River

The wind off the western harbour tasted of iron and rotting kelp, a bitter reminder of what my home had become. 

I pressed my back against the damp surface of the port silo, my fingers digging into the rusted seam of a cargo crate until a splinter sliced beneath my fingernail. I didn’t flinch. The clean bite of physical pain was the only thing keeping me anchored. Beside me, Einan’s breaths were coming too fast. His sharp, terrified puffs of air were white against the grim backdrop of cranes looming over the shadowed bays.

“Sis, what’s happening?” he whispered.

“Don’t look,” I breathed, my voice barely a thread beneath the groan of ships. I reached out, gripping his small hand tightly. “Keep your eyes shut.”

Down the narrow alley between the towering grain terminal and the shipping offices, the heavy rhythmic thud of iron-soled boots crunched through the gravel. A Yammoran patrol officer.

My blood turned to ice when I heard the sound that came next. A suffocating scream from a little girl came echoing from where the boots had soiled the gravel.

“Strip down and hand over all your belongings,” his voice cut clear through the howling waves.

Einan’s hand jerked in mine, an instinctual reflex to run or cry. I swept my own hand up to cover his mouth, smothering him to silence and dropping the small bag of scraps that we managed to scavenge from the cargo shipments. “Do not move,” I hissed.

A crash, followed by another shriek from the alley. “Please, sir! That’s my dolly!”

My hand was shaking, still pressed hard against my brother’s tiny face. Through the gaps of the cargo crates, the scene unfolded in painfully slow motion. The officer wore heavy black armour, but it was his neck that made my stomach turn. His skin was branded with a twisted, unnatural mark of a sea serpent.

His face twisted into a vacant smile. This was a man who no longer owned his mind.

He had the little girl by the hair. She couldn’t have been older than six. Void of clothing, one remaining shoe clung to her foot as he dragged her through the soot-stained gravel toward the edge of the pier. The grey water below churned violently, as if waiting for her to fall.

My hand dropped to my hip, fingers wrapping around the handle of my skinning knife. It was a pathetic weapon against Yammoran steel.

Move, my mind screamed. Do something.

But my feet stayed rooted to the concrete. If I stepped into the light, the officer would find Einan. He would drag my little brother out of the shadows, and I would have to watch Einan get stripped and beaten before the officer killed us both.

Was one stranger’s life worth risking Einan’s?

Was I supposed to let a child be thrown into the harbour right in front of my eyes?

The officer was now holding the girl by her hair over the drop of the dock. She was no longer shaking or screaming, just quietly sobbing, naked in the battering wind. A child was about to die, and I stood paralysed by my own cowardice.

Think, River. Think. There was a dark crawlspace nearby, just under the stairs leading to the deck. I could hide Einan there; it would take ten seconds. He could keep the scraps safe. Then I could loop around the shipping office, creep up behind the officer and—

My train of thought was shattered by a dull crack. The officer had frozen, his head snapping at a terrifying angle toward the crane towering over the pier.

Out of the shadows, a young man had moved swiftly. He had hit the officer hard with the flat of his silver-tipped sword. The Yammoran soldier hissed, a primal instinct for survival suddenly breaking through what held his mind captive. He dropped the little girl onto the gravel, taking two frantic steps backward while keeping his unblinking black eyes glued to the crane. Fear flashed across his face. Then, he turned and sprinted away, disappearing into the fog of the docks.

Air rushed back into my lungs. Thank god. Someone had saved her. She was alive.

The young man had already draped his cloak over the girl and sent her off to the lower district. She bolted into the dark, her small footsteps fading fast.

Heart hammering, I didn’t waste a second. I lunged out of our hiding spot, grabbing our loot and pulling my brother with me, desperate to escape before the officer returned with reinforcements.

We ran until the harbour silos vanished behind us, chests burning from the icy air. As we beelined toward home, my knuckles remained white around the bag of stolen goods. We were safe, but the taste of iron on my tongue felt heavier than ever.