Sea Wolf (A Compass Rose Novel, 2)

by Anna Burke

  “You look so much like your mother,” he said. His arms hung limply at his sides.

  “Thank the seas for that,” was all I could manage before turning and walking out of the room. I would not give him the privilege of seeing me cry.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Somehow, we made it back to our room. Miranda led the way, and I was dimly impressed, as I could tell by the clammy feel of her skin that withdrawal still had her in its grip. I was in no mood to navigate. Some things were just too big to process.

  Kole.

  Lia.

  I visualized the chest I’d wanted to put Harper’s identity in and added my own burdens, then mentally dropped it overboard. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t do this. Not if we were going to survive.

  “We need a plan,” I said, standing outside the closed plex door.

  “You need a minute to breathe.”

  “We don’t have a minute.”

  She leaned against the wall, then, noting the moss, straightened. Haggard wasn’t a word I’d ever thought could be accurately applied to Miranda Stillwater, but then again, I’d just learned I had a half sister whose mother had tried to drown her before killing herself, as well as a spy for a father who was also, wait for it, not fucking dead.

  “We need to convince them we’re on their side, and we need to find out everything we possibly can.”

  “No. It’s over, Rose. All we can do is try to survive right now.”

  “You’re not the captain.”

  Her shocked expression, under different circumstances, might have been gratifying. “Okay, Captain. What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  But that wasn’t true. One course did remain.

  ••••

  Orca broke the uneasy silence. “Now what?”

  I glanced at Miranda. Her eyes remained on Lia, who slumped against the far wall, where she’d apparently been for some time. I’d expected her to be anywhere but here. Her presence suggested she’d been ordered to keep a watch on us by an authority she could not flout. What did it say that they thought we posed so little threat a teenager could guard us?

  A teenager who was my sister.

  No. I would break down over everything later. Right now, Lia’s presence was an unexpected gift. If I could orchestrate a performance that looked genuine, she might pass it along.

  “We don’t really have much choice,” I said. “Ching was working for them all along.”

  “Wait, what?” said Orca.

  Kraken didn’t look surprised, but he did look annoyed; perhaps his pride was injured. As a spy, knowing things like this was his job.

  A spy. Like my father.

  No.

  “Then we need to warn my mo—”

  “How?” Miranda said, cutting Harper off before she gave herself away in front of Lia. “We have no ship, no plan, and no navy.”

  “They’ll wipe out the Archipelago.” Harper half rose in her anger. An algae cake oozed through her clenched fist and dripped down the back of her hand.

  “Just like the Archipelago wiped out Ching’s fleet?” said Orca. Harper stared at her as if she’d received a knife to her gut. Orca wavered beneath the onslaught of those eyes but held her ground. “Objectively, they should be aware of the risks of retaliation—”

  “Retaliation from pirates, not this barnacle-fucking biohazard of an armada.” Harper’s voice rose with each word. By the last, she was shouting, and Lia raised her head from her hands to blink in confusion. She was right to be concerned. Harper liked to hit things when she got angry.

  “Fine. How, exactly, do you plan on getting out of here?” Orca’s temper flared to match. My body had absorbed enough of her punches to testify she, too, liked hitting.

  “I don’t know, yet, but at least I’m willing to try,” said Harper.

  “What do you think we’ve been doing? Everything we’ve tried has backfired. Aren’t you tired?”

  “No! And you—”

  “Harper,” I broke in.

  She rounded on me. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

  “Miranda’s right. We’re done. There’s nothing we can do.”

  Several noises escaped her throat. None were words, but all sprang from fury. She finally managed to say, “My mother.”

  Who could be anyone, I reminded myself as I hid a wince. Her words had not been incriminating.

  “Mine, too.”

  Her eyes searched mine. “Do you really hate us that much?”

  “What? No—”

  “I thought you left because of her.” She jabbed a thumb at Miranda. “But honestly, Rose, I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe this is what you wanted all along. Payback.”

  “How could you think that?”

