Page 46 of Rebel in the Deep

I rear back as if he reached out and slapped me. “Forgive the fuck out of me if I prioritize the people I care about over strangers.”

Bowen shakes his head. “That might be what you tell yourself, but it’s not the truth. You help strangers all the damn time, Nox. That’s what the rebellion is, and you realized it long before I did. That’s why you just risked killing yourself to save Kanghri. I can do no less.”

It feels like he just stripped away all my defenses in a few sentences. Damn him for seeing me so clearly. Damn him for being a good man who is part of my crew. “You should know better than to fight against impossible odds.”

He gives a thin smile. “I learned it from my captain.”

Gods, I hope he can pull this off. Fear is a live thing inside me, but this big bastard is right. We have to try, to keep trying,even if it means we burn ourselves to ash in the process. I find myself grinning back at Bowen, just as fiercely. “This captain of yours must be brilliant and inspiring.”

“They certainly think so.”

“Done.” Evelyn turns fully around and, without hesitation, creates a secondary circle next to the amplification one. In less stressful times, I enjoy watching her put these together. Her chalk becomes an extension of her arm, her wrist fluid as she draws out the symbols that will wrestle the magic into following her will. Right now, though, it’s everything I can do not to tell her to hurry. She knows. She is. And yet we’re still running out of time.

It’s probably a bare three minutes after she starts the second circle that she finishes, but it feels like eternity. Evelyn pulls out a small knife and pricks her finger. She looks at Bowen. “My shield can’t cover you fully—otherwise it’ll block you in. You’re going to take some damage, but the moment you look like you’re in actual danger, I’m extending my shield to cover you and to hell with anyone else.”

“No, you’re not.” He withdraws his own knife and creates a shallow slash over his forearm as he steps into the amplification circle. I know what it feels like to use one, a dizzying descent and even stronger vertigo as you rise back up, with all your power trailing behind you. There’s a reason they’re dangerous. There’s a reason they aren’t used often, even by those who rely on rituals to cast. They can drain you faster than you can drain yourself naturally. Even with Bowen’s deep reserves.

I knew that when I stepped into the amplification circle on the ship, but it’s one thing to risk myself. It’s entirely another to watch one of my people knowingly put themself into danger.

“All right. Everyone in the circle.”

Bastian lends his arm to Dia, guiding her to the circle despite the fact that she looks spryer than he does currently. I stand behind Evelyn and slightly to the side, the better to keep my attention on Bowen and, in the distance, Kanghri. “We’re ready.”

Evelyn plants her hands on the circle and there’s a strange sensation as if something just tugged on my stomach. Her shield pops up around us, holding off the acid rain. At the same time, Bowen’s blood hits the amplification circle and everything…stops.

Sound. Movement. Everything.

I’m crouched on the ground with no memory of moving. I slowly lower my arms, staring up at thousands upon thousands of acid raindrops held in place. Above us, the storm clouds still circle, obviously outside of even Bowen’s impressive range, but closer to the ground, not a single drop makes contact. Not as far as I can see. It’s terrifying. It’s exhilarating.

I should have told him to blow Morgan’s ship out of the water after we rescued Bastian. With her wards and crew, maybe it wouldn’t have been possible, but Bowen’s magic runs so deep. It might have killed him, but then we would have one less enemy.

But that’s not an equation I’ll ever accept. Bowen is a member of my crew, valuable and human and loved, a vital part of my community. We don’t throw away lives. That’s the thing we’re fighting against.

I recognize I can’t save everyone, but it’s not going to stop me from trying.

I hate that he’s in this fight on his own, but he’s winning. He’s doing it. Hope flourishes in my chest, but before it can take root…the drops quiver.

At first, I think it’s a trick of my eyesight, my gaze trying to correct something that absolutely cannot be natural. But then it happens again, the drops shifting downward. More come, and more yet, until the sky is filled with deadly liquid, a veritable sea above our heads.

“Fuck,” I breathe. Stopping the storm is one thing, but at some point that acid has to go somewhere. There’s no safe place to deposit it. Not the land, not the city, certainly not the ocean. The loss of life would be catastrophic.

How the fuck is Morrigan explaining this to the Council? This is no targeted attack; this is wholesale slaughter. Even if we spare the people now, we’re going to decimate their fishing waters, their main source of food. They will become reliant on trade that they have no resources to accommodate. And if we hadn’t saved them, the runoff would accomplish the same fucking thing, in addition to all the human lives lost.

The devastation we’re looking at boggles my mind. Siobhan is following my same train of thought. She grabs my shoulder, but her words are for Bowen. “There’s a rock canyon about a mile west of us. It’s north of the city, entirely encased. There’s no runoff to drinking water or the sea. Send it there.”

“How the fuck do you know that?” I say under my breath.

“I’m the leader of the rebellion, and I’ve spent nearly half my life in various forms of hiding. You don’t run an organization like this without having all the information you can possibly have at your disposal.”

I can’t imagine a scenario where an enclosed rock canyon would become useful, but then I never would’ve imagined a scenario where we’d be looking at a sea of acid over our heads, held in shivering place by a single man’s power. I look to Bowen. Every muscle stands out in sharp relief. He shakes, fighting against the force of gravity and Bull’s power. He has to release his magic soon. It’s draining too quickly.

“Bowen! The canyon!”

“I heard,” he grits out. “But he’s still sending rain.”

“Oh, you bloody fool.” Evelyn makes a sound impressively like a snarl. “Don’t you dare die out of pure stubbornness. Send what you can. He’s not going to be able to maintain this level of attack forever—and neither are you.”

Bowen makes a pained sound and weaves in place. At first, I think he’s going down, and I tense, ready to grab him and pull him to the relative safety of our shield, but then I realize he’s moving the liquid overhead in the direction that Siobhan indicated.

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