CHAPTER THIRTEEN

They sailed smoothly between the high walls of the canals. Once, these waters had seemed as chaotic and impenetrable as Cloudbreak’s twisting pathways. Now they were as familiar as the workings of this ship.

Joining Nettle on the bridge, Caledonia trained her eyes on the channels that opened and closed before them. The Luminous Wake was broad where their first ship, the Mors Navis, had been sleek, which limited the paths they could take, but not so much that Caledonia had considered adopting another ship. They could have chosen from the many that had arrived in the hands of Bullets or those few sent from Hime’s people in the Drowning Lands, one more similar in heft and speed to the Mors Navis, but after having sailed into battle aboard this old sweeper, Caledonia wasn’t ready to trust another.

“Slow and steady,” she reminded Nettle. Needlessly. The girl was as skilled at the helm as Caledonia had been at her age. Possibly better. But in the dark, it was difficult to tell stone from water. If they weren’t careful, they’d gouge their belly or crush their nose.

“Captain.” Oran appeared in the doorway, one hand pressed to the frame. “I think we have a problem.” He turned to look over his shoulder, the strong line of his neck glistening with sweat.

“You think?” she asked. “Or you know?”

He turned his eyes back to her, a quiet frown pulling his brows together. “I don’t think we’re alone out here.”

No friendly ships would be sailing these canals; it was against protocol. A few yards ahead, the channel forked in two directions. The left offered them the shortest route to the western seas. But as it was the fastest way out, it was also the fastest way in.

“Nettle, change course. Go north at the fork, not west.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As they neared the fork, a growling sound joined the low rumble of their own thrusters. Nettle cursed and Oran raced onto the forward deck. The northern channel was longer, less accessible from the outside, but that didn’t mean a ship couldn’t worm its way through.

The sound could be coming from either, and Caledonia couldn’t tell the difference.

“Which one, Oran?” Caledonia called.

Nettle pulled the ship out of speed. The approaching engines grew louder, echoing off the tall walls.

Oran shook his head in frustration. “I can’t tell!”

Caledonia left the bridge and raced along the nose to study the eddies in the water. An approaching ship would stir the current. Maybe not much, but enough for Caledonia to decipher which side of the fork they were coming down and choose the other path.

“Pine!” she called over her shoulder. “I need gunners on the forward deck!”

The orders echoed behind her and still she studied the dark waters where they rushed out of the two channels, neither of which looked any different from the other.

“Both!” Oran shouted, coming instantly to her side. “Captain, they’re coming down both channels.”

For a swift and terrible second, the meaning of that sentence left Caledonia speechless. There was more than one ship. Her only way forward was blocked by incoming vessels and the Luminous Wake was far too large to turn around.

Caledonia could call the ship to a halt and they could brace for impact, but even if she succeeded in subduing the incoming ships, she would still be trapped in these canals. And that, she realized, was exactly the point. To rush her into picking one direction where she would be forced to fight head on while the other ship swept around to flank them. Neither channel was an option.

Knowing that what she was about to do was either going to get them killed or get them free, Caledonia returned to the bridge with hurried steps.

“Nettle, I need you to maintain the helm and I need you to trust me.”

“I trust you,” Nettle responded instantly.

“I am going to be your eyes. I need you to be my hands.” Satisfied by the spark of recognition that flared in the hazel rings of Nettle’s eyes, she turned to the rest of the bridge crew. “Reverse thrusters, engines to half speed.”

Alarm marked each of their faces as they understood her intentions.

“Now,” she said, voice even and deadly calm.

“Incoming!” Pine shouted seconds before the first hail of bullets sang against the hull.

“Reversing thrusters!” shouted one voice.

“Engines to half speed!” shouted another.

“I am your hands, Captain,” Nettle said, standing close enough that Caledonia could hear the tremor on her breath.

Two Bullet ships roared out of the channels, guns firing and lights flaring now that they’d spotted their prey. They were smaller, faster, lighter, and as the Luminous Wake reversed and gained speed, the Bullets gave chase with vicious glee.

