Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,113
the celebration swelled between them. The moon above was full and blue light ringed the barges like pools of starlight. All around, the ocean was covered in orange petals. Every last one had been plucked and delivered to the sea. Except the one Caledonia held as she waited for her brother’s answer.
Donnally raised his eyes to the stars, then slowly brought them back to Caledonia. When he spoke, the words were careful, measured, as if each one had been weighed out precisely. “I think it’s more accurate to say I’m still working on it. But I’d never been given a choice before. Not like that. Lir saved my life, and I guess I wanted a chance to do the same for him. Save his life.”
The idea that Lir had ever done anything to save her brother’s life was infuriating. It was all Caledonia could do to concentrate on not crushing the blossom in her hand. If she could keep from doing that, she could keep from lashing out.
“He’s . . . he’s my brother.” Donnally said it as kindly as he could, but without apology. Whatever had happened in his life, he’d ended up with the person she despised most in the world and they’d become family.
Caledonia caught herself midway through a snarl. Fury burned in her cheeks and she tossed the blossom into the water. “You still think that? Even after standing against him? He took everything from you.”
“I do,” Donnally answered quickly, then paused, licking his lips before saying anything more. “Do you— Are you going to execute him?”
The question surprised her. But not nearly so much as the realization that it mattered to Donnally if Lir lived or died.
“I—we haven’t decided.” She gave the most honest answer she could.
Donnally nodded and seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say next. “Whatever you decide to do, I won’t stand in your way, but if you do decide to execute him, I’d like to make a request.”
“What?”
“I’d like to see him before he dies. Just . . . I’d like to say goodbye.”
Caledonia’s head felt light and her stomach churned. She wanted to deny him. She wanted to deny Lir the privilege of seeing her brother one last time.
But hurting Lir at the expense of her brother wasn’t worth it.
She blew out a breath as she nodded. “I’ll make sure you have the opportunity.”
“Thank you.” He relaxed visibly after that. It made Caledonia feel marginally better to know that asking the question hadn’t been easy for him.
“You’re welcome,” she said, voice softer now.
For a moment they stood quietly side by side. While she watched the revelry spinning across their island of boats, Donnally tipped his head to the sky. He was so familiar to Caledonia and so foreign at the same time. The distance between them was much greater than the few inches between their bodies. It left Caledonia feeling impatient and unsettled in her own skin until finally she broke.
“Donnally.” Before he could answer, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. He tensed. She tensed. And then they laughed together. He was taller than he’d been, Caledonia had to stand on her toes to avoid smushing her face into his chest. His arms circled her waist and he lifted her easily from the ground.
They parted wearing the same awkward smile, and Caledonia knew that while their way forward was still choppy and full of rocks hidden just beneath the surface, they would navigate the way together.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
The streets of South Haven were busy in the evenings. Sailors rushed up from the harbor while farmers spilled down from the fields, and children raced along in small groups, hurrying toward the mess halls for the evening meal.
South Haven, or the Holster, as it was once known, had changed shape overnight, it seemed. In the weeks since the Battle of the Bale Blossom, people had flocked to its harbor. At first, it was because they were hungry, but then, as people found the place changed, they came to stay. They came to make the city their own. There were signs of change everywhere, from the ships free of desiccated bodies displayed on spikes to the covering of bandolier scars. South Haven was a place where people went to change.
The gun towers still flew the banner of Caledonia’s fleet, shining boldly through the night. The fleet itself still existed. Fifty ships had been sent in all directions, offering aid to anyone who needed it and resistance