I'm glad to be back in Roshaska when the messenger arrives. We've collected three refugee groups by now, and the integration has thus far gone smoothly. Almost better than I could have hoped. There's been the usual suspicion, and some tense conversations between me and groups of Shalda-Kels who share my people's fear of divers, but I've managed to keep the Rapal refugees themselves out of it. Other Shalda groups have helped. Since the first time I talked to them about Rapal, a second tribe has revealed themselves to have friendly contact with the Ashianti or other Rapal-aligned Kels out in the three-moon deep, and it's gone a long way to keeping the others from expressing their hostility directly.

This messenger's a diver. Whoever sent him must have warned him not to approach the city from directly overhead, which I'm thankful for; the only way to assuage a lot of Shalda anxieties about staying in Roshaska is to maintain a constant watch for diving Kels. The messenger still scares a couple guards when he turns up outside the city walls, but people here have been trained to default to me when faced with Kels they don't recognize, and I'm thankful for that, too. Not that it doesn't scare me half to death sometimes. But I'm getting better at reorienting my mental narratives to milder options when a lone diving Saru-Kel shows up outside Roshaska's walls.

This Kel is fidgeting in classic open-water fashion when I meet him. He perks up. "Taiki?"

Sent by someone who provided my description. He also knows Shalda-sign, with a distinct Rapal accent. My stubborn fear of getting dive-stabbed eases, making space for all the other worries I've been trying to tamp down. The situation in Rapal was already grim when the first refugees left it. With how long they've been traveling, even the most recent group's news is a moon out of date. The best I've been able to do is trust my companions to pull off the Denizel-Xivay extraction. At least I know the diversion was successful. At the time that the most recent refugee group left, the Alliance had just flooded out of Rapal, bound towards the Gods' Teeth.

"Yes, that's me," I reply. "Are you here from Rapal?"

"From Sar." His smile is grim. "And yes."

My stomach melts all the way to the ocean floor. Sar was on the diversion team. If they sent this messenger, that means they're still alive. If they sent him from Rapal, though, that means something went wrong. It must have. The diversion team was supposed to abandon Alaga and return to Underfarrow directly.

"What's the news?" I ask. The best I can hope for at this point is that nobody died.

"Andalua took the city."

I close my eyes.

Sar must be devastated. I feel for them. I feel it so hard, my heart is stabbing, a pain I've rarely felt for more than my own people. Maybe Hentea is right, and I've expanded that definition. But it's also more. People must have died in that attack. Many more will have lost a home. And I can't unsee the history lost every time the city's walls are broken.

I drag my eyes open again. I need to know what follows from that boulder-heavy piece of news. If Rapal has fallen and Sar has contacted me, I think I already know where this is going.

The messenger takes my cue and continues. "There was a betrayal from the diversion in the Gods' Teeth. The Karu contingent there refused to leave the island, but had allied with the North Faction, which joined them. They also told Rapal about the royals' assassinations. It collapsed the siege on Alaga from both sides. The fighting in Rapal drew Andalua to the city."

The North Faction. My hands flex into fighting claws, wanting to grip the news and shake it until it stops biting. The north end of the island chain is empty, and I haven't known why. I'd expected it might have something to do with the diversion, but not to this degree. I can only assume it's Sar who escaped and brought news of that betrayal to Rapal. Or to Ruka, rather. Rapal had likely already devolved into infighting.

The messenger—his short name is Zek, though I've learned most open-water Kels have a longer version—elaborates, confirming those suspicions. He tells me everything he knows. If it's not everything Sar knows, it's as much as they could have expected a single messenger to carry. My mind picks out ally locations and action items automatically. Sar left the diversion for Rapal, but sent Innis and El back to reconvene with Ande's extraction team. That means they should be arriving soon. They'll have a scholar with them. Given that Ruka and Casin stayed behind, I can only presume I'm watching for Innis, El, Ande, and Yaz. They'll be bound for Underfarrow, which means I need to get to Underfarrow. I need to warn Finika about Vibi's betrayal. I need to find a way to take advantage of the North Faction's absence at the north end of the island chain.

Then Zek delivers the heart of his message: Sar is coming, and they're bringing the remaining survivors from Rapal. My priorities shift in a flash. Smaller items drop off the list entirely; bringing that scholar here can wait. Or I can task Ande with it. There's an influx of refugees bound for Roshaska, and Sar needs a place to house their city's shallow-water people. The person on this end of the ocean in charge of both those things is me.

I interrogate Zek for absolutely everything he can tell me. He answers every question he can, and volunteers more information whenever he remembers. I curse myself internally as my continued lack of any surface branch of this alliance comes back to bite me. If Yaz is on her way back, though, that opens the possibility of exploring Sekanti as an option. If she's bound for Underfarrow, I need to be back there for multiple reasons now.

