Grace and Fury (Grace and Fury #1)(59)

Jacana shrugged. “But what can we do? We can’t all submit. Like Oracle said, the guards would just kill us themselves.”

Serina watched the waves slide toward her and suck back out to sea. “What would the guards do,” she mused, “if no one went to the fights? If we just stayed away?”

Jacana rubbed her chin. “I guess they would come for us?”

“But are there enough of them?” Serina asked. “They have firearms, but there are hundreds of us and only about forty of them. And we know this island. They don’t. They stay in their concrete and barbed-wire towers, hardly patrol.…”

“But if we stay away from the fights, that doesn’t get us the food,” Jacana said softly. “There isn’t enough on the island for everyone to eat. You know that. We’d starve.”

Serina rubbed at her eyes. “You’re right.” But she couldn’t stop trying to think of a way out. “Maybe we revolt when a ship comes in, take over the ship, and escape.”

“Is that more realistic than a raft?” Jacana asked softly.

“Nothing is realistic,” Serina admitted. But she couldn’t let it go. “No matter what the plan is, it starts with getting the crews to talk to each other. Finding common ground. Maybe sharing the food we do have.”

“Without letting the guards know we’re doing it,” Jacana interjected. She glanced over her shoulder again, as if someone might come along to spy on them.

“If they knew we were conspiring together, they’d find ways to drive us apart.” Serina thought of the Commander, his eyes narrowed with cruelty. She was sure he would think of plenty of ways to make them pay.

“So how do we get the crews to talk to each other?” Jacana tucked her hair behind her ears. A fading bruise yellowed her jaw, a vestige of training. Serina’s whole body ached from the fight.

“Emissaries,” Serina said, the word evoking memories of the palace. “If Oracle were to send a couple girls to each crew, just to start a conversation… maybe they could take some kind of peace offering—a little food or extra water. If Cave crew shows they’re willing to endure hardship for the greater good—”

“The others might be more willing to hear us out. Maybe even trust us,” Jacana finished. A little light came back into her eyes.

“Yes,” Serina said. Maybe just focusing on the tiniest of first steps, rather than the ultimate goal, was best. “But I don’t think Oracle will go for it. She won’t risk her crew.”

Jacana rubbed her hands along the tops of her legs and then stood up, slipping her sandy feet into her shoes. “I’ll talk to her. Most of the crew was angry at what you said, but some of them agreed with you. I agree with you. There are a lot of us who know we’ll die when we go to the ring. And some of us would rather take our chances trying to find a way out. Maybe there’s enough of us to force Oracle’s hand.”

“She’s going to hate me,” Serina said, dropping her head to her hands. She respected Oracle—she never set out to oppose her.

Jacana let out a wispy laugh. “I’m sorry, Grace. I think she already does.”

Serina stood up too, clasping the flagon to her chest. “If she changes her mind, if there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

Jacana tilted her head. “Maybe… maybe you could try talking to the other clans yourself? You believe in it. It might mean more coming from you.”

“Maybe.” Serina rubbed the back of her neck. “If the other crews don’t kill me. They’ll probably think I’m trying to steal food, won’t give me a chance to explain.”

“True. But they saw you last night, making your stand. They might listen.” Jacana smiled, but her green eyes were red rimmed and sad. She squeezed Serina in a quick, tight hug. “Be careful. Mirror said the guards like to go hunting for banished girls. Without crews to protect them…” Her voice faded.

Serina’s jaw tightened. “Thanks for the warning. And the water. You be careful too.”

She watched until the girl disappeared into a patch of straggly trees. The sun was strong, pouring heat onto her shoulders, and she was grateful for the water.

She moved to the cave to wait out the heat of the day. Her stomach ached with emptiness and fear.

At some point, she drifted into an uneasy sleep, nightmares of the fight, of Anika’s determined frown, jerking her awake. She dreamt of Nomi too, locked in an embrace with Malachi, golden chains wrapped around her throat. Help me, her sister whispered, over and over. But Serina’s hands were chained too, and her legs wouldn’t move. The harder she tried to get to her sister, the tighter her restraints became.

The man holding Nomi looked up at Serina at last, and it wasn’t the Heir. It was Commander Ricci. And he was laughing.

Serina woke, sticky with sweat, tears streaming down her face.

You believe in it.

Jacana’s voice slowly drowned out her nightmares. Maybe it was Serina’s hunger making her delusional, but suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a foolish idea. Going to the other crews… making her case for a revolt.… A whisper of hope flowed through her. Maybe she could convince them to unite. Even one crew working with the Cave could make a revolt.

And she knew which crew to start with.