“Far thinks she got into some rot. Must’ve been bad to kill her.”
That was an understatement. Goats were hardy in general, but Metalmouth had been named for the fact that she would have eaten the hull of their ship if she could. No goat meant no milk. Even less sustenance to go around. Finding a replacement wouldn’t be easy.
“Bright bits?” Lace asked, her smile resurfacing. “We’ll have meat for dinner.”
“Youngest first,” Caledonia spoke quietly. Her mind was already calculating the distance between them and the familiar waters of the Bone Mouth. If they changed course now, they could be there before they ran through their supply of beans. With any luck, they’d be able to forage on the islands and cast their lines for fish. “Gather the command crew. We’re changing course.”
Before Lace had a chance to comply, a whistle pierced the air. It was followed by a shout from Amina high in the rigging. “Bow boat on approach!”
“That was quick,” Lace mused, shielding her eyes to peer over the ocean.
The boat cut a straight line across the water, moving with strict urgency. It meant it was time to do one of two things: run or fight.
Immediately, the Mary sisters mobilized the deck crew, ready-ing the hooks that would latch the boat and raise it into its hanging berth. The maneuver hadn’t always been an easy one for such a young crew, but they hooked the boat on their first try and smoothly lifted the vessel from the water.
Redtooth was over the railing in an instant. Her blue eyes bulged like the muscles in her persistently burned arms as she made for Caledonia. “Captain,” she said, clamping one hand on Caledonia’s shoulder. “We found trouble.”
Caledonia could see the future in Redtooth’s eager expression. Trouble was code for a fight. Judging by the smile Redtooth couldn’t hide, this wasn’t just any fight. This was a chance to hurt Aric Athair, and that was impossible to walk away from.
“Can we eat it?” Caledonia asked.
Redtooth’s lips spread in a devilish grin. “Sure,” she answered. “We’re the crew of the Mors Navis. We eat Bullets for breakfast.”
CHAPTER TWO
The barge made a beautiful target. It floated on a glassy blue sea, covered in orange flowers turned toward the sun.
Under Redtooth’s guidance, they’d come upon the baleflower carrier only moments before. The long, flat deck was a riot of mature flowers ready to be plucked and processed and eventually dehydrated and turned into Silt. This ship was on its way to rejoin Aric’s AgriFleet along with other ships bearing harvested goods. He depended on these flowers, on the drug they produced, to force loyalty from his Bullets. They hungered for Silt almost as much as they craved Aric’s approval.
He would definitely notice the barge’s absence.
The day was clear, the air threaded with the distant, too sweet scent of those poisonous flowers, the seas agreeable.
Caledonia lowered her binoculars and turned to face the five girls of her command crew: Pisces, Amina, Redtooth, Lace, and Little Lovely Hime. Pisces was her second-in-command, while the other four commanded smaller crews of a dozen girls to oversee ship tech, training, navigation, and medical respectively. In the time they’d been together, each of these faces had found harder edges. Little Lovely Hime no longer hid her hands in the pockets of her apron, Amina watched the horizon as much as she used to watch the sky, Lace smiled with more determination than joy, Redtooth’s blonde braids were permanently tipped with red clay to signify she was ready for the fight, and Pisces spent so much time training in the water that her shoulders were always covered in fine sea salt. They were Caledonia’s stones: some small, some large, each powerful in their own way.
From where they stood on the command deck, they had a clear view of both the barge ahead and the crew on the deck below.
Caledonia met Amina’s steady gaze. In response, Amina raised her brown hand into the air like a sail, palm cupped. “There’s a killing wind from the west, and the spirits are hungry,” she said. “They will want blood. It does not matter from whom.”
It certainly did matter from whom, but Caledonia wasn’t in the mood to argue with Amina’s spirits. Instead, she asked, “How charged are we?”
“Eighty percent. Charging slower since our sun sail was gouged last week.” Amina’s voice carried fresh bitterness as she referenced their latest encounter. She turned thoughtfully toward the stern of the ship. “I’m working on a solution.”
