Compass Rose

by Anna Burke

  I didn’t see how a public beating at Orca’s hands was going to improve my standing. If anything, it should make things worse for me. If the mercenaries already saw me as soft and weak, watching me fight was certainly not going to disprove their suspicions.

  The second flaw was also Orca. The first mate and the navigator didn’t operate in the same sphere, but our paths would certainly overlap. Orca’s hatred was going to be an issue, and more time spent in her company only seemed to fuel it.

  “Take these,” Orca said, shoving some wraps at me. There were a few other sailors in the room, but my vision was focused very narrowly. If I could land just one punch on Orca’s perfectly straight nose, I would be satisfied. I wrapped my hands carefully, wondering how much damage my healing right hand would suffer, and grateful that my ankle, at least, had stabilized.

  “No head shots,” Orca said in a voice that suggested a head shot was exactly what she wanted to do, too. “Let’s see what you’re made of, jelly.”

  She sounded too much like Maddox. The pulsing feeling behind my eyes grew.

  Orca stood loosely, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet while she weighed me. We were of a height, which meant she didn’t have much reach on me, but I had no illusions about my chances. I didn’t think even Harper would have been able to hold her own against Orca.

  Her first swing hit me in the ribs. Breath whistled through my teeth even as I sensed the control in her punch. I would be bruised, but nothing was broken.

  I managed to block her second. She didn’t leave me much time to celebrate. Her kick knocked my legs out from under me and I gasped like a fish out of water for a few moments, letting the laughter from the onlookers fan my anger.

  Orca looked amused when I struggled to my feet.

  “Who taught you to fight? Your grandma?”

  I feinted and aimed for her stomach. She blocked my punch easily and lashed out at my face with one of her own. I ducked just in time.

  So much for no head shots.

  “I wonder what will happen if I knock your compass right out of your ass,” she said.

  I gritted my teeth and kicked.

  She grabbed my leg and threw me to the ground as my heel collided with her thigh. This time, I was almost ready for it, and rolled into the fall, reaching for Orca’s legs. She sidestepped and aimed a kick at my ribs. I blocked it with my forearm, feeling the impact up into my shoulder.

  “On your feet. You wanna learn how to fight? Then show me what you’ve got.”

  I lunged for her. It was a rookie mistake, and she sidestepped again, landing a blow on my back. I turned, breathing heavily. Her smile soothed my bruises with a balm of rage. Orca was everyone who had ever hurt me, all rolled into one slim package. I would bring her to her knees.

  Although, I reflected as I landed on the ground again, maybe not today.

  Orca stood over me, smirking as she offered me a hand up. I stared at the jellyfish brand on her palm, then grabbed hold of her wrist and kicked out with my legs. She fell on top of me, whipping my arm around behind my back and looping her leg around my throat.

  I smiled into the crook of her knee, tasting blood. It was a dirty move, and she had come out on top, but it had worked. One point to Compass Rose, I told myself.

  Orca released me slowly. This time she didn’t offer me a hand.

  “You want to fight dirty?”

  She launched herself at me, and I shielded my face with my arms as blow after blow landed on my body.

  “First mate,” said a deep, male voice.

  I lay on the ground without moving. Every part of my body hurt. I could hear Orca breathing heavily.

  “I expected better from you.”

  It was Kraken.

  “Neptune’s balls, Kraken, are you defending her?”

  “I’m defending you.”

  Orca had nothing to say to that. Kraken knelt down beside me and placed a massive hand on my shoulder. “Can you breathe?”

  “Yes,” I wheezed.

  “She’s fine,” Orca said, but there was a touch of panic in her voice.

  “She’s about as fine as you were, the first time Miranda gave you a taste of her fist in the ring. Only you grew up brawling and raiding, instead of looking at charts.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. The wheeze worsened.

  “See, she’s fine.” Orca sounded defensive.

  “On your feet, fleeter.” Kraken helped me rise.

