Seafire Read online

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  First published in the United States of America by Razorbill, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2018

  Copyright © 2018 by Alloy Entertainment and Natalie C. Parker

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  Ebook ISBN 9780451478818

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Names: Parker, Natalie C.

  Title: Seafire / Natalie C. Parker.

  Description: [New York] : Razorbill, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, [2018] | Summary: Follows Caledonia Styx, captain of her own ship, the Mors Navis, and its all-female crew as they strive to defeat the powerful fleet of Aric Athair, the vicious warlord who has taken their homes and families.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018012935 | ISBN 9780451478801 (hardback) Subjects: | CYAC: Ship captains—Fiction. | Sex role—Fiction. | Seafaring life—Fiction. | Adventure and adventurers—Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.P2275 Se 2018 | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018012935

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Version_1

  Sisters fight with each other,

  for each other,

  and by each other’s side.

  I’m lucky to have one like you, Rosie.

  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Before

  Chapter One: Four Years Later

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  BEFORE

  Caledonia stretched along the prow of the Ghost as the ship sliced through black water. At night, the ocean offered only a dark reflection of the sky above, and the promise of a cold grave below.

  Her mother, Rhona, crouched near, a rifle balanced on her knees, eyes surveying the sea road ahead. “Our way forward is marred. Do you see?” she said.

  Caledonia studied the eddies in the water, searching for the signs that meant there were rocks ahead, or a sunken ship, unusual swirls, or a sudden chop of waves. Rhona was always the first to spot them, but Caledonia was getting better.

  “Rocks,” Caledonia said, and without waiting for permission, she turned and called to her father where he stood on the bridge. “Three degrees port!”

  The Ghost nosed south to avoid the sharp danger. On either side, familiar outlines of small islands rose around the ship. These were the waters of the Bone Mouth, a series of islands and rocky protrusions that offered flimsy sanctuary to anyone brave enough to sail them. They were treacherous in daylight, and nearly impassable at night, except by Caledonia’s mother, Rhona Styx, captain of the Ghost. Under her command, they sailed as smoothly as if on open blue waters.

  Years ago, Rhona liked to remind her daughter, they wouldn’t have needed such stealth. When Rhona was a girl, she sailed from the colder northern currents, past the towering Rock Isles, all the way down to the Bone Mouth without any more danger than the occasional storm. Then, so gradually few noticed until it was too late, a man named Aric Athair had grown a fleet of ships armed and armored for taking and killing. His fleet of Bullet ships stretched in a violent chain across the only way in or out of these expansive waters. Anyone on the wrong side of his notorious Net found themselves bent under the pressure of his thumb.

  Now, after years of dodging Aric Athair and his Bullets, and facing dwindling resources, Rhona had decided the time had come for their small band to punch through the Net. For months, they’d searched for the best way. They’d studied the Bullet ships from a distance and determined the weakest point was at the tip of the Bone Mouth, where even Aric’s ships were loath to sail. The Ghost could make it, but first they needed food—fruit, nuts, and meat if they could get it—to supplement their stores for the unknown waters beyond.

  Tonight, they resupplied. But tomorrow night, they ran for the very last time.

  “You and your brother prep for the shore run.” Rhona’s red hair rolled behind her, battling with the wind.

  A small thrill straightened Caledonia’s spine. From the age of six, she’d campaigned for the responsibility of shore runs to be hers. Only in the last year had her mother finally conceded and assigned her the task. But as much as Caledonia cherished the trust her mother placed in her on those occasions, she knew her little brother hated those long dark rides to shore. He would spend the entire night terrified of being so far from the safety of their ship.

  “Let me take Pisces.” Caledonia climbed to her feet and followed her mother. “We’re a good team. Besides, Donnally’s too young for shore runs. He’s only twelve turns, you know.”

  Rhona laughed her grizzly laugh. “You know this from all your experience?”

  Caledonia pictured Donnally’s eyes tight with fear, his mouth pressed into a stoic line as he struggled not to disappoint their mother. “I do,” she answered.

  “Cala, the only way your brother will learn is by your side,” Rhona said with a sigh, but there was no fight in her words.

