”They’re even trying to recruit men now. They asked Aran to join, could you imagine?” Selma croaked.
”Yeah, those fuckers really thought I’d—what—throw myself at the opportunity to oppress my own people? I told them to fuck right off.”
“They give me the creeps. The way they just stare at you, like you’re a bug they’d like to crush.” Idalie added. ”And they’re instigating violence? Some peace keepers.”
“They’re not peacekeepers,” I muttered. “They’re Vultures.”
“I heard that Devore made a deal with the Eredian army,” Eryx added. “Promised them riches, land and blood.”
“Ourland,” Aran muttered. “But they’re not even wearing our colors. They’re cowards. Just like their king.”
“It’s so fucked how they just killed the royals.” Nora said. ”They’ve no honor.”
I turned to her. “Wait… what? I thought only the king was assassinated.”
Aran’s eyes gleamed in the firelight. “You haven’t heardthe rest?”
I shook my head.
“The queen was butchered in front of her children.” he said. ”Then they made the crown prince run, as they hunted him through the gardens like a dog. And then, they scorched the castle and left all their bodies hanging at the gates as a warning.”
“You know what I think?” Selma declared. “If those bastards are coming for us, I’m not wasting my last night of freedom.”
She grabbed a bottle from the ground and chugged.
“I heard that the resistance is growing,” Will murmured. “There’s a man called the Kraken, they say he took out a whole unit of Vultures. Alone.”
Selma made a sound low in her throat. “Nowthat’sa man.”
Aran stiffened.
“But you’remyman,” she purred, She kissed him, then passed the bottle to him. Aran tipped his head back and drank like it was water. “Fuck it,” he rasped. “I’m not dying sober.”
He passed it to Idalie, and she passed it on to me. It smelled sour and old, like sweaty socks, but I still took a small sip, then passed it on.
“You don’t think he’s real? The Kraken?” Nora asked. “He’s probably just made up.”
“So?” Will said. “We need something to believe in.”
“Believe in this,” Aran growled. “If those bastards come here, I’ll fuck them up. Fuck them up so bad they crawl back to whatever pit they came from.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Nora muttered, raising the bottle.
“Yeah, fuck it,” Eryx added. “Might as well enjoy what’s left.”
He grabbed the fiddle he always dragged around, and scratched out a tune, rough, like he barely remembered it.
One week.
That’s all it had taken. One week to go from futures and plans, to fear, and whispers of rebellion.
Will nudged me with his shoulder. “You good?”
I wondered if he could hear how loud my heart had gotten.
“Yeah,” I said. “Just thinking.”
He smiled. “Dangerous habit.”