  I stared at him out of one eye. The other was swelling shut. I squared my shoulders, which produced a painful grating sensation that definitely hadn’t been there a few moments ago. Kraken patted my back, which emphasized the pain. I raised my fists and assumed a fighting stance.

  “Now,” I said to Orca, with more self-control then I was aware I possessed, “why don’t you show me how to block myself from assholes like you?”

  I heard the gurgle of the bio-lights in the silence that filled the room after my words. Nobody cheered, but nobody was laughing anymore, either.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Orca said with scorn. I met her eyes with my good one, and was gratified to see the tiniest bit of discomfort on her face.

  The watching crew stepped out of my way as I limped off the mat. Kraken’s frown followed me, and he whispered something to Orca that I didn’t catch.

  “Yeah, Rose,” someone called out from the back of the room. I squinted in the dim light. Jeanine. I felt a sliver of hope worm its way into my chest. Jeanine’s solitary clapping echoed in the silence. I would take it.

  “Did I break any of your precious bones?” Orca asked as she walked with me to the showers. I ignored her. “I was speaking to you, fleeter.”

  I turned and faced her, blocking hallway traffic, and held up my palm. The half-healed wounds glared angrily from the puckered flesh.

  “I’m not a fleeter.” I registered interested looks from the onlookers, but couldn’t focus on their faces.

  “Once a fleeter, always a fleeter,” she hissed back.

  “Watch yourself, Orca,” said a low voice from behind her. I squinted, but could not make out the face. The voice sounded like Annie. “You’re forgetting where our captain came from.”

  If my jaw hadn’t been swollen mostly shut, it would have fallen open. Miranda? From the Archipelago? It wasn’t possible.

  “Careful, Annie. We don’t want to give your pet navigator any ideas.”

  “I think you’ve given her plenty.” There was disgust in Annie’s voice. “I expected better from you.”

  It was exactly what Kraken had said.

  “Why?” I asked. “Why did you expect better?”

  Annie didn’t answer, and Orca grabbed my wrist and pulled me along after her.

  “Strip,” she ordered when we arrived at the showers.

  “Over my dead body.” It came out in a slur.

  “Look, fleeter. I’m not sorry for kicking your ass. But you’re not tracking blood all over my room.”

  Her hands were surprisingly gentle as she tugged at the hem of my shirt. I tried to glare at her, but the effort made my skull throb.

  “Come on,” she said as I pulled away.

  “No.”

  “You’re in no shape to take care of yourself.”

  “Your fault,” I pointed out.

  “Suit yourself. But I’m staying. Leave it to a fleeter to pass out and drown in the shower instead of the ocean.”

  “Fuck you,” I said.

  Orca stepped away from me without comment. I struggled with my shirt, managing to work it up over my head despite my bruised ribs. My bra was more difficult. I fumbled with the strap until Orca let out a disgusted sound and unsnapped it for me.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  The look on Orca’s face as she assessed the damage she’d inflicted said more about my physical state than my personal inventory of aches and pains.

  “Shit,” she said, looking genuinely surprised.

  I shucked myself out of my pants and shivered in
my underwear. “You can leave that on if you want,” she said, “but I’m not going to try anything. It’s nothing either of us haven’t seen before.”

  I stepped out of my underwear.

  “All right,” she said, yanking the curtain shut around us. “I’m going to turn the water on. It’s going to sting. Are you ready?”

  “Sure.” I refused to flinch as the water hit my body. Most of the cuts were on my face. My lips were busted and my nose felt pulpy, and there was a scrape above one eye that stung horribly in the salty water.

  “I’m sorry, fleeter.”

  For a moment I thought the sound of the shower had altered her words.

  “What?” I asked through swollen lips.

  “I’m sorry, okay? Don’t make me say it again.”

  I stared at her. You’re not sorry now, I thought, but you will be. I would make her pay for this. I was not a mess she could just clean up and wash away. The beating she’d given me today would be returned, no matter how hard I had to work to perform the honors.

