I'm Ona. I've dragged salvage out of this river since before half this market could walk.
And I have never seen a crowd enjoy itself this much.
Mavra: She turned her back on four Alphas like they were a bad smell. Did you see it?
Ona: Because she's got sense. Come on. We follow her.
We catch her on the pump stairs, where the light goes green and thin.
Ona: Kestra. Stop. Look at me.
Kestra: I'm fine, Ona.
She says fine like it's a wall.
Mavra: You're bleeding through your tape and you just told four Alphas to go fuck themselves in front of the whole valley.
Kestra: That part I'm proud of.
So we tell her. All of it. The things this town says about those men when the lanterns are low.
Ona: Aric had a woman upstairs two nights back. Mirembe. Tall, gold hoops.
Ona: He finished with her and told her to get out. Not one kind word.
Mavra: Dain kisses Veyla in the street like he's marking a fence post. Then he looks at you while he does it.
Mavra: That's not a confused man. That's a man who likes an audience.
Ona: Talon had that stable girl against the boards behind the market not two hours before. She walked out with her shirt half buttoned and her mouth shut.
Ona: I've worn that same face home myself. It never means a good night.
Mavra: Ulric put a man's head through a market table last spring and laughed about the bill.
Kestra: So they're bastards. I already knew that. I don't need a list.
Ona: Yes, you do. Because they'll come at you with smiles next. Bastards always do.
Then boots on the wet iron below us. Two pairs. Red dress and a sharp black bob.
Veyla: There she is. The grease-rat who thinks four Alphas rode into town for her.
Rhoswen: She's not even pretty. She smells like a dead engine and river mud.
Veyla: She smells like a bitch in heat who can't shift. Bet that's the only thing that gets wet on her.
They laugh. Mavra steps forward and I get an arm across her chest, because this is not a fight we win on iron stairs.
Veyla gets a hand on Kestra's bad arm and squeezes.
The tape goes dark. Blood runs down to her wrist and drips on the grate.
Kestra: Get your hand off me.
Veyla shoves her. Kestra's shoulder hits the valve wheel and her head snaps back on the pipe.
There's blood in her mouth when she spits.
Veyla: Listen to me, you packless little shit. There's a chain in my uncle's boat shed.
Veyla: One night you go in the black water with it on your ankles. The court writes drowned.
Veyla: I cry at the funeral. Everybody has a nice day.
She means it. I've known liars my whole life, and that one means it.
Veyla: Four Alphas don't ride in for a wife. They ride in for a body that mends pipes and keeps its mouth shut.
Veyla: When they get bored they'll pass you around the crews and laugh.
Veyla: You'll be the story this town tells to keep its daughters in line.
Then they're gone and the hatch slams, and the pump house is only dripping.
Kestra: I'm not giving her my face. Not one tear.
Ona: Nobody's asking for tears, kiddo.
Kestra: Good. Because they're not getting any.
I find her later, down by pump three with a wrench in her fist and her eyes shining.
She's not crying. She's working. Her hands shake on every turn and she keeps turning.
Ona: Kestra. Put the wrench down.
Kestra: If I put it down I'll cry, Ona. So no.
I sit on the wet step next to her and don't say a word. My knees hate it. I stay.
Ona: You're allowed to be hurt. That's not losing.
Kestra: It's not about allowed. It's about them getting to see it.
I go up for dry rags and Aric is standing across the street in the rain. No hood. Soaked through. Not coming closer.
Ona: You look like a man who lost something.
Aric: I don't know what I lost. That's the worst of it.
I leave him out there. Let him drown in it.
Behind me the pump kicks on, and the water starts to drop. She's still down there. Still fixing it. Still not crying.
Good. Let the whole valley choke on that.