We emerged from our dwelling a little before sundown. The sky above the rim of the horseshoe hazed gold. Below, the horseshoe gathering area was thrown into shadow lit only by the fire in the center. Dragons scurried along the warm black rocks.
“Good nap?” Keryn asked when we came down to the circle. They plucked a morsel of fish and rice from a plate. My stomach rumbled.
I nodded. No sleeping involved, but they don’t need to know that.
“How did you get painted?” I eyed the handprints in purple on their skin.
“Ran a gauntlet, got slapped by every woman in this dragon den,” they chortled. “Took all of ten minutes. You two were gone for hours.”
Embarrassed heat crept over my face at their knowing grin. There are no secrets amongst the Ansi, apparently.
Queen Brenica waved me over. “I trust you are rested from your journey?” Her eyes were bright with amusement.
“Not exactly.”
“Pity. You have an early morning ahead of you, if you intend to accompany your friends.” She passed me a bowl with salted fish balls. I took one, then another. Completely uncouth. They were delicious and I was ravenous. Too hungry to process what she’d said about tomorrow morning.
“You like those. Take them.” She nudged the bowl closer. “Ordinarily, Ansi do not involve ourselves with the affairs of Oceanside. We trade our goods in the city under the pretense of being traveling merchants. We fish in the rocky shallows with our small skiffs, like other Auralians, but we do not concern ourselves with their problems, nor they with ours.”
I helped myself to grilled palm fruit in tamarind sauce, listening.
“Since the war, our preference for privacy is no longer feasible. The grasslands we depended upon for raw materials are decimated. We can live on fruits that grow here in the Boscage and on meat we hunt or fish, but we depend upon the Grasslands District for grain. The sea is infested with pirates who shoot, rape and maim without mercy. Without Oceanside and access to the water, we cannot feed our people.
“Tomorrow, my sons will show you how pirates continue to plague us despite our efforts to chase them off. We need more than a tentative alliance between the people of Oceanside and the Myseci. Our ammunition supplies dwindle by the day. We need a strategy, and we need it soon. Tovian and Raina have looked for every possible solution and nothing has worked to drive them off for good. If you can secure outside assistance, or more powerful weapons, we stand a chance. If not…”
“I understand. I will find a solution.” Somehow. Projecting confidence I don’t feel. “Saskaya has sent us with an experimental weapon to test.”
I could tell it wasn’t the answer Queen Brenica was hoping for. I can’t blame her. Saskaya’s last weapons killed her own sister and trapped me in the castle for a year. I’m skeptical, too.
“Your father made connections among powerful people in the outside world. Politicians. Bankers. People who could help us.”
I take more food—who knew being tied up and licked for hours worked up such an appetite—partly to delay responding.
My father believed that if we could cultivate the right allies, Auralia would be saved. But we are a small island in the middle of a large ocean, with no geopolitical importance, no economy to speak of, and no trade partners. Pirates are everyone and no one’s problem. It’s always someone else’s waters. Another politician’s responsibility. No one was ever coming to rescue us.
We saved ourselves. What made a difference was how the different tribes worked together.
Covari technology set us back. It also saved our best warrior’s life.
Lorcan was right all along. Auralia doesn’t need outsiders. We need to rely on one another.
Saskaya’s people blunted the initial attack, at great cost to their tribe.
Mysec leadership filled the vacuum while I was incapacitated. Raina’s medical training bought time to heal Lorcan, while she and King Myseci coordinated a defense that contained the invaders long enough for him to awaken and physically recover. She and Saskaya saved my life, too.
The Mountain Folk kept the northern end of the island from becoming a second beachhead for the Skía, driving them away from the only other access point.
Ansi knowledge of Oceanside’s terrain enabled our fighters to get close enough to the Skía and their army of pirates, blunting the impact of their technical superiority. Dirt bikes are faster than horses. Guns are deadlier than swords and spears, but if they couldn’t see us, they couldn’t shoot us.
Once we stole enough of their technology to turn the tide, thanks to Lorcan’s daring raids on enemy encampments, our fighters pushed the pirates down the peninsula and back out to sea. The Skía slunk into the shadows once again.
Now, it’s my job to hold this alliance together, ensuring my country is not perceived as a weak mark ripe for opportunists to pluck. To find ways for everyone to prosper. To mend what was broken in the fighting.
I thought about the application for international assistance sitting partially completed in my pack. About the electronic applications for aid I submitted while I was on bed rest and bored, or in Tenáho. A handful of rejections have trickled in.
Outside influences can help, if we use them wisely, but ultimately it was us, working together, that carried the day. Dependence upon foreigners is not the way.
We have everything we need right here.
