same roughnecks who brought their rigs to you for repairs hauled their beer guts into the tavern night after night. I know what they’re capable of. I can handle myself.”
“I know. You just . . .” I swallow down all the tension I’ve carried for miles and miles. “You left your knife.”
“Hyla gave me this,” she says, pulling a golden handgun from her waistband, holding it to the light. Not nearly as big as the ones Hyla carried, not nearly as ornate, but it’s Paradyian. There’s no doubt in my mind.
“You have any idea what to do with that?” I ask, my lips pulling despite everything. She’s still Leni and I’m still Sylvi and I can’t remember ever seeing her hold a gun.
“I’ve been practicing,” she says. “I was hoping to show Hyla.” She slides the gun away and wraps her hands around the bars. “What happened to her, Sylvi? She was so . . . strong.”
“The Seacliff Road happened,” I say. “It was a nightmare for us too.”
“Abaki?” she asks, pressing her forehead to the bars.
I nod.
For a long minute we stare at Bristol, the candlelight like another presence. Watching, waiting. I’m sure we’re both thinking about Drypp. About what the first Abaki did to our lives.
“They have to post a guard here,” Lenore says. “I haven’t had my turn yet and the Abaki aren’t as plentiful on this side of the point, but I think I’d like to shoot a monster with Hyla’s gun.”
“She’d like that,” I say. But my smile is uncomfortable. I don’t want to think of Lenore anywhere near one of Winter’s monsters. Not after what they did to Drypp. Not after what they did to the strongest woman I’ve ever met.
“Why’s Bristol locked up?” I ask. He and Lenore haven’t been in camp long—four days maybe—but it doesn’t take long for someone like Bristol to wreak havoc. The idea of him being close to Hyla’s girls for any length of time sets a panic stirring in my chest.
“Here,” she says, pulling a board from a hook on the wall and handing it to me. Affixed to the board is a wrinkled sheet of paper and a charcoal pencil hanging from a bit of twine. “The charges against him.”
“‘Perpetual and public drunkenness,’” I read, squinting in the low light, “and ‘Actions detrimental to the rebellion.’”
“Eventually there’ll be a trial. I think they were waiting on Mars.”
“What did he do, Leni?”
She sighs. “He left the keys in his plow, to start with.”
“Rayna,” I say.
“You saw her on the road?” She turns toward me. “I figured she never made it past the monsters.”
I think of Bristol’s rig when it slammed onto the river crossing. How beat up it already was.
“I’m sure she saw her share of monsters, but she made it as far as the Serpentine. The plow went under there. Her too,” I say. She doesn’t need to hear the worst of it. “Did you know her?”
“I saw her in camp is all. Just that first day. But Bristol started drinking as soon as we arrived and I didn’t think to check for his keys.”
“At least he wasn’t drinking on the road.”
“I searched the rig before we left. Dumped the bottles I found.”
I snort. “Did you?”
“He wasn’t happy, but I know Bristol well enough to know his drinking habits. Privilege of a tavern wench.”
“Mars said Rayna didn’t like it out here.”
“I couldn’t say. But she took something when she left. Something the rebellion worked very hard to get their hands on. They think she meant to barter with it, to trade it to the Majority for her job back. When they wouldn’t send someone after his rig, Bristol set the twyl house on fire.”
“The twyl house?”
“The rebels have been hoarding twyl chewing gum. They’ll need a lot of it for what they have planned and Bristol nearly ruined everything. He’s an animal when he drinks.”
I swallow back the memories, the bars between Bristol and I a small comfort. The door opens in the main room and voices fill the silence.
“Do you think they’ll really try him for these crimes?” I ask, my finger tracing the charges. “Do the rebels care much for justice?”
She places a soft hand on my shoulder. “That’s all they care about, Syl.”
She leaves me there alone, her voice bouncing back, promising a hot meal. My stomach growls, but I watch Bristol snore for another long moment and then I pull the charcoal pencil from the board. With Hyla’s girls shimmering gold in