Like most salvaged ships, the Mors Navis ran on solar-powered jets. Unlike most ships, they had a system of retractable masts with patchwork cloth sails stowed belowdecks. At a moment’s notice, the crew could erect the masts and convert the ship to wind power.
“Hime,” Caledonia said, turning to the small girl. She had endlessly dark eyes and skin the cool beige of a seashell. Her mangled ear was hidden behind a long black braid, the end of which was tied in a simple blue ribbon. Her hands were folded quietly in front of her, a long apron blowing lightly over her pants and boots. “You need to get below.”
I want to fight, Hime said, her hands moving deftly.
Redtooth grunted her disapproval. “Not a smart move, little Princelet.” She absently rubbed at a small scar on her palm.
Hime’s cheeks flushed with anger or irritation—Caledonia didn’t care which, only that Hime removed herself from the deck and the impending fight. Everyone on Aric’s fleet was fed Silt. Even the Scythes, who were primarily responsible for tending the barges. And while Hime had been clean for nearly a year, the habit had long claws.
Amina laid a gentle hand on Hime’s shoulder, communicating so much with a simple touch.
Hime raised her dark eyes to the baleflowers on the horizon, and then looked away with a nod.
One ship in the open blue, a hundred possible traps waiting where they could not see. Bale barges were never alone. There’d be at least two Bullet ships scouting wide for attack, ready to rush back and protect the precious cargo at the first signal from the barge. This battle would cost the Mors Navis, but the only way to bring Aric’s reign to an end was to weaken his hold over his Bullets. That required sacrifice—ammo, energy, blood. Caledonia was no stranger to sacrifice, but she preferred to make sure Aric’s would be greater.
She spun, facing the crew below her on deck. Caledonia required every girl on board to know their strengths and pull their weight. Some, like Far, would do more harm than good in a fight, but even with a few tucked safely belowdecks, the fighting force was forty-nine girls strong. They stood with eyes trained on her. They’d seen the barge and had their guns and knives already in hand, their faces sharp and eager. They knew exactly what lay ahead of them. Raising her hand, Caledonia cried, “The only good Bullet . . .”
“Is a dead Bullet!” her girls shouted.
“Full speed!” The jets along the hull of the Mors Navis began to force water through their system. A plume of churned water rose behind them, and the ship surged forward.
Their speed was met by a flare from the barge, precisely as Caledonia had expected. It burst in the air like a great purple flower, then crackled and hissed as it faded to smoke. The countdown to Bullet ships began.
“You”—Caledonia pointed a finger at Lovely Hime—“belowdecks, don’t come out.”
Hime nodded and, with a final glance for Amina, slipped away.
Redtooth removed a small gray tin from a zippered pocket low on her leg and grinned as she dipped her fingers inside. She dragged red clay across her mouth, turning her lips into a bloody gash. Then, leaping from the bridge to the deck, she began organizing her raiding parties.
Amina was already halfway down the deck, shouting at her team of Knots to raise the masts and get into the rigging. No sooner were the masts locked in place than a team of girls began to climb, rifles strapped to their backs. They found positions among the bound sails and clipped into harnesses, ready to snipe incoming ar
tillery.
The crew was in their rhythm. Tin, the eldest of the five Mary sisters, called out a list of orders to the deck crew until each of the twenty girls had a gun in hand.
“I have the bridge, Captain,” Lace announced, tossing her sun-bleached curls as she turned to assume her position on the bridge. She was a bright spot among the crew, a sparkling citrine stone filled with warmth and light. Everything about her clung to cheer, from her ever-ready smile to the tattered lace she used to wrap her hands for combat. She was their Helm Girl, commanding the small bridge crew in Caledonia’s absence. And she was the only person on board Caledonia trusted in that role.
“You have the bridge, Lace,” Caledonia confirmed, leaving the shelter of her bridge and crossing the narrow command deck to stand at the very tip of her vessel, in full view of the barge. She stood with hands on hips, eyes trained on her target, red hair blowing behind her like a deadly storm, as her mother had done whenever danger loomed. Let them see she was not afraid.
