—Collection of stories written by citizens of the occupied Vespers, curated by Hob Cavaserra

They had been traveling through the Kavalian Bog for six days and two hours, and Navi was convinced they would never find their way out.

Glaring ahead through the strange yellow-tinged fog that choked the air, Navi gripped her oar hard and rowed.

Ruusa, the head of her personal guard, did not like that Navi was rowing. She was one of only four of Navi’s personal guard who had managed to escape the Empire’s invasion of Astavar and flee to safety with Navi, her brother Malik, and their friend Hob.

It had been weeks since they had left Astavar, weeks since Navi’s healers had administered the crawler antidote Eliana and Harkan had stolen from Annerkilak. Ruusa, however, was still not used to the idea of Navi being well. She scolded Navi for working so hard at the oars. Navi would wear herself out. Navi must guard against exhaustion in case some dormant scrap of crawler serum remained in her blood.

But rowing was the only thing keeping Navi sane. Rowing and recreating in her memory a map of the Vespers.

They were on one of the Vespers’ northernmost islands, Hariaca. Once they crossed this awful, endless swamp, they would follow the Hezta River to the island’s southern coast. From there they would traverse the Amatis Shallows on foot to the island of Laranti.

And there, at last, Navi would meet with the leader of Red Crown in the Vespers. A woman, Hob said, named Ysabet. She would be able to help Navi mobilize the Red Crown soldiers scattered throughout the Vespers—a massive nation comprising thousands of islands ranging in size from the enormous and city-choked to the minute and remote—and prepare them to travel across the Great Ocean to the Emperor’s city, Elysium. They would gather an army of rebels and strays, then sail to Eliana’s aid, ready to help her destroy the heart of the Empire.

If, that is, Eliana was still alive by then. If she hadn’t already been tortured into madness or coerced into allying with the Emperor.

Or, God forbid, willingly agreed to ally with the Emperor.

It was at a small Red Crown safe house in Meridian that they had learned the devastating truth: the brutal onslaught of imperial forces at the city of Festival and the capture of Eliana by Admiral Ravikant, who commanded the Emperor’s navy.

Navi closed her eyes. She had not yet managed to think of Eliana without tears rising.

“Eliana will not help him,” Navi muttered in Astavari. “She is too strong for him. She will not break.”

It was a familiar refrain, something she voiced aloud whenever she needed reassurance.

“Of course, my lady,” answered Ruusa blandly, also in their native tongue.

“Her mother may have joined the angels, but Eliana is not her mother.”

“That is true, my lady.”

“She is stronger than Queen Rielle.”

At that, Ruusa blew out an impatient breath. “My lady, you did not know Queen Rielle, so you cannot know that Eliana is stronger than her!”

Navi smiled wryly. “For days you’ve been listening to me recite my little prayers. I was wondering when you would stop saying, ‘Yes, my lady,’ and ‘Of course, you’re right, my lady,’ and yell at me instead.”

Ruusa’s mouth was a thin line. She glared at the trees they glided between, each slick with slime and draped with thick vines. The four boats carrying the other members of their party were nearby, their pale lanterns shining faintly in the gloom. A warm, overripe stink rose from the stagnant water like that of flowers gone brown in their vase.

“I did not yell, my lady,” Ruusa muttered. “I was very careful not to yell.”

“That depends on one’s definition of yelling, I suppose.”

Ruusa was quiet for a moment. “I am sorry, my lady. Please forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive. I encourage impertinence in my guards, Ruusa. You know this.”

“Of course, my lady.” Ruusa paused. “It’s only that I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Disappointed by what?” Navi asked, already knowing the answer. Fear curdled in her heart. She refused to acknowledge it.

“By whom.”

“Ah.”

“Lady Eliana has brought you nothing but trouble since you left Orline. Were it not for Lady Eliana, you would not have been captured by Fidelia in Sanctuary. You would not have had to endure torture, nor would you have been experimented upon and administered the crawler serum.”

“Now, you can’t know that,” Navi said lightly. “I might have been captured anywhere by Fidelia. And if I had been without Eliana there to save me, I would be a crawler by now.”

“And then,” Ruusa went on, unimpressed, “it was the Empire’s desire to find Lady Eliana that brought them to Vintervok. It was her they wanted. She is why they stormed our city, my lady, our home. I know I was not born in Astavar, but it had become my country, just as it has always been yours, my lady, and when it bleeds, so do I.”

The pain in Ruusa’s voice was too raw for Navi to ignore. She caught the eye of the sandy-haired, sunburned boy sitting across from her, who was listening intently but pretending not to. He was one of their strays, fifteen years old, his family murdered during an Empire raid. He’d attacked their camp one night somewhere in the southern dust-woods of Meridian. Ruusa had wanted to kill him for it, but Navi had not allowed it, and now he was loyal to her, ready to fight the Empire. His name was Miro. Since Navi had saved his life that night in the dust-woods, he had never looked at her with anything but fervent reverence.

Of course, he knew nothing of her true identity. None of her strays did. They knew her only as Jatana, just as they knew Malik only as Rovan.

That they were the last survivors of the Astavari royal family would remain a secret. She and her brother were Red Crown; they hated the Empire. That was all Miro and the others needed to know.

Navi smiled at the boy. “Miro, would you mind rowing for a while?” she asked in the common tongue.

He quickly took her place, and once Navi had settled across from Ruusa, she resumed speaking in Astavari. “My darling Ruusa, please know that I hear you. I know you have left your home, a place that had become a haven to you, and that everyone you love was there.”

“Everyone I love but you,” Ruusa corrected promptly.

With those words, Navi felt something within her give way, and her eyes stung with tears. As she pushed her people south, she had refused to think much on what they had left behind. But oh, how she wished she could crawl into Ruusa’s lap, as she had many times during her childhood, and ignore every impossible thing that lay ahead.

Ruusa gave Navi a keen look. She knew Navi’s expressions well, particularly the one that preceded impetuous embraces. “Not now, Your Highness. Not in front of everyone.”