Queen of Ruin (Grace and Fury)

by Tracy Banghart

  Serina watched the crowd as Anika gave her speech. A couple of the women shook their heads, and a few looked scared, but everyone was listening. Even Fox. They all heard what Anika was saying.

  “We’ve come here tonight to vote,” Serina announced. “You can vote to stay, to go to Azura, or to fight. Anika is right—we can’t split our focus. There will only be one boat, so whatever the majority decides, all of us must commit to it.”

  Serina sent up a little prayer.

  “Who wants to stay on Mount Ruin?” Nomi asked.

  Serina counted hands. Only a few were raised, mostly the older women and the ones who’d been here the longest. She was surprised to see Ember’s hand go up. Serina had expected her to want to fight, to get revenge for Oracle’s death.

  “Fourteen,” she stated.

  “Who wants to go to Azura?” Val called.

  A new set of hands went up. Maris and Helena. Fox and most of Jungle Camp. There were a lot of hands, more than Serina had expected. It took her a long time to count.

  Her stomach turned over. She glanced at Nomi; her sister was frowning, her own hands balled into fists at her sides. Malachi’s face was blank.

  “Eighty-two,” she said, her heart pounding. She paused for a moment to steady her nerves. “Now, who wants to fight back?”

  This was it.

  To Serina’s surprise, Mirror raised her hand. She must have changed her mind. Cliff raised her hand too, and Anika. Many of the women voted to fight.

  “Sixty.”

  But not enough.

  A numb disbelief crept through Serina. She felt Nomi sag beside her. Her own shoulders wanted to slump, but she held herself rigidly upright. The whole point had been to give these women a choice.

  “The vote is clear. When the boat comes, we’ll commandeer it and seek asylum in Azura.” Serina tried to hold her voice steady, even as her hopes for Renzo’s safety, for a new future for the women of Viridia, died.

  EIGHT

  NOMI

  NOMI PACED TO the edge of the dais and back, her jaw aching from the force with which she clenched her teeth. Her future, Renzo’s future, crumbled to dust before her. For four days, she’d let herself believe that it was possible to have all that she wanted—freedom, Renzo’s safety, her family back together.

  She couldn’t bear to look at Malachi. Everything he wanted, everything he deserved, was beyond his grasp now too.

  The amphitheater filled with a clatter of voices. Arguments broke out.

  “I’m tired of fighting.”

  “You’re tired? I’m angry. Those bastards deserve our wrath.”

  “I don’t trust the Heir. He’ll break every promise he makes. What man do you know who’s ever kept one?”

  “My father. He promised to send me here if I refused to work at the factory. And here I am. If we don’t fight back, nothing will ever change.”

  “I don’t care about change. All I want is a soft bed and fresh food. I don’t care if I ever see Viridia again.”

  Nomi couldn’t stand it.

  Just beyond the stage, Anika pounded her fist on her thigh. “We should go to Bellaqua. This is ridiculous. Fleeing our own country. Our families. Ridiculous.”

  “The vote was fair,” Serina told her softly, her own disappointment showing in her furrowed brow. “We have to honor the results.”

  Nomi pulled her sister away from the crowd, noting Val and Malachi’s heads tipped close together in their own private conversation.

  “Nomi, there’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry,” Serina said. She was wearing her stoic big-sister face, but Nomi could see through to the dejection beneath.

  “What about Renzo?” Nomi asked. “We can’t go to Azura and leave him behind.”

  Her stomach churned. She couldn’t tell if she was about to retch or scream. She’d supported the vote, of course she had. She’d wanted to give these women a choice. But she’d been so sure they would vote to go back to Viridia and stop Asa.

  Serina pressed her fingers to her temples and massaged in small circles. “We’ll have to take Val’s boat, I suppose. But there will be others who want it.… Anika wants to return to her family.… We’ll have to be quiet about it, I don’t know how.”

  “Serina, you can’t leave,” Nomi said. She clutched at her belly, willing her twisted nerves to relax. “Not now. You’re the leader here. These women are trusting you to get them to Azura safely.”

