I don’t have to see the smirk curling over Santa Elena’s lips. I can all but hear it across the fifty yards that separate us. Behind her, Swift deflates.
Before tonight, my safety on the Minnow was tied to Bao. My bout in the Slew made it clear enough that I can’t defend myself on my own. But if I’m going to make it in this big blue world, I’ll have to learn. And if I’m going to learn, I need the best teacher the seas can give me.
“You have an empty trainee slot,” I say, fighting to keep my voice even as I think of what happened to Code. “I’ve gotten used to sleeping in that bunk, and I want everything else that comes with it. Sign me on as Code’s replacement.”
“Name your terms.”
This is the tricky bit. I’m still delirious from that blow to the head, and exhaustion is weighing heavy on my shoulders. I can’t flub this negotiation, or it’ll all be for naught. With fumbling fingers, I pluck the Otachi from my left wrist. “The people on those boats know exactly who and what came after them. They don’t want me back—they want Bao taken out. Me, I’m nothing. I’m just another person from the fringes now. But he’s a threat to the NeoPacific’s economic ecosystem, an imbalance that needs to be corrected. As long as we have him, they’ll be after us.” I hold out the device with one hand and unlatch the line-hooks from my belt with the other. “So my first condition is that Bao goes free. I’ll set this to call him and then drop it. He’ll follow it to the depths until he can’t any more, and the Minnow takes off. We give him the slip and never go near him again.”
“And what’s your second condition?” the captain asks.
The smell of Bao’s singed flesh is overwhelming as I gather my courage and say, “You never ask me to kill a Reckoner. Give me a place on your ship and I’ll do anything you command, except for that.”
The captain snorts, throwing her head back as a laugh breaks out of her. “Hate to say it, Cassandra, but if that situation were to arise, I’ve already got a trainee with a knack for that sort of thing.” She claps Swift on the back.
I feel as if my stomach’s been tied to a sinking stone. But it takes me a second to fully catch her meaning.
“You—” I stutter. “But you—”
“I put the Nereid ’s beast out of its misery, kid. This clever devil here”—she gives Swift’s shoulders a shake—“snuck into your stables and dosed it with enough cull serum to tear it apart from the inside before the bucket left its berth. With man or monster, Swift always knows where to put a killing blow. Why else do you think I keep her worthless ass around?”
Bao shifts underneath me, and I almost lose my footing on his skull. I want Swift to object, to deny it, but she looks about ready to throw herself into the sea, and there’s something dark rising in me, urging her to do it. Santa Elena may have been the one to land the final strike on Durga, but because of Swift, Durga’s last hours were spent in utter agony.
And of course Santa Elena wouldn’t let me onto her ship without making sure I knew that. Not if I’m going to be one of her precious trainees, not when she has a chance to pit us against each other and see who comes out on top. She stands tall, hands on her hips, soaking in this moment, this victory, and I can’t help but admire her for it.
“Is there anything else?” she asks.
There used to be. But my conditions about Swift and shipboard politics and guaranteeing Swift’s safety fall away until there’s only one thing left standing.
Me.
And as the fury within me comes to boil, I know for sure that I’m ready to take on whatever the captain can throw at me.
“That’s everything,” I declare, and loft the Otachi over my head. “What do you say?”
Santa Elena shrugs. “I say you’re untested. I say everything remarkable about you comes from that beast under your feet. But you’re the only one with the guts to ask for it,” she chuckles, glancing back over her shoulder at the crew. “And there certainly aren’t any ships behind us. That tells me that maybe you’ve got a hint of potential in you. If you don’t, it’ll be fun to see you fail. Drop the Otachi.”
No going back now. I click the device to Bao’s homing signal, and it begins to ring in my hands as the lights flare skyward. For a moment, my fingers curl tighter around the device, but I grit my teeth and force them open one by one as I swing my arm out over the side of Bao’s head. The Otachi slips from my grip and plunges into the inky waves.
Bao must be hurting badly—he rolls slowly after it, heaving in a deep breath through his blowholes. I leap to the side, throwing my arms up over my head as I dive into the water and start swimming for the Minnow’s hull. The NeoPacific swells beneath me. Bao’s massive body slips under the water, and just like that, he’s gone.
If he survives his injuries, he’ll be a legend. The first free Reckoner, like the monsters of old stories. None of our beasts have ever lived a natural life or died a natural death. Maybe he’ll be the first. Until then, he’ll roam. He’ll do as he pleases and answer to no one. He’ll be free.
I find the familiar set of handholds built into the Minnow’s side and start the climb up, my legs shaking horribly as I pull them up out of the water. The weight of the armor drags me down, but I push against it, my jaw set, my eyes narrowed. Jeers echo down from above as some of the crew lean out over the railing. I can’t fall. Not now.
I haul myself up to the main deck and roll over the railing, doing my best to land on my feet. Everything feels shaky, and my breaths come in ragged gasps as I meet the captain’s steely gaze.
“Cassandra,” she says, her smile triumphant. “Welcome aboard.”
Swift stands behind her, staring at me with eyes begging for forgiveness that I can’t give. Here and now—this is equal footing, and I won’t back down from it.
I haul in a breath and grin, letting every vicious thing inside me loose as I shift my focus back to Santa Elena and say, “Captain. Call me Cas.”
The End
Acknowledgments
The process of making a book “happen” takes so many people, but in this case, there’s one man who has to be thanked above all others. Thank you so much, Brian Farrey-Latz, for spotting my pitch, for begging the book out of me, for putting this whole thing in motion, for totally upending my senior year of college, and for coming up with that twisted suicide pill thing. Chapter 4 is forever dedicated to you.
Thanks to the whole team at Flux who helped bring this book to life.
To Thao Le, agent extraordinaire, for negotiating contracts, championing me in battle, and loving the way my characters swear.
To the teachers and mentors I’ve had along the way, especially Austin Bunn, who taught me everything from storytelling to launch party logistics, and Elizabeth Briggs, who kept my head on straight when my publishing career went from zero to sixty in the span of one email.
To my first reader, Marisa Perez-Reyes, who told me without hesitation, and I quote, “Dude, this book is going places.”
To my critique partners: Tara Sim, master of crossover AUs and the Stark to my Cap, and Traci Chee, who’s a pirate queen in her own right. To the kids on the NW who got me started and the ones who kept me going long after we’d left it behind. To the Sixteeners braving this journey with me and the bloggers who’ve been cheering us on all the way.
And to Mom and Dad, Sarah, and Ivy, for tolerating me when I moved back home after college with no job and a little book deal. The future is scary and full of monsters. Thanks for making it less so.