Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,95
ships like hers. Strange to be in control of a tool that had been used to control and curtail so much of the Bullet Seas. It made her feel like an imposter, like she was about to get caught.
Taking the receiver from a wide-eyed crew member, Caledonia excused those feelings and reached instead for the confidence she felt whenever she stood at the helm of a ship.
“Lir,” she said.
“Caledonia.” It wasn’t the crooning greeting she’d come to expect, but something darker. As if, for the first time, he wasn’t pleased to be speaking with her. But it was what he said next that truly startled her: “Where is my brother?”
Caledonia turned wide eyes to Oran, unable to respond as her stomach filled with lead.
“Tassos had him, but I’m here and Donnally’s not, which must mean you have him.” He paused. Silence razored through the static. “I want my brother back.”
“He is not your brother.” The lead in Caledonia’s stomach turned molten, roiling in the deep sea of her belly. If she opened her mouth again, she was sure her breath would be hot enough to sear her lips and melt the receiver in her hand.
“Isn’t he?” Lir challenged. “Tell me, then, is he there of his own volition? Or is he a prisoner? Because I know my brother. I know him better than you do, and I would never imprison him as you have.”
“He’s not a prisoner.” A furious wave of anger surged in Caledonia’s mind. Lir didn’t get to care about her brother. He didn’t get to claim him or know him or worry about his well-being. He didn’t get to take any part of her family for himself.
“Then I will see him soon,” Lir answered, so certain. “And if I don’t, I’ll be seeing you soon.”
A hollow wind sang in Caledonia’s ears. The receiver was suddenly very heavy in her hand. Static filtered through, and for a long minute all she could do was stare at it. Then, just as suddenly as rage had clouded her mind, it cleared. She dug into her pocket for the garnet from Hesperus, pressing her thumb against its cool surface.
“Open a channel,” she snapped at Harwell.
“Yes, Captain.” Harwell bobbed his head rapidly. “Open.”
Raising the receiver once more to her mouth, Caledonia let all her rage and fear and hope collect her voice. “This is Caledonia Styx. I have taken the Holster from Fiveson Lir. The city, and all its ships, are mine alone, and with them, I promise to end the time of Bullets. I will change the face of these seas, but I cannot do it without your help. If you are listening to this, then I am speaking to you. Now is the time to stand up and join us. Now is the time to fight.”
* * *
>><<
Caledonia went straight from the communication tower to Donnally’s room.
If he was more Lir’s brother than he was hers, she needed to know it. Not from Lir, but from Donnally himself. She needed her answer.
At his door, she paused, hand raised to knock. If he chose Lir, she had to be ready to harden her heart against him. She had to be ready to face her own brother as an enemy.
She drew in a deep breath, preapring herself for the conversation that would follow, but the door creaked on its hinges, already ajar.
Caledonia’s heart thumped swiftly in her chest as she shoved open the door and found an empty room. The bed was neatly made and every trace of Donnally was gone save for a note left on the pillow.
The paper was small, hardly enough to contain more than a few words. Snatching it up, Caledonia unfolded it and read the message:
Caledonia,
Please understand, I cannot make the choice you want me to make. Not yet. Not without seeing him again.
Donnally
Vividly, violently, she recalled that moment on the deck of the Titan when she’d asked him to go with her and he’d refused. He’d called Lir brother.
That single word had carved a wound so deep in Caledonia, she wasn’t sure she’d ever recover from it. Perhaps that was the moment she’d changed. Perhaps her ability to make terrible decisions, to build and use her own star blossom bombs, to slide a dagger into a man’s neck without mercy, all stemmed from the moment her own brother had looked at her and chosen Lir instead. Would she be capable of these things if she had lost less? If she had cared less?