  “How could I not?”

  “Because you know me!”

  “Do I?”

  “Harper—”

  “You’re the captain, and even if you weren’t, it’s clear where the rest of you stand. But I’m leaving.”

  “No, you’re not. I will order Kraken to tie you down if you try. They’ll hurt you. And then you won’t save anyone. It’s over.”

  My soul crumbled as she stormed to her sleeping pod and closed herself inside. Orca tried to follow, but a blistering barrage of curses erupted from the pod. Kraken didn’t offer any input. He studied me from beneath his tattooed brows.

  “Lia,” I said, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible so I could talk with Harper. “Can you take Finn back to our ship? I need all our communication records. As soon as possible.”

  She stood, as eager for an excuse to leave as I’d hoped she’d be, but hesitated as she stared at me. Whatever she wanted to say, however, she thought better of it, and exited.

  Later. Later I’d think about what all this meant, and how I was supposed to live with it.

  I ran to Harper’s pod as soon as the plex door shut on Lia. “Harp, I need to talk to you.”

  Silence.

  “Harper.”

  More silence.

  “Open the damn pod.”

  The pod opened. I crouched to speak to her and reeled as her fist collided with my nose. Orca caught me as I stumbled back, and she positioned herself between me and a whirlwind of black curls and knuckles. Harper didn’t scream as she fought. Each blow carried her characteristic focus, but there was murder in her eyes. Orca blocked her as best she could. I scuttled backward.

  “Enough.” Giant arms closed around Harper and lifted her in the air. She flailed, feet pounding on Kraken’s thighs, but the tentacles inked on his skin might have been real tentacles for all they loosened. I observed through streaming eyes as she slowly calmed, though that could have been a result of the forearm cutting off her air. Blood trickled into my mouth. Miranda’s hand touched my shoulder.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” My voice sounded nasally and clogged. “Is it broken?”

  “It doesn’t look like it.”

  She helped me up. I approached Harper warily. Kraken held her arms, but she still had legs and teeth.

  “Listen to me,” I said. “We have to act like we’ve given up. They won’t let us out of here any other way.”

  “Wait, what?” said Orca.

  Kraken answered for me. “Think, Harper. Lia was in the room. We can’t help anyone if we’re prisoners. Or dead. They’re right about one thing: the only way to survive is to adapt. We become what we need to be, which, right now, is whatever they want us to be.”

  Rage bled slowly out of Harper’s eyes. My nose, however, showed no signs of clotting. Each word grated on the cartilage, but I had to speak. “Trust me.”

  “You don’t think we deserve to be wiped out?” Seas, but she sounded like she’d actually believed this was a possibility.

  “Neptune, no.” I wiped a fresh gout of blood onto my sleeve and swallowed more of the coppery stuff. “But I couldn’t say that in front of Lia.”

  “Oh.” Her brows lowered, and I
stepped hastily back. Embarrassed Harper also liked to hit things, and she redirected her gaze to Orca, who glared back.

  “Well, I meant what I said,” said my suicidal first mate.

  “Then I hope you like sleeping alone.”

  I interrupted their brewing argument. “And another thing. Nobody can know who you are, Harp. Nobody.”

  ••••

  The pod closed around me and Miranda, blocking out the blue light. I lay on my back and let out the shuddering sobs I’d been keeping locked behind my ribs.

  “What do I do? About him?” I asked her.

  “Whatever you want. He doesn’t have to mean anything to you if you don’t want him to.”

  “But we need him.”

  “We don’t. You’ve gotten this far without a father.”

  “No, I mean we need him on our side.” I felt sick at the thought. I never wanted to see him again. Lia’s words kept repeating in my head. Tried to drown me. Lobotomy. The man I’d built my father up to be in his absence was nothing like Kole.

  “I’d prefer Lia, all things considered. Which is saying something.” She stroked my hair as she spoke.

  “We probably need her, too.”

  “First, we both need a nap.”

