by Anna Burke
Nothing wakes you up like a sense of purpose. I forgot about my tea and brought the trawler to life, reeling in the nets and setting my sights on the swarm ahead.
Dark shapes flared occasionally in bursts of brilliant luminescence, illuminating the vast field of jellyfish in a cascade of blues, purples, and pinks. The lights from the trawler would pass unnoticed by any observer, hidden in the larger light show, and the sonar pinged back at me in irritation. Our pings could not penetrate the swarm.
Not that it mattered. I knew where we were headed, and after an hour or two the jellies began to dwindle and I turned my attention back to the screen.
There. About a mile or two northeast was a ship, her readings unmistakable to my desperate eyes. We had found Man o’ War. My elation dwindled as I took in the rest of the scene.
She was not alone.
“Neptune’s balls,” I swore, sounding disturbingly like Finn. Three vessels surrounded her, in a formation that did not look entirely friendly.
By the time I roused the rest of the crew, the swarm had brought us closer, and the situation was unpleasantly clear. Three large pirate raiders had Man o’ War effectively cut off from any chance of escape— and any chance we might have of contacting her.
“That doesn’t look like a parley,” I said, resisting the urge to turn the trawler around and return to safer waters.
“It most certainly does not.” Miranda consulted the sonar. “What did Orca get herself into?”
“Whatever it is, you’re better off out of it,” said Kraken.
“Rose, can you get us there?” Miranda asked, ignoring Kraken.
“To the ship?” My voice squeaked a little at the prospect. I eyed the sonar with apprehension. In theory, I could. If we waited for the swarm to bring us close enough, we might be able get a message to Man o’ War, drifting unnoticed between the ships. They would be too busy recalculating their depth to escape the swarm.
It might work, if luck sided with us and the night shift was sleepy.
“What if it is a trap?” Jeanine asked.
“Of course it’s a trap.” Miranda loosened her knife in its sheath. “That doesn’t change anything. I should have known Ching would pull something like this. Of all the goddamn fish in the sea . . .” she trailed off, staring out at the water. Jellyfish pulsed around us, illuminating the worried faces crammed into the helm.
“Ching Shih?” I asked, hoping I had misheard.
“That’s her ship.” Miranda pointed to one of the blobs on the sonar. “I never should have let Mercy go. Those sons of bitches must have reported directly to her.”
“We could hardly have sunk them with a trawler,” Finn said.
“You’d be surprised what you can do with the element of surprise.” Miranda turned her attention back to me. “So, Rose. Can you get us in?”
“I can get us close,” I said, “but we will still need someone on Man o’ War to open the docking bay.”
“Don’t worry about that. Finn has the codes.”
“Then yes, I can get us to the ship.” I didn’t bother laying out the risks. They were obvious to anyone with eyes.
The swarm moved inexorably closer, until we could see the lights of Man o’ War through the pulsing bodies. The dark shapes of the raiders lurked amid the jellyfish, circling like sharks. Three raiders seemed excessive, now that I thought about it. Two would be sufficient to subdue a mercenary ship under ordinary conditions. I thought about Orca’s garbled message a few days earlier, urging us to stay away a little while longer. Something wasn’t right.
“Finn. Codes. Now.”
Finn fiddled with an oddly shaped handheld device, muttering to himself as he punched numbers into the system. A few meters away, the door began to open.
“That’s enough! Any wider and the lights will come on.”
Miranda grabbed the wheel and took the trawler into a higher gear, aiming for the small gap ahead. I clutched the seat of my chair and hoped she had judged the distance accurately. There was no room for error.
We shot into the first dock, nearly colliding with the wall as Miranda threw the trawler into reverse and then into a sputtering neutral while we waited for the sea door to close.
“Rose, I want you to stay with the trawler,” she said, checking her weapons. “Until I know what’s going on out there, you’re safer here.”
I bristled.
“I can take care of myself, Captain,” I said.
