Silence settled between them. It felt like the air had gone brittle and was ready to snap in half. Caledonia knew she should tell Pisces that she trusted her. She should go further than that and prove her trust by encouraging Pisces to visit the boy in their hold, but her mouth sealed itself around the knowledge that he was dangerous. Her skin burned at the memory of Lir’s fingers brushing along her jaw and into her hair. That single moment of intimacy had destroyed so much, and Pisces had held this boy’s head in her lap. He would lure Pisces into thinking he was better than he could possibly be. He would convince her to help him. And then he’d hurt her. Maybe the whole crew. All the girls they had fought so hard to keep alive. When that happened, that seed of anger Pisces spoke of would explode. It would destroy her.
“Well,” Pisces said at last, sadness evident in the dip of her chin. “Someone should tend to him. The faster he gets through this, the more use he’ll be to us.”
The room felt much smaller than it already was, yet it seemed that Pisces was miles away. The two had fought often over the years, sometimes furiously, but they always came back together. This would be no different, Caledonia was sure. She was sure. But it was strange to realize that as much as she trusted their friendship would survive, she didn’t trust Pisces as much as she meant to. If she did, she’d tell her about Lir and the Bale Blossom. She’d tell her about what really happened that night on the beach, about what she was responsible for.
But if Pisces knew the truth, she might leave Caledonia forever. And that was a risk Caledonia couldn’t take. At least, not yet.
A pounding on the door startled them both.
Caledonia had barely shouted for the girl to enter when Nettle appeared, breathing hard and sweating. In the next moment, the engines roared to life.
“Captain.” Her tone carried the hard edge of battle. With her next word she confirmed it. “Gulls.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
On deck, the scene was dramatically changed from just a few hours earlier. The bow was cleared of guns and girls, no lines of laundry hung below the sun sail, and a team of a dozen girls was quickly folding away the fishing nets and making the ship ready for high speeds. Anything that could fly loose from its riggings was tied down or strapped into place.
“There,” Nettle said, pointing to figures running high on the cliffs, now racing by as the ship gained speed. “The bow boats spotted them.”
The Mors Navis raced into open waters, leaving the shelter of the canals.
Breaking away from the southern tips of the Rock Isles were more than a dozen surface craft, only large enough for a single person to ride. They shot off the lower cliffs, landing with so much force they dove beneath the surface and disappeared from sight for long moments. When they reappeared, they flew several feet into the air before hitting the water and zipping forward. Each rider wore a blue lung, enabling them to stay under for as long as they needed. It was this ability to dive and resurface that earned them their name: Gulls.
They were pirates in the oldest sense of the word. Scavenging and looting their way across the seas. Knowledge of a bounty on the Mors Navis would certainly have piqued their interest, but they’d take any ship that crossed their path, even a Bullet ship if they thought they could get away clean.
Until now, Caledonia had only encountered them in stories. It was the sort of tale you heard in port from men slush-mouthed and thick in their cups, the sort a few of her girls told in constricted, traumatized tones.
“Masts up! Knots high!” Caledonia called, racing toward the bridge where she could see fore and aft.
The mast blocks snapped open. Soon the posts were up, and Amina’s team of Knots were climbing high with rifles slung over their shoulders. On deck, Redtooth scattered her crew on all sides, setting up two-girl teams to shield and shoot.
Pisces stuck with Caledonia, eyes tracking the approaching vessels.
Thirteen Gulls raced south. Their arms and torsos were wrapped in segmented armor, polished to reflect the sun into the eyes of their prey. Their faces were obscured by masks covering their eyes and nose and holding the respirator of the blue lung in place. They were eerily quiet, the only sound the chorus of their individual engines. They fanned out, leaving long tails in their wake.
“Captain.” Amina came up behind her. “The two just there.”
She pointed toward the center of the flock. Caledonia followed her line, her eyes landing on two Gulls dragging small trailers behind them.