  • • •

  I ignored Orca that night and huddled as best I could into my hammock. Nothing was broken, only bruised, but it hurt to breathe and I had a pounding headache. Orca paced the room and finally left, leaving me in blissful silence. I was asleep by the time she came back in, but not before I’d engaged in several detailed fantasies where I kicked her skinny ass into next week in front of Miranda and the entire crew of the Man o’ War. Then I allowed myself the brief illusion that Miranda would see the state I was in and order Orca flogged or, better yet, beat her up herself.

  I knew the reality would be quite different. Shame and anger warred within me as I stared into the green-tinged dark. Miranda would see that I was as weak as her crew thought I was, and I would die of some strange disease far from the Archipelago and everyone I knew. Worse, Comita wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened to me, and I would never get to see Harper or my mother again.

  Comita had sent me here to suffer, I decided. This wasn’t a pact to save the Archipelago; it was a personal punishment for rising too quickly through her ranks. Maddox was right. I didn’t belong there, and I sure as hell didn’t belong here.

  The only difference, I comforted myself as I fell asleep, was that here at least I might get to take out a little bit of my frustration. Miranda had given me the perfect opportunity for revenge, as long as I was allowed to continue training with Orca. Even if she beat me senseless every day, there would eventually come a round where my fist could collide with her face, relieving her of her teeth and good looks.

  Breakfast the next morning was a nightmare. Silence met my arrival, and even Orca seemed a little subdued. I didn’t wait to see if Miranda would show up. I took my tray and sat by Annie, who moved over with one of her frowns.

  “Neptune’s big ol’ blue balls,” Finnegan said appreciatively. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Something that isn’t going to happen twice.” I ate my mash carefully, grateful for its mushy consistency.

  “Tonight,” Annie said without any preamble. “Meet me in the training yard after dinner. Before you spar with that one.” She jerked her head in Orca’s direction. “Eat light.”

  As if dinner here could be anything but light. My stomach grumbled.

  “Captain’s coming,” Finnegan said.

  I kept my face averted from Miranda’s view. It was just my luck that today she decided to show up for breakfast when she hadn’t been present in almost a week.

  “Must be back from a raid,” said Jeanine. “Hide your face, little fishy,” she added for my benefit, making a fish face at me with her lips.

  “A raid?” That got my attention.

  “Life out here isn’t free, chica. Someone’s got to pay for it, and our captain makes sure it isn’t us.”

  “She leaves the ship?” This was counter to everything I’d ever learned about captaincy.

  “Not for very long. If I were her, though, I’d pick someone prettier than Kraken to go with me.”

  “Anytime you wanna take a private boat ride, I’m all yours,” Finnegan said around a mouthful of food.

  “Like I said. Someone prettier. That rules you out, Finn.”

  Finnegan pretended to look upset, but the surprised look on Jeanine’s face and the slap she gave him a few seconds later suggested his hand had wandered beneath the table. I smiled, cracking my lips open again.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked Annie.

  “I’m going to show you a few things Orca doesn’t know. Has she let you off your leash yet?”

  The smile that split her wrinkled face sent a shiver of vengeful hope down my spine. I decided I wouldn’t bet against Annie in a fight.

  “No. Miranda’s orders. Apparently I can’t protect myself.”

  “You’re not in a position to change her mind about that,” Annie pointed out. “How is your hand healing up?”

  I glanced at the bandage. I’d been doing my best to keep it clean, but the skin had a puckered, angry look beneath the cloth.

  “Healing.”

  “Good. We’ve lost crew members before to infection.”

  “Where did Miranda get her scars?”

  Annie met my question with a shrewd look.

  “You mean you haven’t heard of Miranda?”

  I shook my head.

  “Jelly,” Orca said, interrupting. “It’s time to get to work.”

