Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,18
enough. He’s brutal. I have to be prepared to end this one way or another.”
They stayed that way for a long time. Her head against his chest, his fingers threaded through her hair. She quietly told him about Decker being dead, about Donnally, about the murdered Fivesons who used to be Oran’s brothers, too. There was nothing she could say that he would hate or reject, because for all her growing familiarity with darkness, Oran had already been there.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dawn was always dark in Cloudbreak. Mornings arrived muffled behind curtains of mist and fog or smothered beneath layers of clouds. It was a constant source of frustration for Caledonia. In her time here, she’d seen the sun rise gloriously exactly once. Every other morning, the light diffused slowly through dense white fog until the sun finally burned its way through. By the time it appeared, it was more than halfway across the sky, and dusk was ready to stake its claim.
Today had been such a dismal day. All filter, no brilliance. As the sun vanished on their second night since returning to Cloudbreak, Caledonia flung a shawl around her shoulders and climbed into the wide-open window of the observatory. A brisk ocean breeze greeted her, sliding cool kisses along her cheeks and down her neck. The stars were just beginning to spear the darkening sky and the moon was low against the horizon.
Below her the ships of her fleet were outlined in rings of glowing blue sun pips. There hadn’t been room in the original harbor to accommodate a fleet of this number, so they’d built a new one, transforming the existing chain of breaker isles into two continuous jetties with a gate at the center. Just outside the gate, the eight newly recovered Bullet ships sat at anchor, awaiting inspection and repair.
Her eyes pushed at the eastern horizon, searching for what she knew was there but could not see. The Holster was three days’ sail from here in good weather, which meant it was possible that right now, miles and miles from here, Lir was learning of his loss. She wished she could see it.
She wished she knew what to do next.
* * *
>><<
“Evening, Captain.”
Caledonia turned at the sound of Amina’s voice. She entered, carrying a tray with six steaming mugs. Hime walked beside her, a pile of blankets draped across her arms. Behind her came Pisces, a knit cap pulled over her bare head, with Nettle and Tin at her heels.
“Did I call a meeting?” Caledonia accepted the steaming mug, which turned out to be mulled cherry wine.
“Not out loud.” Long braids spilled over Amina’s shoulder as she tipped her head and considered her captain. “But it was time.”
Overdue, Hime added firmly, throwing the blankets down in a pile and turning her attention swiftly to the glowing embers in the fire pit.
Soon, a small fire was burning in the center of the room and Caledonia had climbed down from her perch in the window to join her sisters around it.
“Does Hesperus know you got into his stash?” Caledonia asked, eyes traveling to Nettle as she took a sip of her wine, savoring the bright blend of sweet and tart flavors.
“Why do you assume it was me?” Nettle smiled her devious smile. “I will admit, usually it’s me, but this time . . .”
“I took it,” Pisces announced. “And I’m not sorry.”
“Unrepentant! Ha!” Nettle cried, hopping in her seat and spinning to Amina with a triumphant grin on her face.
“That’s a word you should have known already, Nettle. Shameless as you are,” Tin said, rolling her eyes fondly.
“Are you still teaching her new words?” Pisces teased. “That will only lead to trouble. The last thing we need is for Nettle to talk more.”
They laughed, raising their glasses together and drinking the rest of their wine before it cooled. Amina gave Nettle a new list of vocabulary words while Hime rested against Amina’s chest and Tin poked at the fire. It was an unexpected moment of relief, and Caledonia felt her smiles coming a little easier. She was glad to know she could still breathe and laugh and just exist in a ring of firelight with her sisters for a moment.
“Thank you,” Caledonia said when their laughter had faded into the crackle and hiss of the fire. “For knowing me better than I know myself sometimes.”
Pisces reached over and took Caledonia’s hand in her own, braiding their fingers loosely together. “It’s our job to know you best, Cala.”