“You’re staying.”
I opened my mouth to protest just as the door to the docking bay opened, releasing us into the hold in a wet rush. The words died in my throat.
Standing on the pier, surrounded by heavily armed sailors, was Orca. Her back was straight, and her eyes were full of suppressed rage. As the trawler slid into the dock, she dropped slowly to her knees, yielding to the pressure of the sword point resting in the small of her back.
Behind her was a woman I had never seen before, and never wanted to see again. Her black hair framed a plain face lined with the first hints of age, but there was nothing plain about the way she carried her short sword, or about the layer of command she wore wrapped around herself like a cloak.
“On second thought,” Miranda said, her eyes glued to the pier, “you better come with me after all.”
There was no graceful way to exit the trawler, but Miranda did her best, leaping down to the dock with a cat’s thoughtless agility. The rest of us followed, Kraken’s fists clenched and my heart pressing up against my teeth. The sailors on the dock were not familiar to me, and they wore dark shirts slashed with red over dark pants, instead of the astounding array of patched trousers I had gotten used to seeing on Man o’ War. They watched us disembark with hungry eyes.
“Miranda.” The woman’s voice was calm and measured, a direct contrast to Orca’s silent outrage.
“Ching,” Miranda said. “What are you doing with my first mate?”
“That depends. What are you doing in the Gulf?”
“Looking for opportunities, as usual. Release her, and we’ll talk.” Miranda stepped away from us, blocking Ching Shih from my view.
“Very well.” I heard the sound of a sword entering a sheath, and then Orca was at my side, eyes blazing.
“I told you to stay away,” she hissed at me. “What the hell kind of navigator are you?”
“The kind that follows orders from the captain, not the first mate. What happened?”
“What does it look like? We were overrun.” She glared at the pirates surrounding us. “Your brilliant idea didn’t work. They were on to us the minute—”
Kraken held up a giant hand to silence us.
“Can I offer you a drink, or is this still my ship?” Miranda asked Ching.
“Don’t insult me, Mere. I would never take back a gift. Consider this a precaution, nothing more.”
A gift? I glanced at Orca. Her face was twisted with hatred, an expression that, for once, was not directed at me.
“Gift my ass,” she said under her breath. “Everyone knows Miranda took it from you, you slippery bitch of an eel.”
“Please,” Miranda said, extending her arm in a gesture of mock courtesy. “This way. Will you be bringing your army, or are we going to be civilized?”
“Stand down,” Ching said to the sailors around us. They moved a fraction of an inch away. “And will you be bringing your pets?” Ching cast her gaze in our direction, her eyes lingering on mine for a split second.
“Jeanine, Rose, Finn, you’re dismissed,” Miranda said.
I made to follow, but Ching’s voice reached around me like a whiplash.
“Not you, sailor.”
I stopped. I don’t know what made me so sure she was talking about me, only that my legs obeyed before my mind caught up.
Miranda’s eyes closed briefly at Ching’s words, but her voice held steady as she called me back.
“Well then,” she said, meeting my eyes as she addressed Ching. “Let’s get this over with.”
• • •
Miranda’s council room looked different with Ching in it. Two pirates came with her, a woman whose spine looked as if it had been surgically replaced with an iron rod, and a slender man with eyes that dared onlookers to underestimate him.
“It’s a little early for rum, even for me,” Miranda said, taking a seat.
Orca sat at her right, and I sat next to Orca. Kraken remained standing behind us.
“Can I offer you some tea?”
“Rum is fine.” Ching leaned back in her chair. “But if you want tea, go right ahead.”
Miranda frowned, then nodded at a sailor at the door, who went to fetch the beverages.
“I forgot. You must have been up for a while, what with commandeering my ship and all.”
“It did make me a touch thirsty,” Ching said. Her tone was dead-pan, but I had the distinct impression she was enjoying herself.
“I trust nobody died?” Miranda asked.