“Hull breakers.” Pisces moved forward with small, stunned steps. “Big ones.”
Amina clenched her jaw and raised her eyes to the sky, swearing beneath her breath.
“Put me in the water,” Pisces said, rolling her shoulder and doing her best not to wince. “I can plant stasis mines in our wake and get out before they close in.”
Stasis mines would float at a depth of ten feet and ignite when a Gull passed within their range. It would require many mines for no guaranteed return. And the more the Gulls spread out, the harder they would be to pick off.
“No, we need them to close in. Pi, stay out of the water. Amina, as soon as they’re in range, you and your Knots target the bombers. We’re going to reduce speed and let them come.”
The girls’ hands met briefly between them, squeezing tight, then all three moved at once. Amina ran toward the main deck. Pisces raised her voice, telling everyone to prepare to take fire. And Caledonia ducked onto the bridge to give the order to reduce propulsion.
The distance between the Gulls and the ship began to shrink; the space between each of the Gulls widened. Caledonia kept her eyes on the hull breakers, densely packed shrapnel bombs with enough power to puncture the hull several times over. The devices were too heavy to launch through the air, and so the Gulls would get as close as possible before slingshotting them across the top of the water toward the Mors Navis. Caledonia would have to lure the hull breakers close enough that her Knots could do their best work and take out the Gulls dragging them.
For a few seconds, the only sound was the whip of water against the hull, the happy purr of her engines, the sea birds overhead. Then the air split around a scatter of gunfire. One Gull fell from his vessel into the ocean, dead by a single, perfectly placed bullet from a Knot high on the mainmast. Before another shot could be fired, a horn sounded, and one at a time the Gulls dipped below the water until none were left.
Caledonia’s gut sank with them. She’d underestimated their tech. Allowed the gap between them to diminish. And now they were out of sight.
“Oh, hell. Eyes sharp, girls, eyes sharp!” Redtooth raced down the line, scanning the water for any sign of where they’d gone.
Behind them, the ocean frothed white with their own wake. It was impossible to determine which bit of chop might point to a Gull some distance beneath the surface.
“Engines to full!” Caledonia called.
At the helm, Tin worked with a steady hand, responding to the captain’s commands but not quite anticipating them, creating a gap in the rhythm.
Caledonia turned her eyes forward. The sea was a wide, unknowable plane. They could only drive south and hope they were faster than the Gulls below.
Every girl on board was tense, their eyes and guns trained on the invisible enemy. With each moment that passed, the tension grew, thickening in the air like dough.
Then, finally, a cry from a girl posted on the port side of the aft deck. It was followed by a quick rattle of gunfire. Caledonia spotted the pops of water several yards away. Some short distance beneath the surface, silver flashed in the sun as it traveled toward the ship. Her girls concentrated their fire on that spot, and suddenly the water exploded, surging upward with the dangerous force of a destroyed hull breaker bomb. It was followed by the sound of metal snapping against metal. The girls hit the deck, pressing their bodies tight to the gritty surface as shrapnel flew overhead.
; It was over in a second. Redtooth’s voice carried them all to their feet. “No damage!” And Caledonia knew they’d gotten lucky in more ways than one. Not only had they hit one of the hull breakers, but it had been far enough beneath the surface that the shrapnel was all but useless.
She had no time to enjoy the victory. Gulls shot from the water on all sides of the Mors Navis. One bobbed to the surface, pierced by shrapnel that glittered terribly in the sunlight, dripping blood and oil into the clear blue sea. Oil. It snagged Caledonia’s attention. They didn’t use sun tech. Their range would be limited.
Three down. That left ten, one of which carried a second hull breaker. Caledonia counted the Gulls now pacing them on either side. Nine. And no hull breaker in sight. She would have to drive them up.
“Hard to starboard!” she called.
The girls latched their harnesses to whatever was nearest as the bridge crew complied. With no more warning than Caledonia’s command, the ship pivoted sharply. The hull bit into the water, swiveling in a tight semicircle and driving a violent wave forward as they changed directions.
