Water & Storm Country

My eyes flash open, searching for the truthin my father’s eyes. Goodbyes? Courage? It wasn’t to meetyou. Then why…?

Something breaks inside me—a barrier or abone or my very heart. And I remember.

I remember.

(I don’t want to, but I do.)

Mother’s at the railing, not looking out overthe water like she normally does, but straight down, into thedepths of the Deep Blue. Her whole body seems tired, slumped, likeher skin’s hanging limply from her bones. She doesn’t hear mecoming. Doesn’t look back at me. There is no wave, no unexpectedlurch of the ship.

She swings a leg over the railing, and I knowexactly what’s happening. Despite my long-held childish beliefsthat everything’s going to be okay, that we’re a happy family, Iknow deep in the throes of my soul that nothing’s okay. I’ve heardthe arguing, the fighting; I’ve seen the bruises and the welts, thedays when she can’t show her black-eyed face above deck.

Like in my memory, I run, but not to save mymother from a tragic accident caused by a rogue wave and a randomloss of balance…but from herself.

She’s going to kill herself.

No, she does kill herself. And it’s not myfault, not really, but still it is, because I’m too slow—sopathetically slow—that when I reach her she’s already gone, intothe salt and the spray and the battling fins.

In my memories, I meet my father’s glare andfinally, I know. He’s not angry at me, but at her—at my mother. Forwhat?

“Father, why?” I say, still in the memory,forcing a question at his narrowed eyes and tight lips.

But I’ve spoken it out loud in the present,too, and my father grips my shoulder, chasing away the memory witha squeeze. “She left us,” he says. “She left us both.”

And then I’m crying into his shoulder, cryingso hard it burns my eyes and strains at my muscles.

He suffers me for a while, his arm stiff anduncomfortable around me, but finally says, “And that’s why you needto take a wife from ice country.”

I stop crying suddenly, pull away from him.“Mother’s death has nothing to do with who I marry,” I say, wipingat my face with my sleeve.

“Your mother was a hard woman. Disobedient.Like that bilge rat girl of yours. You need someone who will do asthey’re told, obey you, support you in all things.”

“Don’t speak ill of my mother, or Jade,” Isay, feeling a sudden urge to lash out, to hit him, regardless ofthe consequences. I hold my hands firmly against my hips, shockedat my own impulses. I’ve never had thoughts like these before. I’mchanging…

But why? And do I want to?

I look away from him, wishing he’ddisappear.

His hand is on my throat in an instant,squeezing hard enough to make breathing difficult, but not enoughto cut it off entirely. “From this point on, you will do as you’retold. Until I die, I’m still the admiral of this fleet and yourcommander. You will whip that girl, you will leavethis ship, and you will take a wife from ice country.”

He throws me to the deck and stomps away,leaving me gasping and clutching at my neck, just as the sky beginsto turn pink on the horizon.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Sadie

Although I think weall trust the foreigners—probably more than we should—they remaintied in the tent as a matter of prudence, and so they don’tfrighten the rest of the camp. Only Riders are permitted to seethem. When the time comes to fight, they’ll be fitted with weaponsand, only then, set free.

I don’t know quite how I feel about it, butI’m not dissatisfied with the result. Not when their appearance hasfinally set in motion the future predicted by my father. My future,my destiny—one that will give me the opportunity for vengeance.

Preparing for war isn’t difficult or timeconsuming, not when you’ve waged war your entire life. The horsesare armored with thick skins. Swords and knives are sharpened.Extra food rations are allotted to each Rider.

But are the new Rider’s ready? Are the horsesready? Will Passion and Bolt and the other new horses run towardviolence when it’s asked of them? Or will they run away, backtoward safety?

We won’t truly know until the time comes,when death stares us in the face in the form of the sword-wieldingSoakers. We can only hope the limited training has been enough andthat Mother Earth will protect us.

Until then, there’s nothing to do butwait.

I hate waiting, because it means I have timeto think by the Big Fire. Far too much time.

I’m thankful when Remy drops in beside me,his presence instantly calming my frayed nerves.

“Can you believe they thought Gard wantedthat guy’s sister to marry me?” he says, a smile playing on hislips.

I smile back. “You only wish it were thateasy to find a wife,” I say.

He laughs. “True. The type of girl I’minterested in is much more of a challenge.” His words are as lightas the air, but I find myself breathless, almost like when I firstspoke to him in the stables. It seems like so long ago. A lifetime.No, three lifetimes: my mother’s and father’s, and hiscousin’s.

I gulp down a breath and say, “Really? Anyonein particular in mind?”

His eyes dance with laughter, although hekeeps his lips straight. “Well, there is this Healerapprentice on the east side of camp,” he says.

“Oh,” I say, unable to stop the word fromspilling out. I flush, turn away, try to hide the embarrassmentthat surely stains my cheeks.

“I’m kidding,” Remy says, laughing with hiswhole body. He touches my arm, his fingers burning into my skin.“I’ve only ever thought of you in that way.”

~~~

After Remy’s mad and unexpected declaration,I take my leave, making some excuse about having to water Passion,even though I already watered her three times.

I walk alone, my mind spi

The Rider on guard looks at me curiously.“Sadie?” she says.

“I want to see the prisoners,” I sayu

I step inside, my eyes quickly adjusting tothe darker tent-filtered lighting within. Feve and Dazz stare atme. The ski

“The one who would stab first and askquestions later,” Dazz says, but it’s not an insult, just ajoke.

I allow myself a thin smile. “Says the onewho would walk into an enemy camp demanding answers.”

“We got them, didn’t we?”

Something tells me his cavalier attitude hascarried him this far and he won’t abandon it anytime soon. I strideinside, allowing my robe to whirl around me the way my mother’salways did.

I move past Feve, settle in front of theski

“Siena,” she says. “I’ll take a bundle ofpointers and a tight-strung bow.”

I laugh. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen. Old enough to have a kid but I’llskip that if it’s all the same to you.”

I almost choke on her words. Old enough for achild? Having a family of my own is the last thing on my mind. Isay, “I’m nearly sixteen. And I’ll skip the kid for now too. You’llget your bow and arrows—I promise.”

“I’m Skye,” her sister says. “I’d shake yerhand, but seein’ as how mine’s tied to a pole…”

“I’m not going to untie you,” I say. “Can youfight?”

“Like nothing you ain’t ever seen,” Sienasays, answering for her.

“We’ll see about that,” I say. But inside I’mthinking, If not for the color of their skin, which is threeshades too light, these two could be my sisters.