Pisces appeared at Caledonia’s elbow.
“Cable mines,” Pisces said as she pulled a charm back and forth on the chain around her neck.
Caledonia nodded. In all likelihood, there was a web of submerged mines attached to cables and suspended in a perimeter around that barge. They would need to be disabled or triggered before the Mors Navis sent its raiding parties in to destroy the crop. But first they would have to locate them.
They were closer to the barge now. Through binoculars she could see tiny figures rushing to secure the blossoms.
“Can you do it?” Caledonia turned to her friend, hopeful the answer was both yes and no.
“I can.” Pisces dropped the charm. Seeming to sense Caledonia’s momentary indecision, Pisces rested her fingertips against the arrowhead that marked Caledonia’s temple.
In response, Caledonia raised her own fingers to the tattoo on Pi’s temple. Black and starting to blur at the edges, it was a simple circle with two lines slashed vertically through one side. For Caledonia and Pisces, the marks had become living shrines to their murdered brothers, a symbol of the family they avenged with every battle.
The girls rested this way for just a breath before Pisces left like a gust of wind, flying down to where her submersible gear waited. As Pisces suited up, Caledonia imagined her own heart pinched flat as the ocean. Caring was what set them apart from the likes of Aric, but at times like this, it was only a distraction. Caledonia steered her mind to the fight ahead.
“Bullets!” The cry came from the top of the rigging.
Where moments before there had been water and dusty sunlight, now there were three black dots, which would soon grow into ships. They approached from the starboard side, coming to the aid of the barge.
“Get the tow in the water!” Caledonia shouted.
The tow, shaped like an oversized bullet, was a handheld propulsion device capable of pulling a person underwater. Combined with a blue lung that recycled air, that person could stay below for hours. That person was always Pisces.
Pisces would submerge and drive toward the skirt of mines, then trigger them from a safe distance using her pulse gun. It was the worst job on ship, but Pisces gave no evidence of anything except steeled nerves as she pulled on her mask, secured her flexible body armor, and checked her blue lung.
“Keep your distance, Pi. Come back to us.”
Her tow ready in the water, Pisces leapt overboard. Then she was gone.
“Two miles to range!” Amina cried from her perch, eyes on the approaching Bullet ships. They were four miles out, but in two miles, they’d be close enough to open fire and hit the Mors Navis.
At this speed, that translated to minutes. And the crew needed each one.
On Caledonia’s command, the Mors Navis slowed, coming to rest a quarter mile from the barge. Her crew was busy tightening armor over shoulders and thighs, checking their clips, and watching the enemy ships reveal themselves completely: an assault ship, a crusher, and a mag ship. The assault ship was fast and would be heavily armed, the crusher designed for devastating impact, but the mag ship was the one that worried Caledonia. It would be armed with a system of magnetized harpoons. If they landed on the hull of the Mors Navis, they’d be able to hold her immobilized while the other ships attacked at will.
An explosion shot up from the water surrounding the barge. Pisces had found her first target and punched a small hole in the perimeter of cable mines. Now they waited for the second—to see how far the mines were spread apart, and to see if Pisces had survived the shockwave. On the deck of the barge, Scythes aimed rifles at the water and began to fire at Pisces.
These were torturous minutes. Caledonia inhaled slowly, scanning her crew. Amina hung in the rigging with the rest of her Knots, whispering a prayer to the sky. Redtooth crouched with her chosen raiding party in one of two bow boats swinging halfway down the starboard hull.
A second explosion spiked ten feet from where the first had been. Pisces was alive, and she’d just given them an entry point.
The barge would be theirs.
CHAPTER THREE
Everything moved at once.
Redtooth and her bow boats dropped to the water with a proud smack. Their engines roared to life, and the girls raised their plates of armor along the starboard side, locking them into a solid wall for cover from the approaching ships.