No matter how agile the Gull’s vessels were, if any were lurking beneath the Mors Navis during that, they’d be tumbling like a shell.
Those on the surface, however, skirted the resulting wake and regrouped faster than Caledonia had hoped was possible. Her crew fired relentlessly. The Gulls stayed just shy of full range, which meant they were spending ammo for nothing more than a comfortable lead. Eventually they’d run out of both.
One of Amina’s spider nets would be more than a little useful right now. Caledonia tried not to let her mind linger on the charges they’d failed to get from Hesperus. They’d need all of Nettle’s stolen charges to take on the Electra. Not even one could be spared.
Caledonia turned and found herself face-to-face with Lovely Hime. The girl had divested herself of her apron and strapped a gun belt around her waist. Her long braid rippled down her back in the wind, leaving the lower part of her scarred ear and jaw uncharacteristically exposed.
Protest was instinct when it came to Hime. But something about the look in her eyes stayed Caledonia’s objection.
Hime lifted her hands. They’re driving us. Herding us toward the tall grass flats.
Caledonia recalled the area of Hesperus’s map directly south of the Rock Isles covered in hash marks for no discernable reason. Tall grasses would gum up their system and pull them to a dead halt. If the Gulls wanted them stationary, that was an excellent way to ensure it happened.
Behind them, the Gulls rode in a V formation, and now Caledonia noted how they were holding their pace. Sunlight gleamed sharply off their metal plates, their masks menacing and cold, and they hung back just far enough to apply pressure, hemming her in on the port side and pushing gently west. They were doing exactly as Hime said, and Caledonia had missed it.
Caledonia let the scenarios unspool in her mind. If they kept this course, they risked finding themselves mired in the tall grass waters. If they pushed east, the Gulls would resume their attack, applying pressure until she ran out of ammo and relented. They could survive the onslaught, but the threat of the hull breaker was too much to ignore. She needed to draw them into a fight.
“Get belowdecks and stay there. Amina! Knots low! Retract the masts!” Caledonia raced toward the bridge, taking the stairs two at a time. “Reduce propulsion. We’re going to pull them in close, spin the ship, and swat them away. Ready on thrusters,” Caledonia continued. “We need them synchronized. Ready, Tin?”
“Aye, Captain.” Tin’s hands fidgeted on the wheel, dancing away and back as though it were uncomfortable to hold.
“Good. Adjust heading four degrees port, then slow it down and wait for hard spin on my mark.”
The ship began to slow, and shouts of “Hard spin! Hard spin, girls! Latch in!” were tossed down the line. Caledonia stood just outside the bridge where she could keep her eyes on the Gulls. As they realized the Mors Navis was pushing east, they adjusted course and, one by one, slipped beneath the surface.
When she was sure the Gulls had caught up to them, she gave the order for maximum acceleration. And as the Mors Navis drove through the waves, Gulls shot out of the water on all sides. Their guns were ready, and they fired mercilessly as they flew through the air.
Without the Knots to shoot from above, it was up to the girls on deck to return fire. They rotated shields and gave as good as they got.
Caledonia watched the scene. Her girls were vulnerable on the deck, taking fire from above and below. It was impossible to defend against. In their midst, she spotted Hime, guns raised, teeth gritted, the blue ribbon in her hair catching the sunlight for a split second. There was a voice in Caledonia’s mind screaming to protect them, to change course and find another way. But she’d made this decision because there was no other way.
She waited. Watching for her opening. The Gulls wove around the stern of the ship, never crossing the midsection, never trying to get in front of her. Then, there was the moment Caledonia was waiting for: The Gulls clustered on their port side, the one dragging the hull breaker now visible beneath the chop. If they did this right, they could take out all ten with the body of the ship itself.
“Now!”
The ship began to nose into a wide arc. Not the hard spin she’d planned.
