat. Is he really proud of me? An airy thrillzings through my chest, surprising me. Do I still want his pride?For the longest time, it was all I ever wanted, all I everneeded—to be forgiven for failing him, for failing my mother. Butknowing what I know now, I shouldn’t want his pride, shouldn’t needit. And yet…I can’t help but bask in it.

“In fact, you shall be rewarded,” hecontinues.

Rewarded? Surely, this can’t be. He’snever rewarded me for anything. I wait in eager anticipation.

“Sir, I really must obj—”

“Shut it, Hobbs,” my father says, and I grin,enjoying the way Hobbs’ frustration is growing red on his face.

“Given the strain and the danger that thisbilge rat girl has put you through, there is only one reward thatis appropriate under the circumstances.” His tone has changed andmy smile fades away. I’ve seen that look on his face before,malicious and absolute, full of hard lines and blazing eyes.

“You, Lieutenant Jones, shall carry out thepunishment on the prisoner.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Sadie

Gard’s asleep whenwe bring the prisoners, but snaps awake in an instant when we rousehim. In the scant light, the dark parts of his eyes are huge, justthin circles of white surrounding them.

He orders us to take the prisoners to anempty, rarely used tent. The prison tent. During a few of thebattles with the Soakers growing up, one or two of the enemy wouldbe captured, rather than killed. According to Mother, it wasn’t ourfirst preference, but it still happened.

We used to hear their cries light up thenight as they were tortured for information on the Soakers’ futureplans.

We push the prisoners inside the empty tent,their arms tied tightly behind them. We’ve lashed their feettogether, too, so they can only take small half-steps. For goodmeasure they’re tethered to each other. If they try to escapethey’ll be dead in an instant.

The inside of the tent is bare, save for athick pole ru

Gard storms in, Remy in tow.

Although the war leader’s giant form has tobe intimidating to the two foreigners, they don’t show it, justwatch him with what appears to be a mix of anger and interest.

I meet Remy’s eyes. Well done, hemouths. I respond with a nod.

While we stand at attention and watch, Gardpaces back and forth in front of the prisoners, his boots stompingthe dirt floor, his black robe swirling around his feet, making himappear even larger.

The one called Feve—who I can see, in thelight of the torches planted inside the tent, has strange darkmarkings curling from inside his shirt and around his neck—furrowshis brows deeper with each of Gard’s stomps. Dazz’s hands areclenched tightly in his lap, his knuckles white and blotched withred. Why have they come? They look poised to fight, but if thatwere the case, why would they surrender themselves?