Compass Rose

by Anna Burke

  “Ugly as sin, isn’t it? They’re actually quite beautiful up close. I had a limited color palette.”

  “You painted that?” I asked.

  She ran a hand over her hair, and I ached to touch the curve of her lips.

  “Have you ever been in a swarm?”

  There was a faraway look to her eyes that stopped me from answering the odd question.

  “It’s incredible.” She shook her head. “Of course, if you’d ever been in a swarm, I’d have to question your credentials.”

  I tried to imagine Admiral Comita showing me her bedroom, and failed. Nothing about this followed protocol.

  “Anyway, these are the captain’s quarters. I’m going to lock you in for the night. There’s a shower there, next to the head, and I have a spare shirt you can borrow.”

  She rummaged through a set of drawers by the bed. The cat’s tail twitched in annoyance at the disturbance as Miranda pulled out an oversize shirt that looked like it belonged to a man twice her size.

  Maybe it did. That would serve me right. I remembered Jeanine’s comment about Miranda and Kraken. The idea of Miranda touching Kraken’s tattooed skin burned more fiercely than the rum.

  “I won’t be back for hours, so you might as well sleep here if Seamus will let you. We’ll figure something else out later. I might put you back with Orca after I flog a few sailors. The last thing I need is to find out that your body got shoved down the head.”

  “It would be the last thing I want, too,” I said with feeling.

  “Quite literally. A shitty situation for everyone involved.” Miranda laughed at my startled face. “What, Comita doesn’t have a sense of humor?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Well, she’s old. She’s earned the right to be an iron bitch.”

  “She’s not that old,” I protested.

  “How long do you think the average person lives, off of the Archipelago?”

  I did a brief tally of the number of gray heads I’d seen on the Man o’ War or among the drifters on Cassiopeia. It was a very small percentage.

  “Fair enough, I guess. But if she’s old, what does that make you?” I asked.

  “Same thing it makes both of us— in the prime of our short lives, which are slipping away as we speak. You’ll be asleep when I get back. If anyone knocks on the door, ignore it. No one will be able to touch you here.”

  She toyed with the collar of her white shirt for a moment, scanning the room for invisible threats.

  “Thank you,” I said in a quiet voice.

  Her eyes snapped back to mine.

  “I’d do the same for any of my crew.”

  The coldness in her voice caught me by surprise. I watched her leave, stunned by the sudden change in her demeanor.

  “And that,” I said to the cat, “is why you never address your captain by her first name.”

  I glanced around the rooms warily and tried the handle of the door. It didn’t budge. Not only was no one getting in, but I wasn’t getting out, either. I sat at the table and peeled myself an orange, absorbing the silence moment by moment.

  Someone had tried to kill me today. Yesterday, Orca had beaten me to a pulp, rather like the red flesh of the blood orange in my hands. A few days before that, Admiral Comita had turned my world upside down and sent me on a mission that hadn’t gotten any clearer, into the hands of a moody captain who, I reluctantly acknowledged, I was drooling after like a lovesick teenager. I got up abruptly, shoving the remaining orange segments into my mouth and stripping down out of my clothes.

  Since I wasn’t dead, I might as well be clean.

  The water in the shower wasn’t hot, but it was fresh. I closed my eyes and let it wash away a week’s worth of salt from my face, hair, and body. I scrubbed at my skin with my hands until I felt raw and my bruises ached from the abuse.

  Half-drunk, half-drowned, and half-asleep, I stepped out of the shower and slipped into the clean shirt.

  It didn’t smell like a man. I shivered as Miranda’s scent washed over me and sat on the bed to steady myself. It gave beneath me gratifyingly and I leaned back, resting my damp head on the pillows. The light dimmed around me, and as I sank into sleep I registered the presence of the cat as he settled himself in the crook of my arm and began to purr.

  A lump welled in my sleepy throat at the contact. I tentatively stroked the soft head and body, my fingers clumsily responding to the cat’s insistent purr. The lump grew.