  Mother and daughter skirted the bridge, then took turns sliding down the companionway ladder to the deck below. Even in the moonl
ess dark, they knew their way easily around the Ghost. The ship had become a refuge for families looking to escape Aric’s rule. As their numbers grew, every inch of the ship was transformed to meet a variety of needs—masts supported sails and laundry lines, the galley was transformed daily from a mess hall to a bunk room, even the deck was host to stacked garden beds and two goat pens. While more than a dozen men and women were still topside at this hour, most of the crew was asleep in the small cabins below. There were lookouts posted forward and stern and up in the nest, but here in the Bone Mouth, the Ghost had never come across one of Aric’s Bullet ships at night. Bullets were vicious and bold, but most lacked Rhona’s seafaring skill.

  Caledonia spied her brother crouched behind one of the four mast blocks studding the centerline of the ship, an overlarge jacket hulking around him like a gray cloud. He had their father’s dark hair, their mother’s fair complexion, and a nose that curled up at the tip, giving him a look of perpetual surprise.

  The lines of a blunted arrowhead tattoo half-filled with black ink peeked out from beneath his curls. A matching one was drawn on her own temple. It was custom on the Ghost for parents to mark their children with unique sigils in case of capture. The mark would give those children the chance to find their family again someday.

  “I’ll take him next time.” Guilt nudged at Caledonia. Her mother was right. The only way to prepare Donnally for the world was to take him into it, but sometimes she feared for her little brother. The gentle pinch in her mother’s eyes said she did, too.

  “Donnally!” Rhona called. “Hoist your eyes, son!”

  Donnally started, rocketing awkwardly to his feet before he managed to spot his mother and sister. He trudged across the deck at a reluctant pace, dark hair flopping in his eyes. He schooled his features when he asked, “Shore run?” But the note of tension in his voice gave him away.

  “Yes, but not for you. Cala’s taking Pi, which means I want you and Ares on watch. Clear?” Rhona pointed toward the nest.

  Donnally nodded eagerly. “Clear,” he said, giving Caledonia a grateful smile.

  Rhona pulled her daughter into her arms, planting a kiss on her head. “Get the job done.”

  “And get back to the ship,” Caledonia finished.

  By the time they dropped anchor near an island they called the Gem, Caledonia and Pisces were prepped and ready to go. They climbed into the bow boat harnessed against the hull of the Ghost and lowered it to the water as they’d done a dozen times before.

  With quick strokes of the oars they covered the distance between their ship and the island. Recently, Pisces had grown several inches. She’d outgrown her little brother, Ares, and shot straight past Caledonia, and her height seemed to make her fearless. Pisces’s shoulders were broad and strong, her skin a warm, pale brown, and she wore her hair in four long braids. As they rowed, her eyes were full of excitement, focused on the island and its bounty, while Caledonia kept one eye on the black ocean.

  “It’s too quiet. I don’t like it,” Caledonia said.

  Pisces pulled in a deep breath and tilted a ready smile toward her friend. “It’s peaceful, like being so far underwater you can’t see the surface.”

  “That’s called drowning. Only you would find that peaceful.”

  Pisces laughed quietly to avoid unsettling Caledonia further.

  Together they moored their boat in a sheltered cove, securing it in a thicket of tall grass. The girls split up to make their work faster, agreeing to meet back at the cove when their sacks were full.

  The path down the shore was narrow, the ocean as dark as the night sky and nearly as flat. Caledonia moved along the rocky tree line, stuffing fallen coconuts and bananas and jackfruit into the canvas sacks draped across her shoulders. There was enough that she could afford to be picky, though the more she gathered, the longer they’d be able to sail. No one knew what to expect when they broke through the Net. They might need to sail for days or months, and they needed to be prepared for both. People once said that beyond the Net were wide-open seas and towns where children weren’t forced into the service of a tyrant, but it was a world Caledonia could not quite imagine.

  The tide was low and the waves sluggish, burbling and hissing as they surged and receded. In their wake, the sand glittered with the pearlescent shells of burrowing crabs and the slick backs of beached jellyfish. From the dense forest came the looping songs of insects and tree frogs. Perhaps she would return with meat after all.

  Footsteps, hurried and heavy, sounded behind her.

  Caledonia’s heart tripped, her hands stuttered on the strap of her canvas bag, and she instinctively slipped through a fall of vines. There had been no other ships in sight for miles. These footsteps must belong to Pisces. They had to.

  Still, the cadence of the steps refused to conjure the image of Pisces running, long black braids flying behind her.

  Even away from the Ghost, the rules of the ship still applied. Number one: Never be seen. Caledonia stilled her breathing, adjusted her feet, and disentangled herself from the bag full of fruit. She would be ready to run. She would be ready to fight.

