Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

talking about him because he was in the conversation queue. At different moments, he could feel her weighing his words, as if she needed to make a judgment or come to a decision. And he supposed she did—tomorrow.
    If he wanted her to trust him, evading or lying would do him no good.
    He looked out over the water. “Many of my father’s people were among those who converted when the Europeans first came. My name—Kentewess—identifies me as one. When I was a boy living in the east, the reclaiming of the old ways had just begun, so I didn’t think of it much. But when we moved to the mountain builders’ city with di Fiore, many of those around us took great pride in never having converted, never having lost history to Europeans. And when I was with the other boys, I would do everything I could to avoid mentioning my name, and gave them instead the name of an ancestor. I’d ask my father for legends, for tales—not even to truly honor them, but because knowing them made it easier to not feel…European.”
    “Did it work?”
    She was watching him, angling her head slightly as if to better see his expression. He turned again, suddenly conscious of his good side.
    “In truth, I don’t know that it ever mattered to the other boysas much as it mattered to me. I never felt as if I fit in, but I was never excluded, either.” He shook his head. “Now, I think about my father more than I ever do them. I remember the anger I felt toward him for converting—even though he hadn’t; our ancestors had—and I remember the guilt for feeling that anger. He never went by any name but Kentewess. And even though I turned my back on that, he was never angry in return. He said I would find my way.” He glanced at Annika, gave a wry smile. “Then the mountain came down, and I was never likely going to fit in anywhere, no matter what I called myself.”
    Especially after his nanoagent infection finished off any chance of ever being accepted. After the Europeans had come, disease had devastated many of the native tribes in the east. Now, though some infected men bribed their way past the port gates and into the cities, they were summarily rejected from native enclaves—including the town where David and his father had retreated to after the Inoka Mountain disaster. The town hadn’t been much different than many European communities of similar size, but descendants of converts had begun to reject the European influence, reclaiming the past. Giving children the old names… christening them with the old names, and either not seeing the irony or ignoring it.
    The Americas would never be as they’d been before the Europeans arrived. It would be true of Iceland, too, whether the Dutch returned or only miners came. Her village, once found, would be irrevocably changed.
    No wonder Annika was terrified that they’d be discovered.
    “You call yourself Kentewess now,” she said.
    So he did. “But not as a statement—unless it’s the pride of being my father’s son. I can’t imagine carrying any other name.”
    Her eyebrows arched. “Not even Ingasson?”
    He’d never considered it before. “Perhaps I’ll add it.”
    She smiled, but it froze when her gaze fixed on something behindhim. David looked over his shoulder. Maria Madalena Neves had come up to the main deck, wearing a red cloak trimmed in white fur. Her nurse accompanied her—not the older, stern woman that David had imagined, but as young as her charge, and pink in her cheeks.
    Annika sighed. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
    “Yes.” He couldn’t deny it.
    “She doesn’t fit in, either. You’ve heard where she’s going?”
    “Heimaey.” When she didn’t respond, David glanced over. She was watching him again, her expression uncertain…then slowly hardening with resolve. He frowned. “What is it?”
    “Do you know why she’s going there?”
    The heat in his face wasn’t just from the warmers. “I’ve heard that it’s to keep young women…intact.”
    And that was about as awkward a thing a man could say, but Annika didn’t seem to notice. “My first year aboard, we took a different girl there and I overheard a few of the aviators discussing the island. They thought the Church spread the story about them all being virgins to protect them.”
    “From what?”
    Annika glanced across the deck again. “ Look at them. When she thinks no one is watching.”
    He did, and Maria Madalena appeared just as haughty and regal as when she’d