Nettle didn’t wait for a second invitation. She pushed her chair back with a heavy scrape and hurried across the room, where Amina held the door open for her.
“We need a new heading.” Caledonia turned her attention to the map when the girl was gone and the door shut again. She would deal with Nettle after they had a new course.
“She did good, Captain,” Amina said.
“She can’t follow orders.”
“We need a crew that can take initiative when the moment calls for it,” Amina pressed.
“We also need a crew who can do as they’re told. Even when, and especially when, they disagree with me.”
“Don’t forget, her obstinacy is the only reason I have what I need to make an electro-mag strong enough to disrupt Electra’s hull.” It was unusual for Amina to argue in favor of anyone outside her small team of Knots. A fact that escaped no one’s notice. “Her skill is undeniable.”
“I don’t disagree on that count.” Irritation stirred in Caledonia’s chest. “Say what you mean, Amina.”
“I only say what I mean, Captain.”
“Then make your point!”
“We need you to do your job! You’ve left Tin at the helm for long enough, and she’s done a good job, but we need someone who can do the best job.” And suddenly Lace was in each of their minds. Startlingly present.
Caledonia bit down on that same strange blend of loss and irritation. Lace had hardly needed to hear an order before she was completing it, had been sound and capable at the helm, and Caledonia hadn’t realized just how much losing her had shaken her until this moment.
“I know,” she said simply. “We need a new heading.”
For a moment, sadness wrapped them together in the familiar silence of loss. Replacing Lace at the helm wasn’t the same as replacing her in their hearts, but it felt just as terrible. Still, it had to be done and the only person who could do it was Caledonia.
The girls drew in around the table. Pisces pulled Hesperus’s map from its cylinder and spread it out, weighing down each of the four corners with smooth stones. None of their other maps contained much detail of the seas south or west of the Rock Isles. Farther west and north than where they now sailed, Lace’s map marked the Perpetual Storm, where the skies were known to be violent and dangerous, but they’d never come this far to know for sure.
Caledonia had a dim memory of sailing waters in search of a way out of the Bullet Seas. The waves rushed from all sides, the seas biting at the hull. The sky grew suddenly dark, as though the sun had set in the middle of the day. Pisces’s mother had gathered the children and rushed them belowdecks, where they strapped in to keep from being heaved from one side of the room to the other. It had seemed to last for days, which couldn’t be true. However long it was, Rhona had reversed course and taken them safely south again, to the Bone Mouth.
They had never returned. Any notes or maps Rhona might have kept about the event had been destroyed in the attack, and there had never been a need to travel farther than the Rock Isles. Until now.
Hesperus’s map centered on the canals, but the waters around it were charted for at least a hundred miles. Even if there was a chance it couldn’t be trusted, it contained more information, in more detail, than anything else in their collection.
The girls studied it in silence. Amina marked where they were with a small black stone. The waters east of their location would be dense with Bullets, while directly west the tall grasses stretched toward the Perpetual Storm. Directly north were the Rock Isles they’d just left, and south was the wrong direction entirely. If it were possible to sail a straight line through the Rock Isles, they’d reach the Northwater in only a week’s time. As it was, two options lay before them: They could cut due west, pushing through the grass flats and risking their propulsion system in the process, or they could return north, risking another encounter with the Gulls, and from there skirt the western edge of the Rock Isles.
“According to the Bullet—”
“According to Oran,” Pisces cut in. “His name is Oran.” She lifted her chin, daring Caledonia to argue.
“We have two weeks to reach the Northwater and intercept Electra to save our brothers. We know there’s a small fleet after us in the east, which leaves west and north. So.” Caledonia looked up, ready for suggestions.
“Gulls or grass. No good options,” Redtooth remarked with irritation. “It’d be nice to have some good options for a change.”
“I’m inclined to take the grass over Gulls,” Caledonia admitted. “We’ve been running hard, and grass will slow us down, but we’re unlikely to encounter any more Bullets that way, and we know how to manage grass.”
Hime held her nose close to the map, her finger tracing a section of land that skirted the southern bend of the tall grasses, as if looking for a hint of deceit from the mapmaker.
Pisces leaned in. “I think we should return north. We can run slow and quiet and cut west as soon as possible.”
Caledonia studied her friend, unable to determine if this was a real suggestion or another attempt to argue. “If we end up in another fight, we could deplete our ammunition,” she countered. “And we don’t have much to spare.”
“Those Gulls will think twice before coming after us again.” Pisces’s tone was uncharacteristically cool. “And grass is risky.”
“We’ve sailed through grass before.”
Pisces nodded. “But we don’t know how far the flats go. We’ve never sailed these waters, and the Gulls were herding us in that direction for a reason.”
“The map shows that they thin here.” Caledonia took a steadying breath and pressed a finger to a spot on the map where the hash marks were obviously farther apart.
“You really want to trust Hesperus? The man who tried to turn us over for the bounty? How is that any better than trusting a Bullet who saved my life?” Pisces argued.
“I’ll trust a crooked merchant over a dirty Bullet in a heartbeat,” Caledonia fired back.