  “We could all go to Azura,” Serina offered. “Then go back for Renzo from there. Take a small crew maybe, people like Anika who want to go back.”

  With regret, Nomi shook her head. “No. It’ll take too long. We can’t do that. But you can’t leave them.”

  Serina shrugged miserably. “And you can’t take Val’s boat alone.”

  “No. She can’t. Because I will be,” Malachi said shortly, approaching them. Nomi stared up at him, shock widening her eyes.

  He was healing well from his wounds, but he was in no shape to be walking around. His face had lost most of its color and he moved stiffly, as if every joint hurt. He needed to rest. “I’m going to Porto Rosa, to a regiment that might be loyal to me.”

  “That is not your boat to take,” Serina snapped. “You’ve no—”

  “Serina, he’s the rightful Superior,” Val said gently, coming up beside them. “He’s worried he’ll find little support in Azura if he comes with us. But if he can find troops loyal to him in Viridia, he may be able to stage a rebellion after all. We can’t deny him that chance.”

  “Yes, we can,” Serina countered obstinately. “It’s your boat. You can do what you like with it. He can’t just come in here and demand things, like every other—”

  “I’ll go with him,” Nomi broke in, without giving herself time to think. “I’ll make sure Renzo is okay.”

  Malachi immediately shook his head. “Absolutely not. I mean to wage war, Nomi.”

  “You can barely walk,” she retorted, her voice—and resolve—strengthening. “You can’t sail a boat on your own, not in your condition. I’ll help you get to Porto Rosa, and in return, you’ll help me save Renzo. You must promise to protect him should your gambit succeed, just as we discussed before.”

  His lips thinned. “I don’t need—”

  “What?” she interrupted, her own hackles rising. “You don’t need help? You were willing to accept the aid of the women of Mount Ruin only moments ago. I may not be useful in a war, but I can help you survive long enough to fight one.”

  “It’s dangerous, Nomi,” he said, something changing in his expression. His brows drew together. “Too dangerous.”

  “And that is a result of my error in judgment,” she said, refusing to back down. “My brother’s life is at risk because of me. Your predicament is my fault as well. These are my wrongs to right, Malachi. You must let me accompany you. You must.”

  He looked at her for a long moment.

  Nomi’s throat slowly closed. The truth was, she wanted to go to Azura with Serina. She wanted to get as far from Asa—and from Malachi’s piercing gaze—as she could. But she would not leave her family behind.

  “As you wish,” he said at last, and all the breath left her body. “But we must leave soon. Tomorrow.”

  That night, Nomi fell asleep with her hand curled into Serina’s braid, both of them huddled close together on a pallet in the far corner of the infirmary, near Malachi and Val.

  Long after Serina’s breath had deepened into sleep, Nomi finally drifted off herself. And dreamed of Asa, his smile dripping blood and his hands clenched at her waist, pulling her closer. Closer. Bending to kiss her with blood-soaked lips—

  “Nomi! Nomi!”

  Nomi woke to Serina shaking her.

  “You were screaming again,” Serina said.

  “S-sorry,” Nomi mumbled, trying the shake the image of Asa’s ghoulish grin from her mind.

  Soon dawn brightened the doorway, and they all rose, bleary-eyed and quiet.

  Val disappeared f
or a few minutes, returning with the news that the tide would be out in a few hours. “We need to leave soon. It’s a long hike to the boat.”

  Nomi’s heart seized. She’d thought she’d have more of the day with Serina. Unbidden, her brain grasped for excuses to hold off their departure. But she knew Malachi would not consent to waiting.

  Serina met her eyes, staring as if memorizing her features. Nomi felt the shape of a similar expression on her own face. They’d only just found each other—this new parting threatened to tear apart every shred of Nomi’s resolve.

  But she couldn’t love Serina without loving Renzo. She couldn’t forget the rest of her family just because she’d found her sister.

  “I should come with you,” Serina said again, for maybe the hundredth time.

