Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,11

choose him. But I don’t want you to choose me instead,” Caledonia answered, voice calm and level. “I want you to choose you.”

With that, Caledonia and Pisces left the survivors to make their decisions while the crew salvaged what they could from the barge and set charges to send the rest to the deep. Caledonia watched from her tall perch on the Luminous Wake as evidence of the battle and Fiveson Decker were slowly pulled apart or sank beneath the murky blue chop of the ocean.

“Nearly done, Cala.” Pisces pulled herself up the ladder and joined Caledonia on the platform where they’d started the morning. “Most of the fleet has moved out. Just a few more and then we can get underway.”

“Reports?” Caledonia asked.

“Piston took a direct hit and we lost six souls in all, no ships.”

The two of them had grown so used to this conversation that they no longer struggled to have it, but it landed just as heavily on their shoulders. Just because they had grown used to discussing their people in numbers didn’t mean they had to think of them that way. She’d have the names later for the Parting Ceremony, which happened all too frequently now.

Nodding, Caledonia asked, “And recruits?”

“Remi chose to stay.”

Caledonia’s jaw nearly dropped at the news. “Suspicious.”

“To say the least,” Pisces agreed. “All but one other from the barge chose to go and seventeen from the surrendering vessel chose to stay as well.”

“More than usual,” Caledonia said. “How many are we releasing?”

Bullet recruits were never easy news. Their surrender was suspect, their recovery brutal, and after all of that their loyalty was never certain. Bringing them back to Cloudbreak was like returning with a basket of poisonous snakes, all poised to strike. Sending them back to Lir was almost as bad. But the war was bigger than an individual battle, and they wouldn’t win this fight with guns alone.

Pisces hesitated before saying, “One hundred and thirteen.”

“So many.” The number was always discomfiting, but this was more than usual.

“The silencers worked exactly as we’d hoped. Nearly everyone struck by them survived. And nearly all of them are going back. That’s a . . . good thing.” Pisces sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than Caledonia. When they’d first discussed using a weapon that didn’t kill Bullets but only incapacitated them, Pisces had been skeptical. She’d argued that sparing them now only meant killing them later.

But Caledonia had responded, “We can’t save the world by killing it first,” and Pisces had reluctantly ceded the point.

“It is a good thing. Our goal right now is to diminish Lir’s fleet, not decimate his army. They have to know that we aren’t just like him.” Caledonia reached for her sister’s hand and squeezed. “How many ships did we get?”

“Eight, bringing the standing fleet to fifty-four.”

Caledonia frowned. It wasn’t enough. Lir had nearly two hundred, and if they were going to sail against a fleet of that size, they needed to be gathering more than a handful of battle-ready ships every other moon. At this rate, all she’d ever manage to do was hold her perimeter.

“Hey, these are the bright bits,” Pisces admonished even as she smiled.

“You’re right.” Caledonia shrugged the glower from her face and returned the smile. “Every ship we gain is a victory.”

“I know you want to be ready now. But we’ll get there. We are getting there. And we’re a hell of a lot closer than we’ve ever been.” Pisces looked at the place where the massive barge had been this morning. A single spearing tower was all that remained of the ship and even that was slowly sinking beneath the waves. “And if Lir is taking down his own Fivesons, then he’s worried. About something.”

Caledonia doubted that Lir would ever admit to being worried about anything. Lir’s view of the world and his place in it didn’t leave room for doubt. His was a narrative of self-assurance, one that constantly repositioned him as a destined, all-powerful leader. Lir did everything out of ambition, not worry. He’d killed his brothers not out of fear, but for power.

“Maybe,” Caledonia said, always uncomfortable with how naturally she imagined Lir’s mind. “We’re going to need more of Amina’s silencers. Tell Nettle to resume course to the Braids.”

As Pisces left for the bridge, an even darker thought ghosted through Caledonia’s mind. If it was so easy for Lir to kill those he called brother, how long would it be before Donnally shared the fate of