Seafire

by Natalie C. Parker

  “I’ll take that,” Caledonia answered with a matching grin.

  The sky was just beginning to show signs of dawn when they rounded the peninsula and entered the bay. Before them, the Electra was nestled in the center of the cove, her nose pointed toward them. The orange numbers of its countdown floated in the air, ticking ever closer to zero. That blue-white fire shattered repeatedly along the waterline, making the ship appear to hover just above the ocean.

  “Swing starboard!” Caledonia called to Nettle, who only barely needed the command.

  The ship swung in a sharp arc to starboard, bringing the Electra’s port side into full view. According to Oran, the best place to strike would be the forequarter where they were most likely to take out the engines. But since Ares was also more likely to be down in the engine room, he’d suggested a hit dead center.

  Nettle lined them up, and the ship accelerated.

  Pisces raised a hand.

  Amina and Hime adjusted their grip.

  A wall of Bullets appeared above the Electra’s railing. They raised guns and shields and opened fire. The crew of the Mors Navis held their fire even as their own hull echoed with rain. Any stray shot from them might be the one that took Donnally or Ares. So they pressed low to the deck, heads ducked behind battered shields, and they waited.

  After what felt like an eternity, Pisces’s hand came down and Amina’s gun exploded. The electro-mag was heavier than a bullet and so it was slower and easier to track. It flew through the air, directly toward its intended target, landing with a loud pop.

  And nothing happened.

  The distance between the Mors Navis and the Electra was fading fast. In another second, the impact would leave every member of her crew electrocuted.

  “Amina!” she shouted, knowing there was nothing to be done.

  Just as she was about to give the order to abandon ship, the Electra’s hull flashed. A web of purple light fractured in every direction, snapping through the air. And then it went out. The hull was dead.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Caledonia raked her gaze across the enemy ship. The flare of energy had pushed every Bullet away from the rail. The air smelled like smoke, and the way was clear.

  “Brace!” Redtooth cried.

  The final distance between the two ships vanished. The Mors Navis drove into the Electra’s side with a vicious metallic shriek, her nose puncturing the ship by several feet. The Electra began to roll away, dragging the Mors Navis with it. With a shock, Caledonia realized the ships were locked together, and they were still rolling. They’d rammed with too much force. Both ships would capsize, and all would be lost.

  The ships groaned, listing hard. Water sloshed over the Electra’s rail, and the Mors Navis shuddered against the strain. Bullets slipped down their deck, gripping at the rail or tumbling into the cold waters just beneath. Caledonia could feel the tension in her own deck as every rivet resisted the pull of the Electra.

  Then, just when it seemed the Electra’s momentum would doom them all, the ships stopped rolling. The orange numbers of the countdown flickered and went out. They froze for the barest second, then rolled upright once more.

  Caledonia stood tall. Alert and ready. They were wedged into the dead center of the Electra, her side crumpled around the sharp nose of the Mors Navis. Before her, the deck was littered with Bullets struggling to regain their feet, the railing peppered with the bodies of a few who’d failed to step back while the electro-mag did its work. She tried not to worry that they were dead. That any one of them could be Donnally or Ares.

  “Latch on!” Caledonia cried, instructing the crew to deploy the grapples and hooks that would keep them connected to the Electra. “Haul over!”

  Now the fight began. Her girls leapt across the railings, their mouths open with cries and roars and high-pitched screams, their swords and guns high, their sisters at their sides. Before them, Bullets quickly came to their fighting minds and greeted them violently on the deck.

  The air was a constant scream punctuated only by occasional gunfire. With Pisces at her side, Caledonia joined the fight, her pistol in one hand, long knife in the other. Every time she met a Bullet, she sought a sigil on his face, pulling her punches just long enough to do it. Her girls did the same—curtailing their blows until they knew their opponent was neither Donnally nor Ares, leaving themselves vulnerable. It was a terrible way to fight. A long way to fight. They had no sharpshooters to assist them, no confidence that any kill was a good one, only their quick minds and strong fists to rely on.

