Page 21 of Rebel in the Deep

“She is. More than you know.” There’s something almostlike panic in her dark eyes. She looks from one of us to the other, her shoulders dropping in defeat. “She is—I am—Cwn Annwn.”

I blink. “No, you’re not. You’ve never sailed for them.”

“I don’t mean thosepretenders.” She makes a motion like she might spit, but aborts it halfway through. “I mean the true Cwn Annwn, the ones those fucking parasites stole their name from. Most of the records about the originals have been lost over the centuries, but theydidexist. I’m proof of that.”

I run her words back, but they don’t make any more sense the second time through. “But…that doesn’t make any sense. You’re from a noble family that has been in Lyari for generations. If your ancestors were the real Cwn Annwn, then why doesn’t anyone know it? Why hasn’t Morrigan used that fact to propel her right to the top of the Council instead of sailing about, playing pirate?”

Nox rolls their eyes. “Because they would have been wiped off the face of Threshold. You think the Council is going to let anything threaten their death grip on Threshold? Not even Morrigan can stand against them alone.”

I open my mouth to deny it, but…they’re right. The Council bets on being the most powerful thing in Threshold, able to command thousands of ships. It’s an uneasy balancing act, though, because at this point most of the crews are filled with refugees.

Therearevolunteers, of course, but no one comments on the fact that Lyari locals are disproportionately represented among them. The people of Lyari see it as something noble and exciting. The rest of Threshold, though? All the islands that never asked to be under the Council’s rule? All the people who areterrorized by the unruly crews? They don’t volunteer. They never have.

More than that, the original Cwn Annwn have risen to become something akin to gods for us. There are statues of them in Lyari, people pray to them—though it’s fallen out of favor in recent generations. If the originals were able to just…show up…it would change everything. The Cwn Annwn would be forced to stop co-opting their name and reputation, perverting it in the pursuit of more power in order to provideprotectionno one asked for.

Nox drags their hand through their hair. “Look, we all know how little I like the idea of war, but tonight changed things. We can’t keep running, Siobhan. We sure as fuck can’t hide. The only thing left to do is to decide how we fight.”

Siobhan drops her head into her hands. “I hate this. More people are going to die.”

Nox and I exchange a look of perfect understanding. It’s strange how even with all the distance and time between us, I stillknowthem. Siobhan won’t come around tonight, but the fact that she’s not arguing means shewillcome around. Now’s the time to let her think, to process, to come to the same conclusion Nox and I obviously have.

We’re going to war.

“That’s enough for tonight,” Nox finally says.

Siobhan doesn’t speak another word; she just storms out of the cabin and slams the door behind her. I should follow her, should try to talk to her. Her instinct to dig in her heels has kept her alive for a long time, but she’s hurting and our history means I know what to say to fix it. Or at least push it away until it’s manageable.

But Nox holds up a hand before I can make a move. “We might as well get this out of the way to avoid things being awkward. Are you going to have a problem taking orders from me?”

I can’t stop myself from smirking. “When have I ever had problems taking orders from you?”

“Don’t do that.” They hold my gaze until it’s uncomfortable, their pale eyes giving me nothing. “Don’t flirt with me as if we don’t have a particularly painful history. It’s cruel.”

I duck my head before I can think better of it. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“And yet.” There’s a wealth of history in those two words.

“Yeah.” I sigh. “And yet.”

“I have one question, and I would like an honest answer.”

I already know I’m not going to like it—and that they won’t like the answer—but I nod. “Sure. Whatever you need to know.”

Nox parts their lips, hesitant in a way that hurts my heart. The Nox I know, both personally and, later, through reputation, is never hesitant. They are bold and brash and fearless. They finally say, “How long?”

I know what they mean, but I can’t stop myself from parroting their words. “How long?”

“How long after you told me that your life and home and everything were in Lyari did you sail away from the city with Siobhan?”

I suck in a harsh breath. It’s the question I didn’t want to hear because the answer will hurt them, will add to the pain I’ve already caused them. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I don’t really carewhatit was like. I heard all your arguments on why you couldn’t leave your family behind. Even afterall this time, I could probably recite them from memory.” They meet my gaze steadily. “I want the answer.”

I hate this. I hate that little fool I was, who didn’t appreciate or acknowledge how valuable the person he cared about was. “I was afraid, Nox. I was twenty-one, and it all felt very exciting when we dreamed about a future together, paving our own way, but I knew my family would cut me off.”

“Bastian.” They say my name on a sigh. “Please.”

Ancient history has no business hurting as much as the confession rattling around in my chest. “A year.”

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