Pisces eyes widened; she was losing patience just as quickly as Caledonia. “Based on everything we know, the fastest, most reliable way to the northern currents is to move north and cut west as soon as possible.”
“It might be fast, but it could be a minefield. We don’t know how many crews like the Gulls hang close to the Rock Isles, and I don’t want to find out. We’ve been fighting for days. The crew needs a break.”
“What about food?” Pisces pressed. “Far says we have five days, but we all know what that means. It’ll be five days until all we’ve got left is water. If we go north, toward the Rock Isles, we can at least send the bow boats to forage on the coast. There’s no promise of food if we go west.”
“There’s never a promise of food, Pi!”
This wasn’t the familiar terrain of their disagreements, the place where Pisces challenged Caledonia to ensure her plans were sound. Instead, there was fear and frustration between them. They both wanted the same thing: to save their brothers. They were about as far from that goal as they could possibly be. They had no notion of how they would board the Electra when they found her. And the wrong choice now might mean losing Donnally and Ares forever.
Hime straightened and raised her hands decisively. She pointed, drawing all their attention to the same spot on the map she’d been inspecting. These are the Drowning Lands. Dangerous sailing, but many settlements where we can trade for food.
“Are you sure?” Amina asked. “The grasses are still an issue.”
The captain is right, they’re thinner here. Passable, if we do it right.
They’d all heard of the Drowning Lands, a long stretch of marshy lands tucked away in the south. They were rumored to be inhabited, but the people were all but ghosts. Ships that entered the Drowning Lands were never seen again. The location was only speculation, but Hime seemed certain.
“How do you
know?” Caledonia asked.
Hime faltered, her hands fluttering momentarily. I’ve been here before. Long ago.
“Long ago?” Caledonia rounded on the gentle girl, frustration brimming over. “You knew exactly what those Gulls were up to, now you say you know the location of the Drowning Lands, and I’d like to know how.”
Before Hime could answer, Amina’s voice crashed down like a yardarm. “Captain,” she warned. “She just told you she’s been here before.”
Caledonia held her ground. “She also told me she’d stay belowdecks, but that didn’t stop her from taking up arms today.”
I’ve told you. I can fight. I want to fight. Hime’s cheeks flushed as she spoke, her hands moving decisively. You protect me too much.
“You have always needed our protection!” Caledonia nearly shouted.
But I never asked for it!
Amina turned fully to the captain, eyes dangerous. “If she says she’s ready to fight, I believe her. You should, too.”
“She broke the rules, and this entire crew saw her do it!”
“Caledonia!” Pisces shouted.
The breath caught in Caledonia’s throat. Her small world was spinning too fast.
“You need to remember that we are not your enemy. We are your crew. We’re loyal and we will serve you until the end, but that doesn’t mean we’ll be blindly obedient.” Pisces’s hand clenched into a fist.
“I’m not asking you to be obedient. I’m only asking that you follow the rules. To follow me.”
Hime and Amina glanced at each other. Redtooth took a step back.
“The rules don’t keep us safe, Caledonia. We keep one another safe. If you’d trust us to do that, we wouldn’t need rules at all.”
Heat tightened around Caledonia’s neck. Pisces had never challenged her so directly in front of the command crew. And never would have if not for that damn Bullet in their hold. Her small rebellion had turned into something so much more, encouraging Amina and even Hime to act against her orders. It was like sand shifting beneath her feet.
“We need to pick a route.” She pressed her eyes shut for a moment, then resettled them on the map. Grass was trouble, but less trouble than another gunfight. And the possibility of trade for food was stronger than a chance to forage.
“We go west.” Caledonia gave the order with as much conviction as she could muster.
Pisces gave her a hard look. The wall between them grew thicker in that instant. Then she turned and, without another word, left the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Caledonia stood alone on the wing of the bridge as the Mors Navis approached the tall grass flats.
They’d decided to wait until morning to navigate the grassy seas, and it had been a long night for the captain. She tossed in her bunk, hot even though a fresh breeze moved through the cabin. She played through her argument with Amina, but her mind stagnated on the memory of Pisces and her accusations. She couldn’t shake them and couldn’t pinpoint the place where she’d gone wrong. When she eventually slept, her dreams were haunted by a girl whose face flashed between Lace’s wind-chapped cheeks and Nettle’s curling scars. She dreamed of drowning in seas thickly corded with grass and kelp, surrounded by one of Donnally’s sweet songs.
By the time the sun spilled over the horizon, she’d been covered in a thin film of sweat and her hair was a nest around her neck. She’d washed and wrestled her wet hair into a braid so tight it hurt.
The crew was quiet this morning. They moved through their duties without the usual banter that accompanied the rising sun. They may not have been in the room yesterday, but they knew their command crew was uneasy, and it cast a pall over the entire ship.
The Mors Navis was anchored in place and floated without propulsion or thrusters, giving Caledonia time to study the way ahead. While the map gave her a good sense of where to go, finding the specific path was up to her. The longer she looked over the water, the more determined she was to prove she could take them through it. Rhona would have done it without a second thought.