“Take them to the deep!” Caledonia lunged onto the cabin of the bridge, taking the shiny brass wheel from Lace and kicking the Mors Navis into high gear. She aimed her ship’s nose directly at the Bullets, and her girls gave a vicious battle cry. Their focused rage reminded her that though she might be the force that kept them all together, they were here by choice.
The assault ship fired. Two precious missiles streaked across the sky. Amina’s voice rang out, followed by gunfire. The Knots were sharp-eyed and shot each missile down midflight. They burst harmlessly in the air over the ocean.
Near the barge, another explosion erupted from the water. Redtooth now had plenty of room to maneuver right next to the bale barge and plant the mines that would sink it. Caledonia’s job was to give them as much time as possible.
The approaching Bullet ships sped up. Wind sang through the ghost funnels mounted to their decks, creating a discordant, ethereal howl that sent an involuntary shiver down Caledonia’s spine. Soon, the mag ship broke away, sailing over the remaining distance to the Mors Navis, trailed by the heavy-prowed crusher.
This was to be a halt and hit—the mag ship would move behind the Mors Navis, hook her with magnetic anchors, and hold her there while the crusher came in full tilt to hit her broadside. The Mors Navis was as tough as her crew, but she was shallow in the draft. A strong hit from a ship like that could topple her. Caledonia revved her jets again and turned her nose toward the mag ship, offering the smallest target possible.
“Cable cutters ready!” Tin’s order traveled down the line as girls prepared for the inevitable. She and her sisters commanded the deck with seamless efficiency. “Fire!”
Guns and rifles fired, the air turned gray with smoke, but the mag ship was undeterred.
With only feet to spare, the mag ship turned broadside and skated across the water to pace the Mors Navis. A small crew of Bullets greeted them with leering, hungry faces and a dozen gun barrels. The girls raised a wall of shields, and gunfire sparked against it. Before the girls could recover from the onslaught, the mag ship slipped into their wake and fired five magoons.
The hull of Caledonia’s ship was a patchwork of metal and wood stitched together with heavy, waterproof seams of black tar. If even one of the mags hit wood, they stood a chance. But Caledonia heard the magnetized tethers attach one by one to patches of metal and knew they’d need grit over luck. She kept her ship’s pace, but steered slightly toward the barge to buy a few seconds.
It didn’t matter. As her crew traded fire with that of t
he mag ship, the five tethers connecting the two ships drew tight.
The Mors Navis began to slow.
Amina and the Knots turned their guns on the mag ship and opened fire, desperately trying to clear the way for their own crew to get over the rail of the Mors Navis and cut the magoon cables. The Bullets fired relentlessly. Shots sparked against their hull and soon found flesh and bone. Blood darkened the deck, the air thick with smoke and shouts and cries. Caledonia watched the scene unfurling with a sinking heart. Clearing the way for the cable cutters to dislodge the magoons would take time they did not have.
The assault ship drove forward now, heading not for the Mors Navis, but for the barge and Redtooth. That meant that the crusher—fitted with a deadly metal wedge on its nose—would turn on the Mors Navis. A direct hit from that ship would sink them for sure.
This was a perfect trap, but traps only worked when you thought your opponent couldn’t surprise you.
“Amina!” she cried, and Amina slipped down the ropes to join Caledonia on deck. “Time to give your new web a try.”
Shots hissed around them as the two girls hurried to collect Amina’s latest design—three charges that could create a web of electricity. Anyone caught between them would get a deadly shock. But it required each charge to land within twenty feet of the others.
“Work fast,” Amina instructed, calmly calibrating the charges and loading the three guns. “If they detach before we get all three in place, it won’t work.”
In the distance, the assault ship was closing in on the barge. Time pushed at Caledonia’s heart, but she breathed in once to slow it, then lifted the first gun to her shoulder and aimed for the deck of the mag ship. Amina did the same. “Three, two, one.”
The kick of the guns was severe, but both shots hit their intended targets. Amina reached immediately for the third gun and fired. Caledonia didn’t wait to confirm the shot landed before hitting the button on the remote trigger.
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