Steel Tide Read online

  PRAISE FOR

  “One of the most spell-binding adventures of the year. This is female piracy at its best.”—SAN FRANCISCO CHRONICLE

  “The best kind of fantasy. . . . Impossible to put down.”—PASTE

  “This is Mad Max by way of Davy Jones, a high-energy, breathless adventure.”—BOOKLIST

  “The pace of the book is fast and relentless, and the action sequences tense and believable, but the best moments are the ones in which the female relationships shine.”—NPR

  “Absolutely enthralling. Seafire is a relentless adventure about friendship and found family, trust and betrayal, and a vow for vengeance as unstoppable as the sea.” —HEIDI HEILIG, author of THE GIRL FROM EVERYWHERE and THE SHIP BEYOND TIME

  “Parker has crafted a thrilling, empowering tale of doing what is right, not what is easy. Any reader who’s dreamed of the high seas, adventure, and freedom will be clamoring to join the crew of the Mors Navis. An emotional and pulse-pounding read.” —TESS SHARPE, author of FAR FROM YOU and BARBED WIRE HEART

  “A stunning and powerful book about choosing to fight in the face of vicious odds. Seafire will stay with you long after you finish reading.”—BRENDAN REICHS, New York Times bestselling author of NEMESIS

  “A brilliant story that shows the strength and bravery of girls against the world. Natalie C. Parker has given me a book I wish I’d had when I was younger.” —ZORAIDA CÓRDOVA, award-winning author of the BROOKLYN BRUJAS series

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  Produced by Alloy Entertainment 30 Hudson Yards, 22nd floor New York, NY 10001

  First published in the United States of America by Razorbill, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by Alloy Entertainment and Natalie C. Parker

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  RAZORBILL & colophon is a registered trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

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  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Names: Parker, Natalie C., author.

  Title: Steel tide / by Natalie C. Parker.

  Description: New York, NY : Razorbill, 2019. | “A Seafire novel.” | Summary: Rescued by the Blades, a nomadic crew hiding from Aric Athair, Caledonia seeks their help to find the Mors Navis and her sisters, defeat Aric’s fleet, and take back the Bullet seas.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019016804 | ISBN 9780451478832 (hardback)

  Subjects: | CYAC: Ship captains—Fiction. | Sex role–Fiction. | Seafaring life–Fiction. | Adventure and adventurers–Fiction.

  Classification: LCC PZ7.P2275 Ste 2019 | DDC [Fic]–dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019016804

  Ebook ISBN 9780451478856

  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

  For Sean & Maureen

  and

  Travis & Carly,

  my siblings before the law had anything to do with it

  CONTENTS

  Praise for Seafire

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Before

  Chapter One

  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

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  BEFORE

  The stars felt close tonight. From his place cradled in the nest, far up the mainmast on a night as dark as this one, Donnally felt they were especially near, almost within reach. He loved that illusive, unsettling feeling of suspension. If he held still, breathed just right, he could convince his mind that it was as possible to sink upward into the sky as it was to slip into the sea. For a split second, his body was as light as air, and the entire universe was at his fingertips. When he reached up to pluck a single star from the glittering array, the illusion broke. In a flash of disorienting dizziness, he was part of the earth again, with feet firmly planted on the floor of the nest and head tipped up.

  “Would you quit picking at the sky?” Ares slumped against one side of the protective bowl that encircled them both, bored and tired. The combination made him irritable. Like his older sister, he was destined to be tall with broad shoulders and long arms. His skin was the same sunny brown as Pisces’s, and his hair was long and black.

  “Why does it bother you?” Donnally asked, tipping his head backward over the lip of the nest so that the ocean became the sky.

  He heard Ares sigh and crack his knuckles. The truth was it probably didn’t bother him. What bothered him was being awake at this hour and the way the nest tipped back and forth like a pendulum. At twelve turns each, the boys had been friends long enough for Donnally to recognize when Ares’s irritation was an arrow in need of a target. And he’d been the target frequently enough to know he’d rather avoid it, so when Ares didn’t answer, Donnally didn’t press.

  They’d been posted as lookout for nearly an hour, long enough for Caledonia and Pisces to reach the nearby island called the Gem and start foraging, but not quite long enough to expect them to return a
nytime soon. Donnally leaned even farther over the edge of the nest, letting his arms hook around the railing and the blood rush to his head. The ocean was all gentle black chop. It lapped against the hull of the Ghost as the tide swept in, pushing them back and forth.