  And Oran’s information.

  The fight spread across the Electra’s main deck, putting too much distance between her girls. Every battle-honed instinct Caledonia possessed told her this was a mistake. She needed to pull them together, drive forward as a unit, and give the Knots room to fire. But it wasn’t enough to win this fight; they had to win it the right way.

  With a roar, Caledonia dove forward, knocking a Bullet’s shotgun away with her blade. Before he could recover, she drove the flat of her palm up into the underside of his chin. He was pale enough to be Donnally, but in that moment, she registered that his hair was blond. That was enough for her. She pulled back and lunged with her sword, burying her blade in his chest.

  As frustration wormed toward desperation, Caledonia reminded herself that they never expected to find Ares in this first volley, and Donnally wouldn’t be in the thick of things. The only way to give her girls the ability to fight without caution was to find the boys and get them out of the fray by whatever means necessary.

  Pulling in close to Pisces and Hime, she took a single precious moment to study the evolving field. The fight was concentrated here, in the center of the main deck. The Bullet force was furious and strong, but thin thanks to Amina’s electro-mag. The railing was still littered with those too near the blast when it went off, and the remaining force was equally matched by her own. If her girls felt free to fire at will, this battle would be that much closer to being over. As it was, they traded blows for blood, relying on their fists and swords more than guns.

  “Any sign?” Pisces shouted.

  “None yet!”

  The cold air was bright with the scents of blood and smoke. Caledonia felt the tug of guilt in her throat, the desire to tell her girls to use every weapon available to them. But then a single Bullet caught her eye, standing far up the forequarter with his eyes trained on the battle below. It only took a second to realize it was the Ballistic. His dark hair wasn’t long enough to curl, but it was black as the night sky, the skin beneath it pale.

  Donnally.

  He was changed from the small boy she’d known on the Ghost. He was tall, with hollow cheeks and broad shoulders like their father’s had been, but it was him.

  It was him.

  Caledonia no longer felt the cold of the northern sky. She moved through the fight like a spreading fire, consuming all she touched. Her hand and blade were slicked with blood, and pain sang distantly in her head, but she pressed on, desperate and determined to reach Donnally before anyone else did.

  Finally, she was through the throng. There was nothing but open space between her and the ramp leading up to the bridge. The Ballistic’s attention wasn’t on her. His face was turned away, held in profile so she could just see the tip of his nose and feel a skip in her lungs. She had the element of surprise. She could knock him out before he even knew she was there, secure him before he had a chance to resist. She was ready to run. Then something crashed into her from behind as a gun fired past her ear, and she was on her knees, her gun sliding across the deck.

  She rolled, lashing out with the butt of her long knife, only to find that the thing that had crashed into her was Amina, pushing her out of harm’s way. The girl never stopped moving. She rolled smoothly to her feet, braids twisting around her body like the lashes of a whip, and drove her own sword into the belly of a ch
arging Bullet. He stopped, eyes wide and angry, then Amina braced her foot on his thigh and shoved him to the ground, blood falling from her blade in a steady stream.

  Caledonia allowed herself one small breath of relief before she turned around, again searching for the Ballistic. She found him in an instant, his attention and his gun fixed on Amina.

  Dread burned instant and hot in Caledonia’s gut as she realized she would be too late to push Amina out of the way.

  She flew to her feet.

  The gun cracked.

  But it wasn’t Amina who hit the ground. It was Redtooth. She appeared just in time to make a shield of her body. Her chest jerked as the bullet pierced her back. Her hands brushed Amina’s shoulders as though she had something to say. There was a second where all was still but for the stray locks of blonde hair, curling in the air like autumn leaves. Then red bloomed between her shoulder blades and her body hit the deck at Amina’s feet.

  And that was when Caledonia heard Amina’s roar. The girl raised her gun, and without a second thought, without waiting to look for a sigil, she fired at the Ballistic.

