Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,37

“If it was him, he went far out of his way to establish his cover.”

Caledonia searched her mind for any clues she might have missed, any sign that he’d been working against her the entire time. But she could find none.

“Doesn’t seem likely,” Pisces admitted. “But it is possible.”

“Just as possible as the individual pieces making their way past inspection.”

“He knows about the rendezvous.” Pisces was already thinking ahead.

Only the captains of each ship had the rendezvous coordinates. As the captain of his ship, Ennick was one of the trusted few. If he was responsible for the attack on Cloudbreak, then the rendezvous was in trouble as well.

For a second, a taunting chorus sang in Caledonia’s mind: This is what comes of trusting Bullets. Rage simmered beneath her ribs, hot and eager for release. But this wasn’t an answer, she reminded herself firmly, only speculation.

“We’ll know more when we get there,” Caledonia stood, wincing at the pain in her ankle. “We’ll make our approach with caution, as planned. Otherwise, this stays between us. I don’t want the crew looking for traitors in their midst, especially when there may be none to find.”

“Agreed,” Pisces said with a nod.

As they left the small chamber and returned to the stream of activity on deck, another thought slithered through Caledonia’s mind, sinking down through her spine to anchor itself in the nauseated bowl of her belly: the only person responsible for this disaster was herself.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

They sailed again inside the hour. The sea fanned open before them in endless bands of blue, crashing into the horizon, where the sky was trapped beneath a thick layer of clouds. The wind blew from the south, carrying an edge of warmth. Caledonia welcomed the kiss of salt against her lips, the cloak of fine sea mist, the sensation of the world rushing beneath her feet. It was a single good feeling in a crush of sorrow and loss.

The rendezvous was still more than a day’s sail from their current position, and Caledonia scanned the horizon for signs of pursuit. Finding none, she ordered Tin to walk her through each repair, the list of each wounded crew member, and the status of their supplies. When that was done, the only thing left was to stay alert and sail hard.

They weren’t out of danger yet. As a crew, they would need to mark the loss of their siblings, warriors, and friends. They’d need to mourn the loss of their home. And Caledonia would need a chance to regain her footing. There wasn’t time for all that now, but if she didn’t give herself a moment to breathe, she was going to suffocate.

“Pi!” she called across the deck. “You’re in command.”

Her sister gave her a nod before repeating the order for all to hear. “I have command.”

Belowdecks, the air was cool and smelled faintly of smoke and gunpowder, reminders that though they’d repaired the worst of it, their ship was just as compromised as its crew. Caledonia had chosen speed over repairs: one more decision that could get them all killed. If they had to fight before they reached the rendezvous, their recent wounds could become a liability. Before the attack, Caledonia would have made the call with confidence. Now uncertainty crouched on her shoulder, whispering urgent questions into her ear: Had she made the right call? Had she missed something vital? Had she lost her edge and put everyone at risk again?

Caledonia rushed inside her chambers and pressed her back against the cold steel of the hatch, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. When she’d managed three in a row, just as she’d instructed Nettle, she moved to the sink and splashed cool water over her face, dragging wet hands through her hair. Her fingers trembled as she cupped them beneath the spigot to bring water to her mouth, and she had to pause to grip the sides of the sink; her hands couldn’t shake when she flexed her muscles. But she knew the only way to stop this unsolicited reaction was to let it work its way through her body, so she released her grip and curled up on her bed.

As a shiver traveled from her hands to her shoulders to her torso, all she could think was that Nettle would be so disappointed that her captain was hiding again. Imagining the girl’s frown helped her breathe a little easier. They had lost so much. She had cost them so much. So much that she