  Suddenly, Donnally felt a foot hook beneath his own and kick upward. The force lifted his whole body, and he began to slip over the edge of the basket. He shrieked, arms flailing. Then hands gripped his knees and tugged him right back into the nest, where Ares was hooting with laughter.

  “You know you’re strapped in, right? You can’t actually fall?” Ares laughed all the harder, bending over to brace his hands against his knees.

  Donnally didn’t find it funny in the least. He lunged for Ares, aiming a fist for his face. But Ares was taller and stronger. He deflected Donnally’s blow easily, snatching the arm of his gray jacket and whipping it off him in one smooth motion. The jacket flew into the air and fluttered toward the ground, where it landed in a heap.

  Now Donnally was mad. He felt his temper burning in his cheeks and in the curl of his fists. He roared and dove for Ares again.

  “Boys!” The voice belonged to Donnally’s dad, and it stopped them dead in their tracks. They’d both be in trouble for this. It didn’t matter that Ares had started it. There was no roughhousing in the nest. “Sounds like you need something else to keep you occupied.”

  Donnally peered over the edge, sure to keep a firm grip on the railing this time. He spotted his dad standing near the port rail, chin tipped up to watch the boys, a gray coat pulled over his shoulders.

  “Found your coat,” he called to Donnally.

  Ares laughed again while Donnally fumed. “Thanks.”

  They were definitely in trouble. Donnally could see it in his father’s expression. They were going to be on kitchen duty for weeks, peeling and canning whatever fruits and vegetables the girls brought back, forced to endure Cook Orr’s protracted stories about the way things used to be. It was going to be hot and boring and tedious, and it was all Ares’s fault.

  “Hey,” Ares said, voice capped with humor. “Donnally, I’d never let you fall. I was just playing.”

  Donnally was preemptively plotting his revenge when three gunshots pierced the night sky.

  The entire ship went still as a stone. Donnally met Ares’s eyes for one brief second, then the two of them turned to search the waters around the Gem. They looked for anything—light, movement, their sisters—but there was nothing for them to find.

  On the deck below, the crew vaulted into silent action. They moved in all directions, readying the ship for sail. The laundry lines came down, the goats were taken below, the box gardens were carted away, and it was all done without a word, every single command given without making a sound. It was a familiar sight. Rhona ran this drill regularly, kept the ship parts seamlessly oiled and cushioned. They would be ready to go in moments.

  The stretch of ocean between the Ghost and the Gem gave no indication of the little boat that carried Caledonia and Pisces. Donnally watched the choreography unfolding below him in a sort of suspension, stuck between the comfort of routine and the fear of knowing this time it was real. They were preparing to flee.

  Ares gripped Donnally’s shoulder, alarm making his eyes wide. He whispered, “We won’t leave them, will we?”

  Donnally wanted to deny it, but there was a coil of dread in his stomach, writhing like a snake. “Never be seen,” he said, citing the first rule of the ship.

  The strength leached out of Ares’s grasp. He looked horrified and then suddenly angry. “No.”

  Before Donnally could stop him, Ares had unsnapped his harness and climbed out of the nest. Without taking the time to hook on to the safety line, he began to climb down. Donnally followed. He detached his own harness and moved down the mainmast as quickly as his shaking hands would allow.

  They reached the deck to find their world unraveling. Their parents stood near the bridge with their shoulders together, engaged in tense conversation.

  The boys made straight for them, pushing into the circle just in time to hear Ares’s mother say, “And what if it’s nothing? What if they fired at an animal and we abandon them?”

  “If that’s the case, they’ll survive two days.” Rhona Styx stood with her arms crossed and a rifle slung over her shoulder. “I don’t like this any better than you do, Agnes, but our girls know what they’re doing. They’ll wait for us.”

  “But we should be the ones waiting for them.” Agnes planted her hands on the round curve of her hips.

  “Boys!” Donnally’s father cried in alarm. “Who’s on watch?”

  Whatever happened on Donnally’s face was answer enough. His father cursed and raced toward the mainmast, but it wasn’t soon enough.

  “Captain,” a young man named Bandi called from the bridge tower. “We’ve got trouble. An assault ship. They’re close, and they’re on course to box us in.”

  “Damn.” Rhona’s jaw fixed in place as she swiveled to search the ocean.