  I stood slowly and glared at her, shouldering past her with my tray. Her gray eyes snapped back, showing none of the guilt they’d been full of last night.

  • • •

  There were new charts waiting for me, along with a note from Miranda.

  Fleet patrol coordinates. 2506-2515.

  The dates surprised me. Each chart corresponded with one of the years, and I leafed through the pages in the binder in confusion. The charts were not drawn using the fleet shorthand, and it was disconcerting to think that our movements had been tracked so meticulously.

  There was something here that Miranda wanted me to see. I put a hand over my bruised eye to block out the light and spread the charts across the table.

  Fleet territory shifted from year to year as the stations floated with the currents. There was nothing unusual about the drift. It followed the same pattern. North in the summer and south in the winter, tracking the optimal temperature. I had seen these charts before, back on the North Star, and had plotted a few myself.

  My stomach rumbled. I glanced at the sky, noting the passage of time in the sun’s zenith. What would be lunchtime on the North Star had come and gone, leaving me hungry, bruised, and with a headache that made it difficult to focus. My eyes swam a little as I stared at the charts spread before me in chronological order. The charts blurred, the lines waving back and forth like seaweed, expanding and contracting with my pulse.

  Only the lines weren’t expanding, I realized with a start. They were contracting, yes, a few miles each year, but while the coordinates shifted as expected, the range decreased. The Archipelago was losing water.

  I leaned closer to the charts, transfixed. The smaller stations were drifting inward, and there were little divots in their range. Something was nibbling away at it, like fish at a carcass. Some of the loss, I recalled from memory, was due to huge swaths of dead sea. That did not explain the slow recession, or the fact that the biggest fleets lost the least ground while stations with a smaller naval presence lost more.

  “How long has this been going on?” I asked Miranda when she swung by an hour later. Miranda didn’t even seem to notice my face, or the bruises on my arms.

  “These are all the records I have,” she said. “I am sure if you compared all of the fleet logbooks for the past fifty years you’d see something similar.”

  “Why?”

  Her eyebrows raised at my question.

  “You really have no idea, do you?” She shook her head in genuine surprise, and braced her elbows on the table to rest her chin in her hands. “You can
find north from the belly of a whale, but you can’t see a shark five feet away from you, can you?”

  Seeing as the only thing five feet away from me at the moment was Miranda herself, this statement was a little unsettling.

  “The Archipelago,” she continued, “is like a school of fish. Lose a few here and there, and none of the other fish notice. Lose too many fish at once and the school weakens. Now,” she said, reaching out and taking my left hand. She turned the palm over and drew a firm circle on the unbroken skin. “Pirates are like sharks. They circle, taking a few fish as needed. You following?”

  I nodded.

  “Imagine that school of fish in a tank. That’s the ocean. Then put a leak in it. As the water drains, there is less and less territory for both the fish and the sharks.” Her finger drew a smaller circle. “What do you think happens to the fish?”

  “Maybe you should ask me a different question,” I said, struggling to keep my cool. Her touch was doing far more than illustrating her point. At her raised eyebrow, I continued. “What happens to the sharks after they eat all of the fish?”

  Miranda’s laughter startled me, as did the friendly squeeze to my hand.

  “You’re so much more entertaining than an ordinary compass. Has anyone ever told you that?” She grinned at me.

  “Maybe. I don’t remember them using exactly those words.”

  “You’ll make a good second mate one day, once you figure out how to avoid catching fists with your face.”

  She stood to go, but paused by my bench on her way out and raised a warm hand to my swollen jaw.

  “That’s the difference between fish and sharks,” she said, running her thumb along the worst of the bruise. “Schooling fish will stick together until the bitter end. Sharks, though. They’ll turn on each other.”

  I leaned into her hand, the pain from the bruise clearing my thoughts.

  “Which are you?” I gazed up at her.

  “Which are we, my Compass Rose,” she corrected. Her thumb traced my lower lip, and then she patted my cheek with just the slightest measure of force.