Rebel Born (Secondborn #3)(55)

“Ah,” I say, “all fixed.”

Confusion etches lines in Reykin’s brow. He knows I don’t have training in this area.

Maybe I shouldn’t point those things out.

I stroll onto the thick, transparent panels that give us a panoramic view of the underwater terrain. We skim along the bottom of the sea, in a rocky canyon. Its walls rise to skyscraper heights around us as an ancient civilization reveals itself, a kingdom fallen into the sea. Some of it has crumbled to sand. Clinging to the rock are bioluminescent coral, their gentle lights like stars in the night sky.

It could be a city on a distant planet for how different it appears from everything I know. Enormous warrior sculptures lie in broken pieces on the sandy floor. Others still hold their weapons aloft from arching niches in the stone.

“What is this place?” I whisper, watching whorls of sand kick up at the edges of exotic rocks we pass. The ambition of the structures that remain rivals the cutting-edge architecture on dry land.

“We don’t know,” Reykin replies.

“It’s Gildenzear,” Cherno says. “You claimed dominion over all this, Roselle. You gifted it to Cassius for safekeeping.”

“Cassius? The Lord of Raze and Ruin?”

“The same,” Cherno replies.

“Is he fer real?” a familiar voice asks behind me.

Cherno bears his teeth, turns, and growls at the newcomer. “I am authentic.”

That voice. “Edge,” I exhale. Whirling around, I find Edgerton standing by the helm. He stares at Cherno. Trying to read the dragon-man, he tilts his head and squints at him.

Finally, he gives up and turns to me. My long-lost friend. His brown eyes widen, and he grins. “Erebody said you was one of ’em, ’cept me and Hammon,” he says. “We knew if there were a way back from zombieland, you’d find it. Them fools don’t know you like we do.” The brim of his uniform cap dips at a jaunty angle, nearly hiding all his left eyebrow. It gives a criminal cast to his pressed uniform. The ex–Sword soldier’s wiry build has filled out somewhat. He’s still slim and fit, but his cheeks aren’t hollow like they used to be.

“I’m not sure I’ve made it back, Edge,” I manage to say, just above a whisper, trying to hold in my emotions.

He moves forward and, embracing me, lifts me off my feet in a fierce hug. “You may feel lost at sea, Roselle, but we gotcha. We ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you.”

I hug him back with the same fierceness. “What are you even doing here?” I ask when he sets me on my feet.

Edgerton gestures to Reykin. “He set us up in the Fate of Seas, which was a blessin’, but you know I cain’t sit still, which makes me a horrible firstborn. I cain’t pass for an aristocrat, what with my mountain accent and all. It sinks like a stone in the ocean there. I had to get me a job that I could do without lookin’ too suspicious. I were already a pilot, so I learnt to fly underwater ships instead.”

I glance at Reykin. Finding out my friend isn’t just surviving, but thriving, swells my heart with gratitude. “You did that for Edge?” I hold up my hands, indicating the watercraft.

Reykin shakes his head. “I set him up in the Fate of Seas. You can thank Salloway for Edge’s position on this vessel. Salloway contacted Daltrey several months ago, before Census attacked, and told him he wanted to help after he found out that you were okay—after we put you on the vessel deporting from Stars.”

Clifton’s name fills me with remorse. My heart twists and feels broken. I swallow past the growing lump in my throat and nod. “He never told me that.”

“I captain the Sozo One for the Salloway fleet,” Edgerton explains, “which makes the job damn awkward when I’ve been ordered by another friend to avoid the other vessels in the ship’s fleet.” Edgerton looks pointedly at Reykin.

“Roselle needs rest, not an interrogation,” Reykin replies in a low tone.

“Burnin’ bridges ain’t wise,” Edgerton scolds.

“Bridges won’t burn underwater,” Reykin replies with a shrug. “Neither will reprisals.”

“Thermite burns underwater,” Cherno states with an aloof look. Both Reykin and Edgerton scrutinize my bodyguard.

“They weren’t being literal about the bridges, Cherno,” I explain. “They’re arguing about some sort of orders regarding me.”

“No one orders us.” Cherno’s chest puffs out to accompany his hubris. “We are gods.”

“Are you hungry, Roselle?” Reykin asks, smiling. His nearness intoxicates me. I nod. “I’ve made arrangements for Hammon and Edgerton to join us for brunch. Would you like that?”

“Hammon is here, too?”

“Of course my wife’s here,” Edgerton replies. “Where else would she be? She’s on the other end of the vessel, negotiating a trade with another ship.”

A wave of nervous excitement and gratitude washes over me. I hadn’t allowed myself to hope that they’d both survived the massacre of Census Transition Day.

Edgerton throws his arm around my shoulder and hugs me to his side as if we’d never been parted by time or circumstance. “It’s been almost impossible keepin’ my wife away from you so you could rest. The only way was to have Reykin talk to her. She listens to him. When he told her you needed sleep, she agreed to wait. She keeps askin’ me a million questions, though, ’bout you and Hawthorne. I keep explainin’ that I don’t know anythin’ more than her.”