  What was the point in showering, I thought bitterly, if I was just going to drown myself in tears? I held back the sobs, not wanting to disturb my new friend, and fell asleep to the sound of my ragged breathing.

  • • •

  “Wake up.”

  I nestled instinctively deeper into the covers, not wanting to deal with Orca.

  “That’s an order.”

  I opened my eyes, expecting to see the surly first mate, and found Miranda standing in the doorway instead. She was wearing an undershirt that clung to the firm lines of her body. I shut my eyes and opened them again, willing myself to wake up somewhere else as yesterday crashed over me. Miranda’s face was closed and distant, and the bed appeared untouched save for where I’d lain. I didn’t dare ask her where she’d slept.

  “Yes, Captain,” I said, my mouth thick with sleep and last night’s unshed tears.

  I pulled back the blanket and slipped out of bed, the shirt thankfully falling to my knees. I avoided meeting Miranda’s eye as I made a beeline for the clothes I’d left crumpled on the bathroom floor. They were gone.

  “Looking for these?” Miranda held up my shirt on her finger.

  It was clean.

  I ran a hand nervously through my hair, feeling the nightshirt take a leap toward my upper thigh. I pulled it down again. She tossed my clothes toward me, and I caught them awkwardly, trying to keep the collar of the shirt from slipping off one shoulder.

  Miranda’s eyebrow arched very slightly, and I turned away to hide my face.

  You were nearly killed yesterday, I reminded myself. You could be killed today. This woman is not your friend. She is your only chance of survival, and she will never be anything more.

  I pulled my pants on as quickly as I could. My heel caught at the hem and I jumped around for a step or two, feeling the color in my cheeks flare brighter. I pulled the nightshirt over my head, yanked my own, clean shirt over the top, and took several steadying breaths. Not looking at Miranda, I escaped to her small bathroom and splashed some water on my face.

  My reflection was not promising. I finger combed my hair, but I couldn’t get the unnatural glaze out of my eyes or the spots of flaming color out of my cheeks. I looked feverish. I felt crazy. Too many things were happening at once. I missed Harper. I needed her frankness and her affectionate physicality.

  I had worried, once, that I might develop feelings for Harper. Now I realized how ridiculous that was. What I felt for Harper was love, but it was pure. Pure-ish, I corrected. I was only human.

  “You like dangerous girls,” she’d told me once, after she caught me nursing a crush on an officer named Natalia. Natalia had short black hair and a jawline that could have made Poseidon weep. She also terrified the Fleet Prep, and was one of the reasons why my combat skills were subpar. She had been our instructor, and I had never really been able to concentrate properly, despite Harper’s well-aimed jabs to my side.

  This was different. This was actually dangerous. I splashed a little more water on my face for good measure. Miranda was a mercenary, and I was far from home. My healing palm itched in remembrance. Getting distracted wasn’t an option.

  Then, of course, there was the fact that Miranda had bigger fish to fry than one little navigator. The only reason she gave me the time of day was because I had a skill she needed.

  I concentrated on that. I was good at what I did. I was the best at what I did. North. South. East. West. I could find the North Star from the bottom of the Mariana Trench, and I’d been born with the ocean�
��s currents running through my veins.

  Only now my compass had found a new pole. I felt it twitch as Miranda moved around the room, and I ducked hurriedly out of the head.

  Miranda’s naked back was to me. I stopped mid-stride and grabbed the wall for support while Miranda bent to pull a clean shirt from the drawers nested underneath the bed. Her muscular shoulders tapered into a narrow waist, and the lithe muscles of her back moved beneath the thin tracery of scars. Her pants rode low, revealing the slight curve of her hip, and the belt dipped under the weight of the thin whip coiled at her side.

  The sight of the weapon clicked my jaw shut. I dropped my eyes and turned to face the kitchen, fear and something else spurring my heartbeat in a brutal race to the finish line.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded mutely as Miranda stalked past me, dressed in the white hemp shirt that was her particular brand of uniform.

