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“Ada?” Raf prompts, taking the seat beside me.
He twists on the edge of his chair so he can see Selmar and me with his back pressing against the armrest. His leg bounces for a moment before he stills it and widens his expectant eyes.
I blow a raspberry with my lips, then wonder if these men remember what horses sound like. When I take a deep breath, they glance at each other, sharing concern.
My eyes fall shut as I murmur, “I don’t know if I’m making the right decision.”
“About what?” Raf gently inquires.
“War?” Selmar not-so-delicately suggests.
I nod. “I’m trying to consider other options to avoid a full-out war where the people are harmed... Like spies or a sniper or special ops.”
“Spies, maybe, for research,” Raf agrees. “But there are no guns here, Ada. No special ops like you’re thinking.”
“Right. I’m just trying to look outside the box. I know Nesta has to go, but—” I take another deep breath, filling my lungs until they’re near bursting. “Experiencing death from attacks has given me this... I don’t know what to call it. I wonder if—”
“You’re second guessing yourself?” Selmar speculates, his brow knitting together.
I frown back at him. “Not exactly. I’m confident in what I know of my abilities, but is this right? Do I really want to involve the entire island, Mongrels and all, in war? What of the casualties it would cause? Can it just be Madigan and me?”
“You will not stand alone,” Selmar states, his conviction palpable. “Most wouldn’t let you, even if you wanted to.”
Raf tilts his head as he studies me. “This is the right decision, Ada. The Mongrels know death, but the Shades see it every day. Nesta is greedy and awful. It’s not just something your friend is experiencing.” He turns rigid and stares at the wall. “It’s one thing to be an asshole to enemies or even the woman meant to replace her... But she’s like that with her people, too. The Shades are terrified of her.”
“Even for a doctor, Nesta was horrible.” He rubs his hands across his thighs as if wiping his sweaty palms before curling his fingers into fists. “Especially for a doctor. You see, nothing comes without a cost. She takes everything from them. That entire village is so far into poverty that I fear it will take hundreds of years to fix the damage, if it’s even possible.”
“What do you mean when you say she takes everything?” I ask, though I feel I already know the answer.
Selmar sighs. “Nesta has enforced a tariff.”
“Taxes,” Raf adds. “She takes half of everything the Shades grow or make. Even if it’s food that will go to waste. She doesn’t care. Half of everything is hers, end of story.”
“What the fuck?” I whisper.
“I had to watch people die,” he murmurs, anger clipping his tone. “All because she wouldn’t allow them basic treatment until they had paid her tax. Do you know what it’s like to be a healer who isn’t allowed to heal? I do. I’ve been within arm’s reach of dying Shades who I couldn’t touch, couldn’t heal, because they were too poor to pay.”
My breath rattles through my chest. “She controls—”
“Everything,” Raf snarls. “And there’s nothing we can do about it, Ada.”
He turns to me, eyes bloodshot and glossy, as the temperature in the room rises to a stifling degree. A tear slides between my lashes, drying before it rolls past my lips.
“I love being here with the Mongrels. This is my home,” he reveals. “But I think about the injustice within the Shade village every single day. When I walk through town and smell the fresh bread from the bakery, I remember the stench of rot and decay in the Shade streets. When the Mongrels laugh and their children play… All I can recall is a Shade woman weeping in her doorway as Nesta took her son away as punishment for not having a bountiful crop.”
Raf takes a pained breath, settling his emotions. “You’ve made the right decision, Water Goddess. The Shades are already at war. They fight more than they live. Every breath costs them, and they’re ready to give up... If they haven’t already.”
I wipe my eyes as Raf continues. “The Shades no longer feel pride in being Shades like the Mongrels do. Why would they when no one has been willing to fight and show them what pride looks like?”
“Have you met Madigan?” I ask him.
Raf shakes his head. “I haven’t yet.”
“She will fight, and I’ll fight with her,” I reassure him. “She’ll show the Shades what it’s like to be a proud people again. I will teach the Mongrels that one wicked Shade does not represent them all.”
“They will be appreciative,” he mutters on a heavy exhale, his shoulders finally relaxing to their natural position. “Once they escape their fear.”
“Does that answer your question, Ada?” Selmar asks.