  “Almost.” I propped myself up on an elbow. She couldn’t see me, but I could see her in waves of sound. “Why didn’t you tell me about your drinking? You promised no more secrets.”

  “There are secrets and there are secrets. Would you have told me about your drug use if I hadn’t called you out?”

  “That was different. It was medicine.”

  “Why the fuck do you think I drink, Rose? Rum isn’t the problem. It’s the solution.”

  “The solution to—” But I didn’t finish. I knew why Miranda Stillwater drank: pain, betrayal, and loss. “Then promise me something.”

  “Almost anything,” she said, rubbing her thumb over the scar on my palm.

  “If it ever is too much—”

  “I can control myself.”

  “No. I mean if the problems ever get to be too much, Miranda Stillwater, you tell me before you throw yourself off my ship.”

  “Your ship?” she said as she kissed my hair. The comment sounded reflexive, and I basked in the semblance of normalcy.

  “Please.”

  “I won’t throw myself overboard,” she said dismissively.

  I pulled away from her and glared at her, though she couldn’t see it. “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m not going to kill myself.”

  “Really? What about your liver?”

  “My liver is fine.”

  “There are other ways you could be dealing with this. I’ve seen your hydrofarms, Mere. You had plenty of alternatives, and I’d bet some are more effective than rum.”

  “Less fun, though.”

  I let her comment go. She could deflect, but I suspected part of the appeal of drinking herself to death was the morbid end result.

  “I want to thank you,” I said.

  “For what?”

  “For what you did for Harper. For not turning her over.”

  “You don’t need to thank me for that. She’s family.”

  “And one more thing.”

  “Is it a nap?”

  “In a second.” I curled against her and rested my head on her shoulder. Her arms closed around me. “I love you. We’re going to figure this out.”

  “By this—”

  “I mean us, yes. We’re probably all going to die, but you and I—”

  “I love you, too, Compass Rose.”

  ••••

  Two tense days later, the commission finally came to a decision to let us stay, and we were moved out of our room into new quarters on Symbiont. If we had to be prisoners, I reminded the crew, then at least these conditions were better than on Man o’ War. For example, no one had attempted to hack off any of our body parts. I ignored Harper’s darkly murmured, “so far.”

  I also ignored Kole’s attempts to speak with me. Lia, who seemed determined never to speak of our shared heritage, aided me in this by denying any and all summonses containing a whiff of his presence. I was grateful. Perhaps one day I’d be ready to talk to Lia and Kole about the blood and lies that bound us, but that day was as distant as the equator. For now, Lia and I circled each other like cats forced to share a storeroom.

  The new suite of rooms assigned to us overlooked a massive garden on one side and deep ocean on the other. Moss covered all the walls. Here, though, the architect had designed or bred the moss to grow in different shades of color, from green to a brilliant red, forming geometric patterns that soothed the eye. Comfortable couches littered the common area, and there was a pool that presumably connected to the rest of the ship’s tubes. Small fish swam in and out through a grated port. There was another common space on the far side, but here the seating area faced the sea. Seamus took to this room at once. He lounged in shafts of sunlight and pricked his ears and whiskers toward the sea life swimming beyond.

  Each of us had a room to ourselves. I shared with Miranda, but Harper gave Orca a flaying look when she suggested they, too, could bunk together. Kraken found the kitchen while the rest of us sorted out sleeping quarters. “There’s a tank for our roasts,” he said, a grin on his face when I joined him. “We’ll have to get them transferred here, and look at this.” He showed me the private hydrogarden provided for our culinary use. No one had yet explained how we were supposed to get rations, but I figured there was time. I wished I shared his enthusiasm.

  A shriek disrupted our tour. We both ran toward the sound, and when I skidded to a halt in the observatory, all the breath left my lungs. Harper and Orca stood transfixed by the plex. Miranda, too, hung slack from a doorway as three large shapes swam past. Their vast bodies were black, but white spots circled their eyes and marked their fins and what I could see of their bellies. The only difference between them and the tattoos on Orca’s arms was their eyes. These creatures’ eyes were black, not red, and full of an intelligence that hurt to behold.