  “Where are we going, Captain?”

  She shot me a look that crippled my voice halfway through my last word.

  “Stay close to me, navigator, and you’ll find out.”

  My stomach rumbled in protest as we bypassed the cafeteria, but Miranda’s silence kept my hunger at bay. The ship was oddly deserted. A few cats scattered from our path, but I didn’t see a single human as we wound our way up the catwalks toward the sun and the upper deck. My heart still beat uncomfortably in my throat, and the length of Miranda’s strides wasn’t helping matters. The few inches she had on me in height were clearly all located in her legs.

  My sense of unease rose with every flight of stairs. The lines of Miranda’s back stiffened the higher we climbed, and something about the severity of her expression reminded me of Comita.

  At the hatch to the upper deck, she turned. One hand clenched the handle of the door and the other rubbed the top of the whip handle. I forced myself to meet her eyes.

  A chill washed over me that had nothing to do with desire. Her eyes were blue, cold, and far away. Warmth drained from my face, and my internal compass swiveled, then settled, aligned in trembling certainty with due north as I realized what was about to happen.

  The ship was topside.

  “You can’t,” I said, reaching out to grab her arm. Her eyes locked with mine. They were no longer far away, and the icy cold settled into my bones.

  “Nobody tells me what I can and can’t do. Not on this ship.”

  “She—.” I struggled to find words to describe my protest. Somehow simply stating Annie had shown me kindness didn’t seem like enough. “Do you have proof?”

  Something moved behind her eyes, like a deep swell that hasn’t yet stirred the surface of the water. She didn’t answer.

  “It is as much my fault for going with her as hers. Take me instead. Your crew would like that.” I’d always wondered what drove the heroes in stories to utter such foolish words. It was hasty stupidity, I reflected as they left my lips.

  Miranda’s eyebrow twitched upward, and something very much like the ghost of a smile flitted across her lips.

  “I could take you any way I wanted you.”

  My heart hammered once, then stopped as I struggled to stay standing. My hand was still on her arm, and her skin burned beneath my fingers. I pulled my hand away and clamped both hands safely beneath my armpits.

  “Then do it. Wait until after the trial to punish her.”

  Miranda shook her head.

  “Rose. If I wait, if I show even a moment of weakness, my crew will tear you to pieces. Too much is riding on you. I don’t have time for this bullshit. I said she could train you, not take you underneath the goddamn boat.” Her eyes blazed. “From now on, you train with Orca and nobody else. You talk to Orca. You sit with Orca. You follow her around like a remora, unless you are with me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “What are you?”

  “A remora, Captain.”

  Miranda grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me toward her. I had time to notice a fleck of green in one eye before she broke into my stunned reverie.

  “I don’t want to have to flog any more of my crew, Compass Rose. Start acting like a pretty little sucker fish, or you and your entire Archipelago will sink to the bottom of the fucking ocean.”

  “Yes, Miranda.” Our eyes locked again. Anger warred with desire and won, and I straightened as best I could. “Whatever you say, Miranda.” The venom in my voice surprised me.

  “Watch your tone, navigator.”

  I took a step toward her. She didn’t back down, and I found myself glaring directly into her eyes. Her gaze flickered down to my lips and then back up, and all of the nerves in my body leapt to attention.

  “I think I’ve figured you out, Captain,” I said, my voice catching.

  Her eyelids lowered ever so slightly at my words.

  “You’re not a fish. You’re not a shark. You’re the hole in this goddamn tank.”

  Silence stretched between us in a tight bubble. Miranda’s chest rose and fell twice before she spoke.

  “And you’re about to be a fish out of water.”

  Her fingers tightened on my shirt front, bringing me another millimeter closer to her full lips. I forgot about Annie. I forgot about Miranda’s crew. I forgot about everything except the feeling of the charged air between us.

  “Is it draining, always getting the last word? Or is it just that you’re a drain?” I said as sweetly as I could to keep myself afloat.