Those reasons immediately multiply like hagfish slime. If Vibi betrayed Sar and broke all agreements about the diversion on Alaga, there's no way her loyalists back in Underfarrow aren't up to something sinister. Tajam has been holding Winona hostage and threatening Finika. I can see the linkage all too clearly now. Winona was a top-priority rescue from Rapal after the coup so the Alliance—and Arcas—wouldn't have a means to blackmail El.

My hands are shaking, but it's not fear. It's been a while since I toyed with the mental image of strangling someone, but Vibi would be a strong candidate at this point. That's not productive, though. Vibi's still at the far end of the Gods' Teeth. My priority is finding people a safe place to gather and stay.

"Do you have a timeline for getting back?" I ask, when Zek runs out of answers for my questions.

"Not specifically, but the sooner, the better. The surface group doesn't know where they'll be landing when they arrive."

I don't envy Sar that anxiety. "How fast are they traveling?"

"They should be here within a moon."

Enough time for me to secure something. Little enough time that I'll need to do it fast.

"Thank you," I sign, and mean it. "I can send you back now with the update that I'm working on it, or I can send you back as soon as I have a better answer. Which would be better?"

"It's a long way back right now. How soon will you have an answer?"

"Within half a moon." I almost add Andalua willing, but that's reflex. "Less if you come with me where I need to go next. That way, you'll get the confirmation as soon as I do."

"I'll come."

We agree on logistics, then I suggest he hangs out with the Rapal Kels here while I negotiate with the rest of the Roshaska command team. Zek winces at the proposition.

"I'd rather not," he signs. "I mean, I'd like to, but anyone from Rapal is going to ask about the city. Sar sent the later deep-water refugee groups prepared to break that news."

I'm deeply glad Sar thought of that already, because the very realization that people here will need to learn that news is enough to take me halfway to a heart attack. I grimace, agree, and take Zek to a different pocket of the city, to wait it out with my tribe's Risi-singers. I've made it my standard practice to give any new arrivals a personal introduction to at least one other person in Roshaska, so they have someone to vouch for them in my absence. It was a habit I picked up entirely offhand—or maybe out of instinct—but it's been so helpful, I formalized it the moment I realized.

Tracking down Roshaska's "command" team is a headache and a half if they're not meeting already, and this is not one of those times. At least Neem is waiting for me, having been the one to let me know a Saru messenger had arrived. I tell him Zek is friendly and from Sar before we part ways to round up the remainder of the people with decision-making power and social authority in this place. Qi'u and Hentea are technically the only ones I need to convince, but integrations go smoother when everyone is aware of who's arriving, and how they'll need to respond.

I'm glad I left Zek with people who'll show him where to find food, because it's at least a hand's length before I'm able to get everyone I need into the same room. I don't entirely trust them all to take the Rapal refugee-influx news well, but I've also gotten used to presenting non-negotiable requests and asking how to make them easier, so I'm braced for any pushback. There's almost none. I'd guess that's less connected to people's feelings than to the fact that someone heard Gutu singing again this morning—far off, but in our general vicinity. It's terrifying every time it happens, but at least it bolsters the conversation on gathering a thousand Kels.

"How soon are you leaving for Underfarrow?" asks Neem when that conversation's done. "And how long do you think you'll be gone?"

Standard logistics, not an antagonistic query. Neem just likes to keep track of these things, so he knows when and where to allocate the guards and scouts under his supervision. I've gotten a lot better at reading these sorts of questions from different people in this room since working with all of them on the giant social experiment that is currently Roshaska.

"I'd like to leave as soon as possible," I sign. "Preferably tonight. I have no idea when I'll be back again, but if I meet up with Ande, she might get here before I do. I'll send an update with her if that's the case."

He nods.

"If any other messengers arrive, send them to Underfarrow to find me," I add. "Unless you're able to update them yourselves, but I'm guessing me and Sar will be in contact for most of this."

There's more nodding around the room. They're all glad to see me lead these things, and I'm glad to be the one in control of them. Everyone wins. We then run through task delegations for several hand-lengths. Roshaska has taken in refugee groups while I'm away before: one arrived the last time I visited Finika. Nerve-wracking as that was, I'm glad people here have had the practice. They'll be doing it without me a bunch more times.

We don't wrap up the meeting until halfway through the night. I gauge the time. If I was any less familiar with the route between Roshaska and Underfarrow, I'd have preferred to sleep here and leave tomorrow, but I'd rather get moving. Time is precious now, even more so than it was with the prophecy already. And I don't want to subject Zek to more risk of getting cornered by Rapal refugees. I find him chatting with the Risi-singers, and have to smile at their complaints when I take their new friend away. Food producers as a general category have been among the most welcoming Kels in this entire city, ever since we began to gather people here. Apparently they've all united under their shared objective to furnish the city with food. After all, they say, every Kel needs to eat.

Maybe that's a model I can leverage whenever I get this surface branch of Sing to the Moon up and running. Karu culture is notoriously strong on food.

Now I just need an Andalua-damned place to gather them.

A/N: Read a month ahead on Patreon—link in the comments ➡️