There were no swirls or eddies to suggest large rocks, but there were variations in the surface that spoke to what lay beneath. Most of the water was covered in little ripples, sharp and small with no sense of depth. This was where the grasses were the thickest and most likely to gum up their systems. At a glance, it encompassed the water for miles around. But Caledonia had been watching, letting the water reveal itself, and she’d found a path where the water rose and fell in small waves. That was where the grass was thin, and that was where the Mors Navis would pass.
Something brushed lightly against her arm, and she turned to find Lovely Hime standing with her on the wing. Her braid was tied with one of her bright blue ribbons and pulled forward again, hiding the scars once more. The morning light splashed against the glossy, black strands and shone through her wide oval eyes. She was like a beautifully banded agate, thin layers pressed together in a crescendo of color, but only ever knowable from one inadequate angle.
When they’d brought her aboard, before any of them had learned to speak her language and before she was capable of communicating at all, they’d been struck by the loveliness of her. Even sweating through her withdrawal, raging against demons no one could see except for her, she was lovely. And that was what they’d called her. Little Lovely.
It was only a few weeks before they learned her loveliness ran as deep as the ocean. By that time, the name was a part of the crew. The only difference was that they’d learned her real name, too.
“Good morning,” Caledonia said with her voice and her hands.
Hime smiled, licked her lips, and raised her hands. I’m sorry.
Two words, and Caledonia was cast into the press of emotions she’d worked all night to lock away. A captain needed to care, but even more than that, she needed to keep her mind free of caring too much. Hime had a right to fight, and Caledonia had a right to stop her.
“I understand that you want to fight. But that didn’t go well for Red the first time, and we need you safe, Hime.” Caledonia’s sign was slower than her words, but when it was just the two of them, she didn’t mind. “You are the best healing hand we have. We need you when the fighting is over.”
I am not as fragile as you think. Hime pressed her lips tight together. Her fingers clenched, and she took a moment to ready herself before she spoke again. Do you ever think about going somewhere else?
The sudden change of topic stunned Caledonia enough that she said the first thing that came to her mind: “You mean beyond the Net? No.”
Every girl on this ship had thought about it from time to time. Caledonia would be lying if she said she never had, but the terrible truth was that nothing brought her peace like the thought of driving Aric’s fleet beneath the waves. Like the thought of driving her dagger into Lir’s heart.
And, now, like the thought of bringing her brother home to fight at her side.
Hime’s expression tightened. Her eyes traveled over the water, and Caledonia had the very clear sense that she’d misunderstood the girl. Hime raised her hands. Pisces is right. These grasses are trouble. It’s very rare that anyone gets through them.
There were many things from Hime’s time among Aric’s fleet that Caledonia had chosen not to ask about. No one on this ship needed any more information than Hime was willing to share. As a Scythe, she’d been kept on the barges, her task to tend the bale blossoms from seedling to harvest and transform them into Silt. It was also her job to test every batch. Her addiction was no small beast.
If Hime knew something of these waters from her time as a Scythe, it was worth listening to, though she’d been so thoroughly drugged that it was hard to know if the information was entirely trustworthy.
“Did you sail these waters on your barge?”
Hime looked out over the rippling waters. Her gaze traveling farther than she co
uld possibly see. She raised her hands. Yes. Once. We—we didn’t make it.
Barges were much larger than the Mors Navis, their hulls just as shallow, but they used propellers rather than propulsion that relied on pulling water through the ship at high speeds. It was enough of a difference for Caledonia.
“We will,” she said, eyes still cast ahead. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
Hime paused. Nodded. You read the water like it’s a book. If anyone can get through, it’s you.
Caledonia smiled and called to her deck crew, “Weigh anchor!”
Overhead, the air was peppered with seabirds scooping low over the grass-infested waters to catch fish trapped near the surface. To the north, the Rock Isles had been swallowed by the horizon. The air was warm, the sun climbing, and Caledonia listened to the rhythmic clink of the rising anchor with a sense of confidence in the task ahead. She would take them through these waters, and they’d be that much closer to finding their brothers.
When she returned to the bridge, Tin was at the helm, her bridge crew secure in their stations, and there was Pisces coming off the companionway ladder and heading toward her. Caledonia braced for another argument.
“Ready when you are, Captain.” Pisces gave a nod. All traces of their previous argument were gone. Tucked away and stored while they stood in front of the eyes of the crew. “I have fifteen girls down in propulsion. We’re with you.”
A smile threatened, but Caledonia fought through it. “Engines on full. We’re going to gain as much momentum as possible, then kill the engines and coast. Tin, nose two degrees starboard. We’re aiming for the water with the most chop.”
The Mors Navis climbed quickly to speed, driving faster and faster until they were nearly upon the tall grass flats. Caledonia moved out onto the command deck where her view of the water was clear, waiting as long as possible before giving the order to cut the engines. They powered down, and the ship slid neatly into the slim bend of water that looked like a path.
Suddenly, a hissing noise filled the air. On either side of the ship, long grasses brushed the hull, bending over to drape themselves along the length of the ship. There was no space between the blades; they obscured the water completely. It was as if the sea had transformed into a silky, green fabric that now embraced the ship.
Seafire Page 17
