Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,62
sour on his face.
“Cepheus, let’s move!” Tassos barked.
Caledonia turned to confirm the rest of her team was aboard the Deep Cut. Pisces stood nearest. She bore an expression of cold malice, one hand resting on the grip of her gun. On top of that hand was Oran’s, fingers glinting with silver splints as he prevented her from shooting the Fiveson. Just behind them, Sledge and Nettle stood side by side, their expressions equally stormy.
“Make ready,” Cepheus called.
Across the water, Tin echoed the order and the griphooks of both ships rose and snapped loudly into place, leaving the Deep Cut and Luminous Wake free to sail.
“Join me on the bridge, Captain,” Tassos commanded as the ship surged forward.
“Let’s go,” Caledonia said in a low voice, giving each of her team a pointed look.
When Tassos strode across his deck the entire ship responded as though he himself was a ship in the ocean pushing waves in all directions. His crew made way or marked him warily, orbiting around him like insects circling a carcass. They eyed Caledonia and her command crew with a mix of keen disinterest and hunger. Caledonia noted the ones who seemed unable to look away from Oran. For now, they were under the protection of Tassos, but what would happen when he looked away?
The ship was similar in design to the Luminous Wake, except instead of climbing up to the bridge, they skirted around it to where the deck swept low toward the racing water. Tassos took the lead as the ship darted ahead of the fleet.
The Net was suddenly very close and now Caledonia could see exactly how it had earned its name. The ships weren’t just evenly spaced but woven together like a flexible, yet treacherous scarf. What she’d taken for long ropes of razored wire and hooks was, in truth, a vast array of webbing. The webs draped between the stationary ships like canopies, but Caledonia felt certain that any rogue vessel attempting to slip through the Net would trigger the trap. Those webs would drop, ensnaring an entire ship to prevent its escape. And if previous experience was any indicator, they were likely electrified, too.
“Cala,” Pisces said, her eyes locked not on the Net itself but the water. “Fins.”
Caledonia followed her sister’s gaze to the sight of six fins. They slashed through the water in lazy rocking motions, deep gray sails above shadowed bodies. These weren’t the blunt dorsals of dolphins but the black-tipped flags of sharks. As she searched the bright blue water, she found more of the creatures swimming far beneath the surface and clustering close to the hulls of other ships down the line. There were dozens of them.
“Keep your crews on their ships,” Tassos said.
“Is that what they’re here for,” Caledonia answered, ignoring the threat. “To keep your crews in line?”
This won another laugh “I don’t need sharks to keep my clip in line.”
“But you do need something.”
At this, Tassos abandoned his jovial tone, his voice dipping low when he answered, “We all need something, Bale Blossom.”
The closer they drew to the Net, the more Caledonia marveled at the intricacies of its design. Here at the end, there was a ship unlike the others. It was long and flat, its base marked by what appeared to be two narrow tunnels leading straight through to the other side of the Net. The deck seemed to rise and fall chaotically, without a thought for function, and the whole of it crawled right up to the shore of the Bone Mouth’s nearest island. Beyond this point, the the islands themselves became the barricade.
Caledonia tried to peer between the ships to catch even a glimpse of the Silt Rig, but with only seconds to scour the sea, she had no luck. The ship approached swiftly until all she could see was the Net itself. Every piece of it fed so seamlessly into another, she realized she had no idea where they were going to dock. Just as soon as she’d had the thought, the ship cut its speed, then rotated and began to slide backward toward a narrow space in the matrix. Docking orders were shouted up and down the main deck and the Deep Cut inched backward.
The air here was stale with salt and sulpher. Sharks cut close in the waters below, as much at home here as the ships themselves. Massive griphooks came down on either side, snapping the Deep Cut in place, one more link in the chain.