  Caledonia screamed. Twisted in time to see the Ballistic’s hand clutch his chest in surprise. A small trail of blood slid down his chin, and he toppled over the rail of the bridge. Lifeless.

  Her ears filled with a cottony buzz. Behind it, the distant sound of her girls holding their ground. She stood trapped between the body of one of her sisters and that of her brother. Numb.

  Amina was screaming. She was standing over Redtooth’s body. She was fighting anyone who came near. Amina was screaming, and the sound of it was the only thing strong enough to penetrate the fog around Caledonia’s mind.

  Trusting Amina’s sword, she crouched at Redtooth’s side. The girl’s blue eyes were open, her expression locked in one of love. For Amina. For the crew she’d served so well.

  With a shaking hand, Caledonia closed Redtooth’s eyes.

  “Amina!” she shouted as she pulled Redtooth away from the fray.

  Amina moved instinctively. Guarding her captain and her fallen sister as they moved to the wall of the command tower. Tears covered Caledonia’s cheeks, and she didn’t fight them as she tucked Redtooth against the wall and turned her steps toward her brother.

  Now the world narrowed to the gleam of blood on his sky-dark hair. It was all Caledonia could see as she moved to his side.

  “Donnally?” she whispered, kneeling in the blood pooling beside him.

  Why hadn’t she told them? Why hadn’t she immediately shared that he was the Ballistic of this vessel? Why had she assumed she could get to him first? Her fault. Once again her foolishness had cost him everything.

  “Cala?” Pisces’s voice was strong in her ear. “Cala, be steely.”

  “It’s him, Pi.” There were tears in her eyes, in her throat, and on her face. “Oh, spirits, it’s him.”

  Gently, Pisces gripped the man’s head and lifted it from the deck. His chin was covered in a thin stubble and the lines around his eyes suggested he’d seen more years than Caledonia. Beyond that, his temple bore no tattoo.

  “It’s not,” Pisces confirmed.

  Caledonia breathed the battle back into her lungs in one long gulp. Blood. Gunpowder. Salt. The world came back in a rush.

  Pisces gave her shoulder a firm squeeze. “On your feet, Captain.”

  It wasn’t him. It should have been, but it wasn’t. Any number of things could have happened to remove him from command. Caledonia tried not to dwell on them. She didn’t have time to dwell. Only to find him. Answers would come later.

  The clip was thin now, and without their Ballistic at the helm, their confidence visibly waned.

  And then there was Redtooth. Crumpled against the command tower wall. Her blonde braids staining red all the way to her scalp. There was such a wave of sadness waiting there. One that was sure to pull them all under if they let it. But right now, the sight of her body led to a terrible keening screech. It built slowly, traveling from one girl to the next until no other sound might be heard.

  A few of the Bullets continued to fight, their minds dedicated to the task no matter the circumstances, but more faltered in the face of that scream. Their blades hesitated, and the girls took every bit of that advantage.

  Caledonia saw Nettle darting between Bullets to slash their calves from behind; she saw Tin and her sisters weaving their blades into deadly webs; she saw Hime wielding her dual swords with furious grace. She saw the battle bending toward them, and before long, the day would be theirs.

  Caledonia climbed to the bridge where the Ballistic had stood. She looked over the waning battlefield and shouted, “Throw down your weapons, and we’ll let you live!”

  The transition took a few minutes, but soon the remaining Bullets stood ringed by her crew. She spied the site where Redtooth had fallen and clenched her jaw; her blood was a bright flag against the rusted metal deck.

  “If they don’t have a sigil,” Caledonia said, voice girded with steel, “kill them.”

  “Bind them!” Pisces shouted, breaking the moment in two.

  Caledonia climbed down from the bridge, fury fresh on her face. But Pisces met her with an unbending stare.

  “Why are you challenging me?” Caledonia gestured to the sea of Bullet faces before them. “These aren’t our brothers.”

  Pisces stepped forward and pressed her shoulder to Caledonia’s chest so she could speak in her ear. “If we’re going to remind them who they were, we can’t forget who we are.”