Caledonia could see the moment unraveling around her. On the bridge, Tin was at the helm, panic in her eyes as she tried and failed to bring the ship into a spin. Just as she feared the plan was done, Tin slipped from view. The thrusters roared, and the boat spun.
Caledonia could do nothing but hold on as the entire ship rotated like a top on the water’s surface. Fast, much faster than she’d expected it to be. Her stomach lurched against her backbone and stayed there.
The moment felt longer than it must have been. By the time they stopped, the sea frothed in all directions, and Caledonia heard the sounds of crew members coughing or vomiting over the sides.
But they’d done precisely what they’d meant to. The remaining Gulls had been helpless in the face of so much spinning metal. Their vessels were spread across a quarter mile of ocean in all directions, their riders flailing between them. It would take them time to recover, and by then, the Mors Navis would be too far to chase. Somehow, they’d done it. Someone had.
Caledonia unlatched herself, ready to commend whoever had saved the maneuver. But the bridge was silent, stunned. To one side, Tin slumped against the open windows, drawing in deep breaths of fresh air. Behind her, the bridge crew adjusted thrusters in anticipation of a new course. And at the wheel, with her hands planted firmly against the brass, was none other than Nettle.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
When they’d put a comfortable amount of distance between the Mors Navis and the Gulls, the command crew retreated to the map room.
Nettle now sat in the seat Oran had occupied four days before. The girl kept her hands in her lap, her chin up and eyes wide. A strategy, perhaps, for a young girl who’d made an art of appearing more vulnerable than she was, of slipping through crowds and out of minds as quickly as she appeared in them.
To one side of the girl, Redtooth stood with her back to the wall, almost but not quite out of Nettle’s peripheral vision. Hime sat at the table, hands resting lightly on top. Across the room, Pisces leaned a hip against the map table, her fingers tangled in the chain around her neck. Amina was the last inside, and she pulled the door shut behind her.
“Why were you on the bridge?” Caledonia stood across from Nettle, hands braced against the table.
Nettle’s eyes skated nervously around the room before she answered. She knew she was trapped, and for the first time, fear slid across her eyes. “I’m better at the helm than I am with a gun, and I thought you might need the help.”
“Did I ask for your help?” Caledonia asked, even though everyone in the room knew the answer. Her poin
t was in the following question. “Did I give you an order?”
Nettle gulped. “Yes, Captain.”
“And what was that order?”
“To do as Amina instructed.”
“And did you follow that order?” The girl had done good work, but only by dismissing the rules of the ship. Caledonia could not let that go unexamined.
Nettle looked to Amina. Her shoulders straightened, and she sat up. “Captain, I did.” Caledonia opened her mouth to call out the lie, but before she could speak, Nettle pressed her advantage. “Amina told me that every action I took should serve you and the crew. I saw the execution of your order failing, and I stepped in to make sure you succeeded.” She paused, looking from Caledonia to Amina and back. “For the good of the crew. We act together or not at all, right? That’s rule number two? Well, I acted with you.”
Redtooth’s brow furrowed sharply, and she shifted on her feet as she frequently did when working through a puzzle. Across the room, Pisces’s expression remained unreadable, though Caledonia felt certain she knew her friend’s opinion on the matter.
“For the good of the crew,” Caledonia repeated. “And what made you think you could do what my bridge crew couldn’t?”
Nettle’s bravado faded a little. “I’ve done it before. I told you, I’m better at the helm than I am with a gun.” Her sincerity was tinged with a sadness Caledonia recognized and didn’t want to touch.
“You will stay off of my bridge until I put you there, or I’ll put you over.”
Amina took a step forward. Not toward the girl, but toward Caledonia.
“I’ll serve you well anywhere you put me, Captain,” Nettle said, tentative yet daring. With a glance toward Amina, she added, “But I’ll serve you best as a member of your bridge crew.”
Caledonia let that sit in the room for a second before dismissing the girl. “Out.”
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