“Nobody you’ll miss. How’s Seamus?”
“Fat.”
“So are his brothers.”
Are they seriously talking about cats? I thought. I desperately wanted to ask Orca and Kraken what was going on, but that was impossible with Miranda and Ching sitting so close to us.
“How’s Janelle?” Miranda’s voice was guarded.
“Good. Pregnant, if you can believe it. The whole fleet is terrified of her.”
“She’s a good first mate,” Miranda said.
“Almost the best I’ve ever had.”
The meaning in Ching’s words hung heavily over the table. I let out a small sigh of relief when the sailor returned, bearing a kettle, mugs, and a large flask.
“Tea?” Ching offered, taking control of the teapot so smoothly it took me a moment to realize it was a power play.
Miranda shrugged.
Ching poured the tea into cups, her hands neat and blunt. Her movements were efficient, calculated, as if waste of any sort repulsed her. I remembered, with a cold feeling in my gut, that Kraken had urged Miranda to avoid Ching. Of course, he had also urged her to avoid me, and she hadn’t exactly listened to his advice then, either.
Ching filled her own mug with rum.
“You sure you don’t want any?” she asked Miranda.
Miranda’s jaw twitched.
“No.”
“No you’re not sure, or no you don’t want any?”
“No, I don’t want any rum,” Miranda said. “Tea is fine.”
It was the first time I had ever heard her turn down a drink.
“Suit yourself.”
Orca shifted beside me. I shared her growing discomfort.
“So,” Ching said, taking us in with a sweep of her eyes. “Your first mate comes to my territory looking to strike a deal without her captain. I might buy that from someone else, but not from you, Mere. What are you doing in the Gulf?”
“Last I checked, Ching, I didn’t sail under you anymore. I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“Do you really want to talk about debts?” Ching raised one eyebrow very slightly, her voice still calm. “You owe me a great deal, Miranda.”
“And when the time comes, I’ll pay it.” Miranda’s face could have chipped steel. “But we both know you’re not ready to collect.”
“Your first mate says you have information to trade, in exchange for access to the mines,” Ching said.
“Hardly grounds for taking my ship,” said Miranda.
“You didn’t answer my summons earlier this year, so I didn’t know where your loyalties lay. I could have used your help, Miranda. We could have taken the mines with less bloodshed, instead of this mess. There are still sailors who would have rallied under Miranda Stillwater.”
“Not if I sailed with you.”
“Don’t be so sure. The Archipelago is weak. The tyranny they’ve imposed on the rest of us ends now, if we play our cards right, which is why I have to question why you’ve chosen to appear at the eleventh hour with a Polarian Fleet navigator at your side.”
I stiffened. Ching didn’t bother to look at me again; her eyes were fixed intently on Miranda.
“You know my feelings about the Archipelago, Ching.”
“Better than you, I think. Who is she, and what is she doing here?”
“She’s my navigator.”
“I can see that. Is she the source of your information?”
“Yes. If you know me as well as you claim, then you know I have a soft spot for fleet castoffs. Rose is mine. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. You still didn’t answer my question. Why come to me now?” Ching took a measured sip of her rum.
“I was waiting to see how things panned out,” Miranda said. “I had another contract.”
“You’re not a patient woman, Miranda. You waited for a reason, and I am not sure I like what I’ve been hearing from your crew.”
“And I’m not sure I like that you’ve been talking to my crew, Ching. You come onto my ship, threaten my first mate, question my sailors, and then expect to sit down to parley?” Miranda’s knuckles were white against her tea cup.
“We’re at war, Miranda. I have to take extra precautions.”
“War? Last I checked, you just had a few mines. You’ve got a long way to go before you can call this a war.”
“Do I?” Ching asked, her voice mild. “All I have to do is cut the Archipelago off from the mines long enough to cripple them. Who is to say what will happen then? It is past time the ocean’s wealth was redistributed. We were in agreement about that once. Who knows? You might get your mutiny after all, Stillwater.”
