Mahlia wondered how to answer, but before she could form a response, the boy answered the question for her. “They don’t like castoffs here. You better get yourself clear or tag AOG, real quick, girl.”

AOG. Army of God. Of course. Tag herself. She’d been stupid. She needed an amulet, or something. And then, when she got down to UPF territory, she’d need to mark herself again. She’d have to brand her cheek, probably. Put the triple hash on herself, if she wanted to slide past without getting challenged.

“Thanks,” she said again.

But they were already securing the last of their bundles in their skiff and unwrapping their ropes.

“Hey!” she called. “You going downriver?”

“Why?”

“I want to come on, if you are.”

“You got money?”

“My friend does.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s hurt. I need help getting him down. We can buy on, if you can take us. We just want to get out of here.”

“And you want to go downriver?” Their disbelief showed.

“We got friends,” Mahlia said. “They say they got us room on a scrap ship, going out. Going north. To the Seascape.”

“First time I heard of something like that. No one gets out of here.”

“We got a friend. We just got to get there.” She hesitated. “Please. We got to get downriver. My friend’s just in the trees. We can pay. We got rice. We got machetes. We got coywolv skin.”

In a burst of inspiration, she thought of Mouse and his profiteering schemes. “I got some half-man teeth. Dog-face teeth. You can sell those, right? Lucky charms. Soldier boys love those, right?”

She almost laughed when they perked right up.

Tool took the boys so fast that Mahlia actually felt bad.

The boys came up with their shotgun and rifle, full of swagger and acid, thinking they knew how to fight, maybe still a little high from whatever they’d gotten up to the night before, and Tool…

The boys stood there under the trees, looking around expectantly, kind of pissed that they’d come this far, and it was like the jungle just breathed.

The leaves rustled. The two boys flew. They crashed to the ground and Tool landed atop them. He ripped their guns away and wrapped a boy under each arm.

They kicked and thrashed and flopped around, and one of them started to piss his shorts, and Mahlia almost laughed, except she remembered what it had been like to be on the other end of Tool’s attack, and she didn’t.

She got down with the boys and said, “I don’t got no money, but now I got you.” She looked at them. “I’m going to talk to your boss. See if we can work out a trade.”

They both stared at her with hatred.