It's been a long time since I've had a proper feast, and if the fare here isn't quite on par with the best tables in the City, then hunger make the best sauce. And I'm famished. Plus: booze! Another amenity sadly lacking aboard the prison ship. The quaff of choice seems to be a pale yellow beer and I am going to speculate on what it's brewed from. At least it's strong enough to give a pleasant buzz.

  Quarter, Mercy, and I are directed to a table, where we sit and periodically accept dishes and thanks from one set of our hosts or another. Mostly they don't offer their names, which is great since I wouldn't remember them anyway. Mercy pokes at her food curiously but doesn't seem inclined to eat anything, and I have to explain to multiple concerned aunties that she has a special diet but yes, we are trying to fatten her up.

  I keep looking around for familiar faces and not finding any. Agni is probably still in the medical tent, and Raz doesn't really seem like the party type. But I would expect Theo and her brother to be at the center of the celebration, and they're nowhere to be seen. I catch murmurs among the other attendees to the effect that this surprises them too, and various young people are sent off to locate the guests of honor.

  In the meantime, Quarter and I make a mess of our ourselves prying huge portions of roast roach out of its chitin with knife, fork, and shell-crusher. Six lettuce leaves with a single tomato balanced on top may be , but nothing beats meat for satisfying your appetite. I get a small cheers from a band of fascinated children as I scrape the last few bits from the shell and settle back with an appreciative belch.

  "You Twelve-damned, roach-fucking, shit-for-brains !" Theo's voice reaches us at a pitch and volume that puts nearby glassware in danger. "I refuse to admit you're my brother, because I am

  related to anyone so stupid they can't tell their cock from a hardened turd! Go ahead and , then. The only mercy is that you didn't fucking breed so future generations will be spared your arse-faced bloodline."

  She appears from between two nearby tents, stalking across the feasting ground in a black fury. When a table get in her way she kicks it aside, splattering soup in the faces of a couple of grandmas. Atrax saunters behind her wearing a nonchalant expression, but a redness in his ears speaks to where the tirade has hit home.

  "My sister," he says to the crowd at large, "is very glad to be home, and bids everyone a joyous meal!"

  "I fucking ," Theo screams. "Fucking choke on it, you --" Her obscenity passes into obscure swearing beyond my ken, assuming she's not just making it up as she goes along. She vanishes again amidst the tents, still audible as a slowly receding string of profanity.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Atrax waves to the other guests and makes his way to our table, sitting cross-legged across from us and waving another round of meat and beer over.

  "Brother Kal, friend Quarter," he says. "I hope you are enjoying yourself!"

  "Um," I manage. "Yes. Everything's been lovely."

  "Aye," Quarter puts in. "Thank ye for all."

  "And friend Mercy, we have not yet met. I am Atrax, and I bid you welcome to our camp."

  "Murder," Mercy says politely.

  "She doesn't mean ," I hurriedly add. "More like 'thank you'. It's all in the intonation."

  "The girls who bathed her were taken with her unique manner," Atrax says. Even when he's not actually shouting, he gives the expression of booming every word. "You have assembled quite the band of companions to rescue our Theo."

  "I didn't mean to. That is, obviously I was to rescue her, but we didn't know she was there. We were just trying to get out alive."

  "I understand. And I know one of your own was lost in the attempt. Accept my condolences."

  I realize with a guilty start I'd barely thought about poor Owain. For a prison guard, he hadn't seemed like a bad sort. I lower my eyes briefly, as though overcome with emotion.

  "What was yer sister so mad about?" Quarter says, in the midst of stuffing his face with newly arrived meat.

  I had been curious about this as well, but I wasn't sure if it was taboo. A frustrated expression crosses Atrax's handsome features, but he quickly smooths it away.

  "The requirements of honor and tradition are not always easy ones," he says. "But I have lived my life by them, and their dictates are clear, much as we might wish it were otherwise. Theo is young and has never felt much respect for custom."

  "I'm not sure I follow," I say cautiously.

  "Slaughterborne ordered her to be kidnapped," Atrax explains, as though to a child. "That tarnished our honor. To regain it we must deal him a blow in turn."

  "So yer goin' t' war with the cannibals?" Quarter says.

  "Before you rescued Theo, I had contemplated an assault to rescue her," Atrax says. "But Slaughterborne commands many bands of Sworn, and their response might have destroyed us. Thanks to you, happily, there is another solution. I will go to Slaughterborne's camp myself and challenge him. Thus honor will be satisfied without war."

  "You're going to fight their boss?" I ask. "By yourself?"

  "If he agrees. It might be a duel or some other sort of contest."

  "Ye think he will?" Quarter says.

  "No. Slaughterborne has no honor. Doubtless he will have me painfully killed." Atrax shrugs. "But by his refusal, honor will be satisfied."

  I stare at him. "That's …"

  "A load o' roach snot," Quarter says. He lets out a loud burp, and I realize he may have been over-indulging in the offered beer. "He stole yer sister, so ye've got to hand yerself over?"

  "It may seem strange to outsiders," Atrax says. "But I must keep the peace between Sworn and herders. If I do nothing, Slaughterborne will continue to expect an attack, and he may decide to strike first."

  "I can see why Theo's pissed off, though," I say.

  "She will understand, in time." He reaches across the table to pat my shoulder. "When the two of you are married, you can explain it to her."