I choked on my tea. Orca gave me a warning kick beneath the table, and I swallowed, trying to keep my composure.
“I’ve lost my taste for mutiny, Ching. Do I have a choice here?”
“Everyone has a choice. Work with me, and I can promise you plenty of trade in the future. Side with the Archipelago, and . . .” Ching trailed off with a shrug, the threat unspoken.
“I’m done with sides. You know that.”
Ching let out a snort of derisive laughter.
“You can’t be neutral. Not here. Make up your mind, Miranda, or I’ll extract the coordinates and more from your little navigator, one way or another.”
That didn’t sound promising.
“Touch her and die.” Miranda’s lip curled in a snarl.
Orca swore almost inaudibly under her breath as Ching smiled, and I met the pirate captain’s eyes with as much courage as I could muster.
“So it’s like that, then. I thought as much. You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, Mere. What will it be, cooperation or coercion?”
“Don’t do it,” Orca whispered, whether to Ching, or Miranda, or me, I couldn’t be sure.
“I sent my first mate to you under the flag of parley, and you boarded my ship. I can’t forgive that. Call off your raiders, get your crew off my decks, and then we’ll talk.”
“You’re not in a position to set terms.” Ching took another sip of rum, her dark eyes amused.
“You want my loyalty? Then get the hell off of my ship.” Miranda slammed her fist on the table.
“I don’t want your loyalty, Miranda Stillwater. It is too easily lost.” Ching set her cup down with a decisive click.
Silence fell over the table. I risked a glance at Orca. Her face looked resigned, and when she met my eye a bone-deep chill passed over me. I was a navigator, and I knew when there was only one possible course.
Miranda did not look at any of us as she made her decision. She bit off her words, shaping each one with a vengeance.
“Then you have my cooperation.”
“Good. Hand over the navigator, or I’ll sink this ship and everyone on it.”
My tea spilled across the table. Orca reached for her knife. Kraken rumbled deep in his chest, and Miranda stood, drawing her sword.
“Anyone ever tell you that you need to learn how to ask ni
cely?” Miranda said, pointing the tip at Ching.
“Wait,” I said.
The pressure of Orca’s hand on my thigh forced me back into my seat, and I realized with a hiccup of alarm that everyone was looking at me. I could feel Miranda silently urging me to shut up, but this was my ship, too— and my fight just as much as, if not more than, hers.
“Wait,” I said again, hoping the rest of the words would fall into place.
“I’m waiting.” Ching turned her attention to me, her eyes bright with curiosity.
“What do you want from me?” I asked her.
“Rose,” Miranda said, the warning in her voice clear.
I ignored her. Ching was not like the bullies I’d grown up with; she was something far more dangerous. She would have me one way or another, and she had our ship surrounded. Miranda, for all her bravado, was heading in the wrong direction, and as her navigator I could not let her run us all aground.
“Proof that you are not a spy would be a good place to start.”
“That’s impossible,” I said. “A good spy would have proof; I’m just a sailor, and all I can offer you is my word. Plus,” I added, feeling a little shaky, “I’m pretty sure I would tell you whatever I thought you wanted to hear if you interrogated me.”
“I am pretty sure you would too,” Ching said, far too matter-of-factly for my liking. “But it could still be interesting.”
“Why would the Archipelago work with Miranda Stillwater?” I asked. “I signed on with her because I wanted to get away from Polaris, not help them.”
“Signed on?” Ching leaned forward.
I had her full attention now, and I held out my right hand with the mark sliced into it.
“A recent recruit,” she pointed out. “That’s quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Not really.” I shrugged. “Archipelago hasn’t done much to help my family or me. My dad’s a drifter. He told me where to find Miranda. He said she might give me a better deal if I had something to trade. I can’t speak for my captain, but she didn’t have my information before. Maybe she was waiting to contact you until she had something worthwhile.”