Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,22
dismissing the girl. “Everything else can wait.”
Tin nodded, all too happy to take the opportunity for a quick shower, and Caledonia turned her steps toward the upper levels where Hesperus kept his office. Her muscles ached as she entered the spiraling stairwells and stepped into a slow jog. The stairwell was crowded with people heading to or from evening meals, shifts, or their quarters, but as she passed the fifth level, the traffic thinned until it was just her. The only people still on level six were the two guards standing outside Hesperus’s office door, and they let Caledonia pass without challenge.
Inside the wide chamber, Hesperus stood with his back to the door, hands braced low against his hips as he studied the harbor below.
“You smell like the mountain,” he said without turning.
“I’m certain I smell worse,” Caledonia conceded. “How did we do?”
“Better.” Hesperus jumped right into his reports. “Silver Fleet was all accounted for and on the water in seventeen minutes. A new record.”
“A new goal,” Caledonia murmured, glancing at the papers Hesperus slid across the desk toward her. “They beat their previous time by two minutes. What changed?”
Hesperus only shook his head. “Nothing but practice as far as I know. Amber and Cobalt Fleets came in at twenty-two minutes, just like last time, and Viridian at twenty-seven. You had the Luminous in play at thirty-one minutes, a new record for you, and the remainder of Red Fleet was ready in just thirty. They still have some trouble getting through the northern canals. Still, in this scenario, our first line of defense is on the water in plenty of time to meet inbound ships. I’m sure Sledge will give you a full report.”
Caledonia imagined the drill as she never could when she was on her own ship, separated from the bigger picture by all but a radio. That was the most challenging part of commanding a fleet: letting the action unfurl as it was planned to instead of under her direct control. They were getting better, faster. If Lir moved on her before she could move on him, they’d be ready.
“And before you ask, no, I didn’t sail with Viridian Fleet.”
She’d known this was coming, but she’d hoped her suspicions were wrong. “Hesperus, I need you to run the drill at least once. I know you know what to do, but there’s a difference between knowing and doing.”
Hesperus was already shaking his head, an argument ready in his deep ocean eyes. “It’s a moot point. I’m not running the drill because my place will always be on Cloudbreak. Nothing will ever convince me to leave. It’s that simple.”
“Yes, your place is here, and the likelihood of that changing is extremely small, but I would appreciate if you would run a damn drill at least once. Any of them. Pick one!” Heat colored Caledonia’s words and some distant part of her marveled at her ability to speak to the Sly King of Cloudbreak as his superior. “Please, Hesperus.”
A narrowing of the eyes was his only answer. Caledonia waited him out, expression unforgiving. For a moment, the silent battle raged between them, neither willing to move from their position. Then, finally, Hesperus sighed. He pulled out his chair and sat heavily, gesturing for her to take the seat opposite him. Caledonia relented, warily lowering herself into the old wooden chair.
“I have something for you.” Hesperus’s voice was tired, his eyes heavy as he reached into his desk drawer and produced a small pouch. He held it out for her. “A small token, but one I’ve been meaning to give you for a while.”
Curious, Caledonia tipped the contents into her palm, catching a small, black stone just large enough to sit comfortably in her hand. She turned it over, noting the way a resilient reddish hue revealed itself almost resentfully, as if unable to resist the light in spite of itself.
“It’s a garnet. Unpolished,” Hesperus explained. “I found that one on my first day in Cloudbreak and have carried it with me ever since. It’s always reminded me of how much more there is to this place than I’ll ever be able to discover, how much there is to protect for myself and others.”
It was a talisman. Several of her girls carried small symbols of the past that helped them look into an otherwise dim future. Even she carried one, though the knife sheathed at her waist was less hopeful than most.