  “But you can’t,” Nomi reminded her again. “We’ve gone through it. You and Val must negotiate with Azura for the safety of all the women here. And if Malachi and I fail, you’ll be Renzo’s only hope. I’ll send a letter to Papa for Renzo. I’ll tell him to go to Azura and find you. It won’t work if you’re not there, you know that.”

  Serina stared down at the burlap sack—an old rations bag—they were packing together. “We spent so long apart, and now…”

  And now it was more time, more distance.

  Nomi’s heart shuddered. She wanted to hold on to Serina and never let her go. She wanted to tell her that she should come. Or that they should both stay here and wait for the prison boat. But Nomi had spent her life watching Serina do her duty. Her sister had always faced her fate with serenity. Now it was Nomi’s turn.

  “You need more water,” Serina said, her voice thick with tears. “I’ll get another flagon.”

  “Thank you.” Nomi watched her leave the infirmary, her stomach tight.

  Nomi glanced over at Malachi, automatically noting his color, whether he winced when he moved.

  “Do you feel up for the hike?” she asked.

  “Of course.” His sharp jaw tightened. Dark circles still clung beneath his eyes, but his intensity was back, as vibrant and terrifying as ever.

  “Of course,” she echoed sarcastically under her breath. He still thought he could accomplish this task without her, yet he could hardly bend over without whimpering.

  “Nomi…” he started, his expression softening, but at that moment Maris arrived, and he turned away to focus on his own burlap sack.

  “Your sister said you’re about to leave,” Maris said. Helena was a few steps behind her. Nomi hadn’t seen the two apart since their reunion.

  Nomi nodded.

  “Good. We wanted to walk with you to the boat.” Maris had trimmed her long black hair to her shoulders and kept it tucked neatly behind her ears. She was so at ease now, more so than she’d ever looked in the palazzo. Helena smiled calmly, her blue eyes brightening every time her gaze shifted to Maris. There was no need for them to hide their feelings here, no sneaking around as they’d done before Maris had been selected as a Grace. This was the one place in all of Viridia that Maris and Helena could be themselves.

  Serina returned with several extra flagons, and Val with a pair of boots for Malachi. Serina had already found boots for a lot of the women, including Nomi. They were too big, but Nomi had stuffed scraps of fabric in the toes so she could walk.

  She readjusted the burlap sack over her shoulder. Her stomach churned with nerves. She was scared to leave Serina. Scared to get on a small boat with Malachi. Scared of what would happen when Malachi challenged Asa. Scared Renzo was already dead.

  And what about Serina, when the prison boat came? What if their plan to overpower the guards didn’t work? Nomi took a deep breath and tried to calm her mind.

  Their little group—Val, Malachi, Serina, Maris, and Helena—snaked up the path to the north, along the rim of the island.

  “Do you think there will ever come a time when I’m not juggling a hundred different fears at once?” Nomi asked Serina quietly as they walked.

  “I hope so. But in the meantime, maybe this will help with a few of them.” Serina paused to draw a small but wicked homemade knife from her boot.

  Tentatively, Nomi took it. It was thin and sharp and felt like holding violence in her hand. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Whatever you must,” Serina said simply.

  They walked in silence for a while. The hike gave Nomi blisters and a savage headache, but she didn’t hate the physical effort. It felt more productive, at least, than the endless dance lessons and statuesque poses in the palazzo.

  Clouds swept across the sky, providing welcome patches of shade, and the wind this close to the coast helped cool Nomi’s heated cheeks. She could see the wink of the ocean through the trees, and the smoky haze of the volcano in the distance.

  She glanced back often to assess Malachi’s progress; so far he was keeping up, though his face looked haggard and sweat-slicked and he kept a hand on his injured side.

  She thought about asking him if he was okay, but assumed she’d only get a gruff of course. He held on to his pride as tightly as he did his wound.

  But she did check on Maris and Helena, who brought up the rear.

  “You didn’t have to come,” she said. “It’s a long hike.”

  Maris shrugged.

  Helena said, “I thought we’d collect some pox berries on the way back. We can tip our blades with their poison—it might give us an advantage in our fight for the boat.”

  Nomi rubbed away the sudden chill from her arms.