  Each and every time the Ghost had encountered a Bullet ship, they’d taken a single course of action: run. While Donnally was too young to remember any of their more narrow escapes, he’d been raised to believe that running was the only way to ensure they survived.

  Right now, running was the furthest thing from his mind.

  All he could think about was his sister. Had she fired those shots? Or had those shots been fired at her?

  Would he ever see her again?

  “Rhona?” Donnally’s father asked, coming to stand at her side. “Captain, your orders?”

  Rhona’s eyes fell on Donnally. Her gaze was as powerful as the sun, and he felt warmed and emboldened at the same time. He feared for his sister almost more than he could stand, but he smiled for his mother, to show her he was afraid and also brave.

  Rhona nodded and swallowed hard. “I’m afraid we have no choice,” she said. “Weigh the anchor and grab your guns. We’re going to fight.”

  In the wake of those words, the ship seemed to transform. Commands were shouted in all directions, the anchor clanked in its channel, even the sea seemed to slap at the hull with more vigor than just a moment ago. Rhona swept forward, gathering her son into her arms and holding him tightly. She kissed his head and released him, saying, “Do as your father says. I love you, my brave boy.”

  “I love you, too,” Donnally said, and then she was gone, climbing toward the bridge and disappearing inside it.

  “Let’s move.” Donnally’s father caught his hand and pulled him toward the quarterdeck, where the rest of the children were being herded by a few tight-mouthed adults. Agnes was there, helping each of them over the side railing and into the remaining bow boat on the water below.

  “I don’t want to go,” Donnally protested, fear spiking through him. “I want to stay with you.”

  But Donnally’s father pulled him along, stopping only when they reached the railing. “You must go. We’ll come back for you, but for now, you need to get as far from this ship as you can. Head for the Gem. Find your sister.”

  In the distance, a deathly crooning pushed through the air, growing closer and louder. The crew of the Ghost had lost all pretense of quiet now. They’d become a different kind of machine right before Donnally’s eyes, one that sounded like bullets snapping into chambers.

  “Tagg!” called Agnes. “We’re out of time.”

  Suddenly, Donnally was pressed against his father’s chest. “Find your sister,” he repeated, squeezing the boy more tightly than ever before. “Find your sister and live.”

  Before he knew it, Donnally was over the side of the ship and tucked into the boat waiting below. There were eight children already aboard. Astra, Derry, Lucero, and Jam sat silently, their eyes pinned to the hull of the Ghost, while the others searched the darkness for the approaching ship. Ares and Lucero, oldest and s
trongest of the small group, took up oars, and soon their small boat was cutting a shallow path through the water, heading for the same small island as Caledonia and Pisces.

  For a few precious moments, there was nothing but that steady wail of the ghost funnel and Astra’s sniffles. Time felt like a vise around their little vessel. Donnally kept his eyes on the dark outline of the island just ahead, wishing they could stay locked in this moment indefinitely. Then, a flare of light. The terrible cry turned into a deafening roar.

  Donnally couldn’t help himself. He turned to watch as the Bullet ship closed in on the Ghost.

  Red dripped down the nose of the Bullet ship like a bloody gash. Men swung in harnesses, armed with magnetic bombs and roaring with fury. Spikes studded the ship’s perimeter like thorns, bodies in many stages of decay impaled on each one.

  Every muscle in Donnally’s body clenched. The little boat was moving faster now, assisted by the wake of the Bullet ship. Behind him, Donnally could hear Ares calling a rhythm to Lucero, keeping their oars synchronized.

  In the next minute, the Ghost was in flames, and the children knew speed would not save them.

  There was a small but bright part of Donnally’s mind that was as calm and distant as a star. It was the part of him that marveled at how quickly the Bullet ship subdued the Ghost. The seeming chaos of their fury was only an illusion. In reality, they were an expertly conducted choir, striking the deadliest of notes at precisely the right moment. After their magnetic bombs weakened the Ghost and forced half the crew belowdecks, the attacking Bullets easily bested those who remained topside. Donnally watched the battle unfurl with sense and strategy, and slowly, his body began to still.

  “Stroke!” cried Ares.

  But Lucero’s oar slowed. One thing Bullets knew how to do was find running children, and a bow boat was already in the water, racing toward them.

  “Stroke!” Ares cried again, panic making his voice thin. The approaching Bullets pulled alongside, and still Ares kept rowing. He didn’t stop until the Bullets circled them twice, then fired a single shot into the nose of the small boat.