Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,9

bit as massive as the exterior. The lower decks were primarily reserved for storage. There were drying rooms filled with blossoms in various stages of dehydration; storage vaults with crates packed full of already dried flowers; rooms piled high with fresh soil and fertilizer. The air smelled sweet and dry and only faintly of smoke so far beneath the main deck.

“Nothing to eat,” Pisces said mournfully. “We’ll have to sink this entire thing just to make sure no one gets their hands on this stuff.”

“We should keep the soil, at least,” Amina added, peering into another chamber and scanning for survivors. “If we can move it.”

“Silver Fleet has a hauler with them,” Caledonia said. “Once they load up whatever soil they can take, we sink the rest.”

“One hauler?” Amina’s voice was tight. A single hauler would only take a fraction of the clean soil they’d found. They’d be sinking a treasure. One that could give them the capacity to grow more than the paltry crops they’d managed to establish on Cloudbreak.

But they were too far from home to defend the barge if Lir sent reinforcements. And hauling it would leave them too vulnerable.

“One,” Caledonia answered, holding Amina’s gaze.

Sacrifice was a familiar part of their world, but sometimes it was easier to sacrifice when you had less to lose.

“Captain.” Folly jogged down the long corridor, her usually peach tones pinked with sun and exertion. She smiled less since her girlfriend Pippa’s death, and for a while her fight had taken on the reckless edge of grief, but she was finding her balance again. “We’ve gathered the survivors topside. Eight in all.”

“Amina, you take point on soil collection. I want it wrapped up before sundown,” Caledonia said. “Pi, with me.”

Back on the main deck, the survivors waited on their knees, hands bound in front. Caledonia scraped her gaze across the eight faces before her. Three had been dousing the lost crops when she arrived and five had come from down below. None of them looked remotely fierce enough to claim the title of Fiveson.

“Where is Decker?” Caledonia demanded.

“There’s no Decker here, Caledonia Styx. Not anymore.” The answer came from a woman with an irreverent smile. Her suntanned skin was smeared with ash, but her eyes were bright. She knelt in the midst of the survivors with an air of confidence that the others leaned toward: the leader.

Caledonia stepped closer, forcing the woman to tip her head back to look at her. “What’s your name?”

“Remi,” the woman answered. She stared at Caledonia with some kind of edgeless wonder, as if they hadn’t just lost their entire crop of baleflowers and a small fleet of ships.

“And why won’t I find him here, Remi?”

“Because he’s dead.”

“And who is your new Fiveson?” Caledonia asked, irritation inching toward anger. Lir’s three remaining Fivesons—Venn, Decker, Tassos—each maintained control over some element of the Bullet Seas. Venn was in charge of recruitment, operating out of Slipmark, which had closed its iron jaws soon after Aric’s death; Tassos controlled the Net; and Decker had protected the AgriFleet.

This time, Remi gave a low chuckle before she answered. “Didn’t you hear? There are no more Fivesons. They’re dead.” She paused, and her smile turned knowing before she added, “By Lir’s order. But not his hand. Do you want to know by whose?”

Caledonia felt a knot form in her stomach. She didn’t want to hear the answer, but suspected she knew it already.

Remi’s eyes brightened with a delight so cruel she might as well have a knife pressed to Caledonia’s heart.

“Lir sent Donnally to kill them all.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The scent of smoke clung to the back of Caledonia’s throat.

Donnally. She hated the casual way Remi had said his name, as if she knew him. As if she knew him better than Caledonia did.

The twist of nausea in Caledonia’s gut told her it was true: she didn’t know her brother at all anymore. She hadn’t known him in a long time, but in spite of everything, she didn’t know how to conjure a Donnally in her mind who was capable of what Remi claimed. Yes, Bullets killed. But not their own.

Or, that was the way it used to be. Things would be different now that Aric was dead and Lir was in charge. If Caledonia let her thoughts detach from her heart, she could see the purpose behind the strategy. Without Aric to control the Fivesons, what was to stop them from challenging Lir’s claim to the Bullet Seas? Perhaps they’d started to do just