  “Will you be okay here?” Nomi asked Maris. They scrambled over a rock fall, using their hands to push themselves up. Maris wasn’t trained for battle, not like these girls.

  “I’ll be fine,” Maris said. “I’m happier here than I ever was at the palazzo.” But a shadow passed across her face.

  “What is it?” Nomi asked.

  Maris brushed the dirt off her hands. “It’s nothing. I just… I keep thinking about Cassia. All the Graces, really. Rosario said that if a Superior dies, the Heir decides their fate. That means Asa decides for them.”

  A new chain of guilt wrapped itself around Nomi’s chest. She hadn’t even thought about Cassia and the others. About Angeline, the sweet handmaiden who’d helped her after Serina was taken away. “Surely he’ll send them home. And I… I suppose choose his own.” He’d told her he didn’t want Graces, that he wanted a queen. Just another of his lies to ensnare her. He was probably thrilled at the prospect of his own Graces.

  “The poor girls,” Maris said, her face a storm cloud.

  Nomi thought about the way Asa had charmed her. Disarmed her.

  Used her.

  “Yes.”

  At the head of the line, Val stopped. They all gathered in the shade of a scrubby stand of trees. “Short break,” he said. He didn’t look at Malachi, but Nomi did. The Heir was struggling. But he was still upright, and he took the water Val offered gratefully.

  They arrived at the north beach a short time later. Val passed the broken husk of a grounded ship Serina said Beach crew used as their home; it was empty, truly abandoned, now that the crew had moved down to Hotel Misery.

  They picked their way across the black sand to a spot where old lava poured out in a frozen outcropping, artificially extending the shoreline. Val clambered across the rock to a crevice that would be hidden at high tide. Deep inside, his small sailboat waited.

  Serina and Helena helped him drag it out. Malachi went through his supplies one more time. Nomi hugged Maris, her heart thudding painfully.

  Then the boat was bobbing on the water, Malachi had boarded and hoisted the sail, and Serina stood on the sand before Nomi.

  It was time to say goodbye.

  NINE

  SERINA

  SERINA COULDN’T BEAR it. Her baby sister was putting herself in danger, and the only thing Serina could do for her was give her a knife she didn’t know how to use.

  She hugged Nomi tightly, ignoring the searing pain of her broken rib. Within the
circle of her arms, her sister felt too small, too delicate for this journey. And Malachi, big, hulking Malachi… Would he keep her safe? What if he betrayed her just like his brother had?

  Serina had studied him over the past few days, had watched how he spoke to Nomi. He was gruff and short with everyone, but sometimes she caught him looking at Nomi and his face changed. The tension eased. It was that expression… that softening… she was choosing to trust.

  “Journey well, little sister,” she murmured into Nomi’s hair. “Take care of yourself.”

  “You too,” Nomi replied, her voice thick with tears. “Don’t take risks, Serina, you understand? I need you to make it to Azura. I’ll send word as soon as it’s safe for you to return. Or… or Renzo and I will come to you. But you must be there. You must be safe.”

  Serina nodded, but she couldn’t speak.

  This moment was harder than the last time they’d been pulled apart. They hadn’t known what it meant then. But Serina knew what this meant. It meant her whole family would be out there, the object of the new Superior’s wrath, and Serina still had to let Nomi go.

  With a wrenching pain too near her heart, Serina pulled herself out of Nomi’s embrace.

  “I love you,” she said hoarsely. The harsh sunshine made her squint, surrounding her last view of Nomi with sparks of light.

  Tears streamed down Nomi’s cheeks. “I love you too.”

  Then, before either of them could change their minds, she turned and climbed aboard Val’s boat.

  Serina watched the small boat catch the wind in its sail and slide toward the horizon. She couldn’t keep tears from slipping down her cheeks. It was too much.

  Maris patted her shoulder, then let Helena show her how to collect clams from beneath the wet sand. They both seemed to understand Serina needed a moment before heading back.

  Val stayed close to Serina. He watched the boat too. She wondered if he was thinking about his mother and the reason he’d brought it here to begin with.