  Caledonia wanted blood. Revenge for Redtooth’s death. Her body trembled with it. She imagined the deck of the Electra covered in the bodies of spent Bullets, the surface bright with the blood of all the boys who were not her brother. She imagined it, felt that dark kernel deadening her heart, and she shivered. “Bind them!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Not a single Bullet on this deck bore the sigils of Caledonia’s family or of Pisces’s.

  Fear was starting to sing from a knot in Caledonia’s throat. They had trusted the word of a Bullet, attacked a mighty ship, and lost several of their own, and all for what?

  “Cala.” Pisces gave her hand a tug. “Belowdecks. C’mon.”

  While Amina and her Knots remained topside with their barrels trained on their prisoners, the rest of the crew was taking care of the wounded and ensuring the Mors Navis was undamaged and ready to sail.

  Caledonia opened her mouth to shout for Redtooth and stopped abruptly. She cleared her throat. “Nettle!”

  The small girl appeared at her side. Blood stained her front and she’d taken a blow to the cheek, but she seemed otherwise unscathed. “Captain?”

  “I need you to work with Tin, organize a retrieval party. Anyone who will recognize value in ship parts when they see it. They should come through after Pisces and I do our sweep.”

  “On it.” Nettle flashed a brief smile, and then she was gone.

  “Let’s go.”

  Caledonia moved ahead of Pisces as they entered the first level. The hallways were wider than those of the Mors Navis, though the piping was just as low. They cleared room after room, moving carefully and quietly through the unfamiliar corridors.

  When they were satisfied that the first level was clear, they traveled down the ladder to level two. Immediately, they heard voices. Hushed and tense.

  Caledonia met Pisces’s eyes, and the two girls moved silently toward the voices. It was a small room in the center of the ship. If Caledonia had to guess, she’d say they were directly below the bridge.

  Pisces held up two fingers. Caledonia nodded in agreement. There were only two of them in there. Caledonia tried not to hope that they would be their brothers. But it was a losing battle. Even as she listened, she searched for some hint of Donnally in those tones. Some promise of Ares.

  The girls raised their guns. Pisces
was around the corner first, with Caledonia shortly behind.

  “Hands up!” Caledonia shouted.

  Tools clattered to the ground. The two Bullets were too surprised to do anything other than put their hands up and let Pisces bind them. Caledonia waited with her gun poised and her breath stuck in her chest.

  But Pisces shook her head, the hope in her eyes withering. It wasn’t them.

  They took their new prisoners topside before resuming their search, but the rest of level two was just as empty as level one. Every corridor, every bunk carried only the memory of Bullets.

  Caledonia and Pisces moved faster and faster toward level three and the engine room. They didn’t say it out loud, but both were chased by a clawing panic that Oran’s information was too old and their brothers were no longer here. And if they’d done all of this for nothing, if Redtooth had given her life for nothing, then what?

  The door to the engine room was pulled shut. Caledonia held her pistol ready while Pisces gave it a shove, entering the room faster than she should have.

  A hand reached out. Pisces’s wrist was snatched, and before she could resist, she was dragged bodily into the room. Her gun clattered to the floor, but she did not scream.

  Caledonia followed, her own gun trained on the boy who now held Pisces against him, her head cinched between his strong arms, his hands poised to snap her neck.

  He was tall. His skin a warm, sunny brown. His eyes beaded with gold and shadow. His black hair cropped short. And there, on his temple, tucked close to his hairline, the sigil.

  “Ares,” Caledonia said, voice destabilized by relief. “Ares, it’s us!”

  He didn’t snap Pisces’s neck. But he didn’t release her either. His eyes narrowed, and he didn’t speak.

  Pisces didn’t struggle. Her eyes grew wide, and her hands landed softly against Ares’s arm.

  Caledonia’s heart was suddenly wild in her chest. If Ares was here, then surely Donnally was, too. They simply hadn’t found him yet. The weight of all her hopes was crushing, but she forced herself to stay grounded in this moment. This was not a time to be careless with her feelings.