  “Is that . . .” I whispered to Kraken.

  “That’s a whale.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Harper clutch Orca’s hand in repressed excitement, their rift forgotten in light of the impossible. The whales circled, once, pausing to stare in at us before moving on into the shifting light of the autumn sea. I heard them singing as they went.

  My cheeks were not the only ones wet with tears. Kraken sniffed unashamedly as he wiped his eyes. Orca blinked furiously, a counterpart to Harper, who made no effort to hide her weeping. Even Miranda’s eyes caught the light oddly, glittering with unshed salt.

  “I had no idea they were so beautiful,” Orca repeated to herself as she touched her tattoos.

  The whale song lasted long after the orca pod disappeared. I held the notes in my mind, wishing I could share it with my crew, heartbroken they’d never feel it swell against their spine or fill the hollows in their bones as I did. Let the sea wolves kill us; I could die, now, because a loneliness I’d never realized filled the empty ocean had been eased.

  “We’ve been looking for answers in the wrong places,” I said, loath to disturb the lingering echoes of song but possessed with a sudden clarity I needed to voice before my courage failed me.

  “What do you mean?” Harper pulled her hand out of Orca’s as she spoke. The spell cast by the whales was breaking.

  I turned from her to meet Miranda’s blue eyes. She watched me with a levelness she’d been missing since Ching’s reappearance, waiting. She was still my captain. She would always be my captain. But right now, she needed me to pull that weight while she put herself back together. I could do that.

  I would do that.

  “We’re not Archipelagean or pirates or fucking sea wolves. Those are sea wolves.” I pointed in the direction the whales had gone. “We’ve been waiting for someone else to provide us with answers to the problems we created.”

  “I didn’
t create this,” said Orca. Behind Kraken I saw Finn emerge from his room and give me an encouraging smile.

  “We’re each a microcosm of everything that’s wrong with the ocean. Drifter. Pirate. Fleeter. Wolf.” I pointed at each of us in turn.

  “Just because we all get along doesn’t mean these assholes will want to try cooperating,” said Harper. “Or my mother.”

  “We won’t ask them to.”

  “I’m not following,” said Orca.

  Miranda, however, wore a faint smile of approval to match Finn’s. She moved to stand beside me. “Rose is right. Fuck them. It’s time to build something new.”

  Captain’s Log

  Captain Ching Shih

  Man o’ War

  April 4, 2514

  8°11’18”N, 26°22’57”W

  I’ve sent an emissary to Josephine Comita with a special gift. It’s fitting to think that by taking everything from me, she lost her daughter—and that as I take back what is mine, I will be the one to return her.

  In pieces.

  It doesn’t matter that Harper has temporarily evaded us. Her mother will recognize the finger. I made sure to select one with a prominent childhood scar. Recognizing it, she will not question the pieces that follow. Reya shall pay for her role in their escape. They share a similar complexion, and a similar appetite for revolution.

  We’ll see how cold Comita is when it’s her daughter’s feet on the plank.

  Epilogue

  Josephine Comita stared at the box on her desk. It had come in on the tide, carried by a witless drifter who even now languished in the brig. She’d detain him as long as necessary. Forever. Because whether he knew it or not, the news he’d brought had damned every ship in the ocean not under her command. She would sink them all until she found her.

  Her daughter.

  Mija. The endearment, passed to her from her mother and her mother’s mother and down the maternal line since the collapse, burned in her throat. How had she let her go? How could she have believed her safe in the hands of that—that—

  Words failed her. She cupped the box, not daring to open it again but unable to dispose of the gruesome talisman inside. Her daughter. Her headstrong, brilliant, beautiful daughter, who was everything she’d raised her to be and more. She’d thought by letting her go, she’d given her a chance for seasoning. She’d hoped Harper would return wiser. Perhaps a trifle more levelheaded. Certainly, more aware of the forces ranged against them.