  The steps grew louder and slower. A dark figure appeared: tall, muscled, male. Instead of racing past as Caledonia hoped he would, the boy stopped a few feet from her hiding place. His skin was suntanned and slick with sweat, his vest and pants lined with guns and clips of ammo. His bicep was marked by a single scarred line that even in the dark was bright orange, saturated with the Silt in his blood. He was a Bullet, a soldier from Aric Athair’s army.

  Aric conscripted children, dismantling families in order to build his empire. Rogue families like Caledonia’s had taken to the water rather than see their children stolen and transformed into soldiers. But because they’d run, if they were ever captured, none would be spared. Not even the children. People more readily offered their children up as payment when they knew the only alternative was death for all.

  This Bullet couldn’t be much older than Caledonia, seventeen at the most, but the mark on his bicep meant he’d already killed in service to Aric.

  She smelled the salt of his sweat and the sharp pinch of gunpowder and something unrecognizable and sweet. Caledonia shivered.

  The boy didn’t look at her, didn’t seem to be aware she crouched so near, her fingers inching her pistol from its holster. Instead, he began to do exactly what she’d been doing. He bent down and collected fruit.

  She’d never seen a Bullet this close; her parents did their best to keep the Ghost as far from Aric’s fleet as possible. Over the years they’d outrun dozens of Bullet ships and collected as many families from other ships and outlying settlements, all while staying out of sight.

  Rule number two: Shoot first.

  Her pistol was in her hand, finger curled around the trigger. When the boy turned his back and kneeled to inspect a coconut, Caledonia had the perfect advantage. She would only need one bullet.

  She raised her pistol and stepped quietly out of her hiding place.

  The boy froze, dropping the coconut as he raised his hands. “Whoever you are, you have me,” he said.

  Caledonia didn’t respond, her throat tight as she considered pulling the trigger.

  “Would it make a difference if I asked you not to shoot?” the boy asked, face forward and eyes on the ocean. “If I begged for mercy?”

  “Killing you would be a mercy,” she told the Bullet.

  “Maybe so,” he said, voice at once piteous and resigned. “At least, if you’re going to kill me, let me see your face?”

  Caledonia’s pulse quickened. There was no time for this. Where there was one Bullet, there were a dozen or more. She needed to find Pisces and get back to the boat, and she needed to do it now. Shoot, her mother’s voice urged, but this was one rule Caledonia had never had to follow.

  Sensing her hesitation, the boy shifted on his knees, spinning to fac
e her. His hands remained steady in the air, but now he watched her.

  Alarmed, Caledonia took an involuntary step back. “Move again and I’ll shoot.” She raised her aim to his head.

  He nodded, star-pale eyes fixed on the barrel of her pistol. He had a long face with a jaw that looked sharp enough to be a weapon on its own. Blond hair, thick with sea wind and salt, framed his forehead like a crown. One ear stuck out a little farther than the other, but the effect was endearing. She counted two guns strapped to each of his thighs, which likely meant there were at least two others she couldn’t see. For the moment, she was the one in power, but she knew just how quickly that might change.

  “At least if I’m to die, it’ll be at the hands of someone lovely.” His eyes charted a slow course across her face.

  Warmth crept into Caledonia’s cheeks. “Where’s your crew? Your clip?”

  “I—Can I point?” When Caledonia nodded, he did, back in the direction he’d come from. “Ship’s anchored off the northern tip of the island. Stopped for food.”

  “One ship?” Caledonia asked.

  “One ship,” he answered. “We were headed to the Net and moored here for the night. It’s a bad moon for traveling.”

  He could be lying—he was probably lying—but this far from the Holster it could also be the truth. One ship on the opposite side of the island was survivable. As long as she and Pisces returned to the Ghost quickly.

  But something had to be done about this Bullet.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  The boy seemed to grow smaller under the weight of that question. “What does it matter if you’re going to kill me?”

  “It doesn’t.” Caledonia’s finger found the trigger again, and again it stuck there.

  A sad smile twisted his lips. “Lir. I’m called Lir. And I expect you’ll be the last to know it.”

  He was so ready to die, and so young. Was he young enough to be saved? They said it didn’t take long for the children Aric took to succumb to the dreamy pull of Silt. Addiction made Bullets both loyal and mean. But they also said an encounter with a Bullet always, always ended in one of two ways: either you died, or he did.