  “I should make punning punishable by flogging.” Her voice was as husky as mine. “Then you’d get your wish.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I tilted my head, daring her to break the tension between us.

  “As a rule, I don’t enjoy disciplining my crew, fleeter, but for you I could make an exception.”

  “If you keep calling me fleeter, does that mean I’m exempt from your rules?”

  “My crew knows better than to question their captain.”

  “As your navigator, it’s my job to tell you when I think you’re sailing into troubled waters.”

  “The only thing troubling these waters right now is you.”

  I glanced at her lips, unable to control myself. There was something wrong with me. My muscles refused to obey my orders, and I was acutely aware of my pounding heartbeat. There was no way Miranda could miss it, either, with her hand so close to my chest. There were too many ways to take her words.

  The hatch door opened, forcing us both to jump back. Orca stood in the doorway with a stony expression on her face.

  “She’s ready for you, Captain.”

  “I doubt that,” Miranda said quietly, releasing me. “Remember what I said, Rose. Remora. Orca, don’t let her out of your sight.”

  “Follow me, little jellyfish.” Orca’s tone had a forced lightness to it, and the look she sent my way by all rights should have killed me.

  Miranda set off up the stairs, leaving me out of breath and very, very confused.

  The top deck was thronged with people, most of whom could have used a bath. I was grateful for the stiff breeze blowing in my face and followed Orca with what could only be described as sucker fish-like devotion. My bruises ached at the sight of her fists, but I was also aware that her fists were the only things keeping me safe from the agitated mercenaries.

  Dangerous women were a problem.

  The crowd parted for Miranda, and as we followed the captain Orca grabbed my arm and shoved me in front of her, keeping a grip on my elbow and a snarl on her lips. The crew kept their distance.

  Annie and Kraken waited in a clear space at the center of the deck. The glass tower of the crow’s nest jutted above them, and I wondered if Crow’s Eye was watching from his lofty perch.

  “Anemone Dive,” Miranda said into the sudden silence. “I charge you with neglect of yourself and ship property. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

  Annie shook her head and straightened her wiry shoulders.

  “Then let me say this.” Miran
da turned away from Annie and faced the assembled crew. The wind whipped her words around the deck, slicing into the listeners. Her face was as hard as an October sky.

  Orca shoved me toward her, and I stumbled into the cleared space to a muted hiss of disapproval. Miranda pointed at me and addressed the crowd.

  “This is a tool. Like many of our tools, she comes from the Archipelago. There is no difference between her and the seeds we grow, trade fairly for, or the engines we raid, which is a fairer trade still.” The crew laughed appreciatively. “So much of our ship comes from fleet vessels. Do you want to stab a few holes in our hydroponics? Do you want to rip open the bulkheads and go back to pumping by hand, up to your throats in water in the bilges?”

  Silence met her words.

  “This is my tool.” She grabbed my half-healed hand and held it in the air. “With her help, I will fulfill my promises to you, and if any harm befalls her, I will flog each and every one of you until I find the source of the mutiny.” She stared around at the rows of tattooed mercenaries with a grim light in her eyes. “Are there any objections?”

  Nobody spoke.

  “Kraken.”

  Kraken nodded at the command and seized Annie by the arms, his huge bulk acting as a whipping post. Her ankles were bound, and I could not see her face, only her back, her shoulders taut with anticipatory pain.

  Miranda uncoiled the whip at her belt and raised her arm.

  “Wait.”

  I held out a hand to stop the fall of the whip. The tip lashed out and caught me across the stomach, doubling me over in a red haze of pain.

  “Learn your place, Compass,” Miranda said in a cruelly careless voice.

  I looked up at her through a veil of tears and watched her arm fall once, twice, and three times across Annie’s back, blood welling in the bright red stripes the blows left behind.

  “You fucking idiot,” Orca hissed in my ear. “Annie was the one trying to kill you. She confessed it last night.”