Caledonia turned her eyes away and studied the channel now rushing up behind them. She stood with her shoulder to Nettle’s, ready to direct her hands.

“Steady,” she said to Nettle. “Now two degrees port.”

Nettle responded by turning the ship exactly as Caledonia requested. The Luminous Wake soared down the center of the canal, and a fresh round of bullets pierced her nose.

“Engines to three-quarter speed,” Caledonia ordered. “Nettle, one degree port. Good. Now . . . two starboard.”

The walls of the canal blurred in Caledonia’s peripheral vision. Nettle stared straight ahead, her grip tight against the wheel, her lips set in a steely line as she reacted to Caledonia’s commands as seamlessly as if they were her own. But when a bullet shattered against the self-healing glass inches from her face, her fingers jerked and so did the ship. The movement sent them sharply to port, the hull scraping along the wall of the channel with a scream of metal against stone.

Half of the bridge crew hit the ground. Caledonia was thrown against the wall, her head smacking against the steel barrier. Pain burst behind her eyes, her vision flashing white as she regained her feet.

“Three degrees starboard, Nettle, NOW!”

Nettle did as she commanded, pulling the ship off the wall and back into the center of the canal.

“Cover!” Oran shouted on the forward deck just before a missile exploded against the hull.

Caledonia felt the sudden flush of warmth at her back and knew without looking that the missile had struck their nose. Judging by the stuttering vibration in the deck, it had struck them hard.

This wasn’t sustainable. But it didn’t have to be. It just had to last a little longer.

“We’re closing in,” she told Nettle, keeping her voice steady. “Just hold on.”

“Three hundred yards, Captain,” Harwell said, having rightly guessed her mind. He stood by the map table tucked in the back corner of the small room, one hand braced against the bulkhead for stability.

She nodded, her mind on the task of getting them safely through those three hundred yards. Though her crew had spent plenty of time training in the canals, including reversal maneuvers, they’d never trained at these speeds. It was hard enough to thread these narrow channels when you were pointed in the right direction.

But she had the finest crew on the seas.

“Engines to full,” she ordered.

There was collective shift in the room, a ratcheting of tension visible only in the sudden press of lips or narrowing of eyes. All except for Nettle. If anything, the order seemed to relax her, as though the final piece of this outrageous plan had fallen into place and there was nothing left to surprise her. In that way, she and Caledonia were exactly alike; they didn’t crack under pressure, they settled beneath it.

Blood slipped down from Caledonia’s temple, but the pain was gone, replaced by the rush of battle. All the uncertainty and sorrow she’d felt as they fled Cloudbreak was muted beneath the demands of the moment. Here, in the midst of battle, her mind was clear and her heart calm.

Another missile exploded against the hull, this time with enough force to send the ship skimming against the wall. Rocks rained down from high above as Caledonia issued instructions to Nettle.

“Two hundred yards, Captain!” Harwell called in a voice pulled taut.

“Be prepared for a full reverse on my mark! We need to be fast, our redirect as tight as we’ve ever done.” Caledonia looked over the familiar faces of her bridge crew, knowing they understood her intentions.

They’d made these canals their own in the past six moons. The Bullets pursuing them had the immediate advantage, but Caledonia had laid a trap for them long ago. Of course, when she’d set the charges that would bring down a small section of the walls, she hadn’t imagined approaching the site in reverse. And she hadn’t imagined needing to change directions.

“One hundred yards!” Harwell’s warning came amid a fresh hail of bullets.

“Pi,” Caledonia said without taking her eyes off the dark waters ahead.

“On it.” Pisces was already shouting for Pine as she left the bridge, readying the gunners to provide cover when the Luminous Wake made her move.

“Fifty!” Harwell called

“On my mark, Nettle,” Caledonia said quietly. At her side, Nettle was breathing evenly, her expression steely as she steered by Caledonia’s command. “Engines to half power!”

The ship slowed beneath their feet, giving the Bullets room to assault their nose with a fury of explosives. Caledonia ignored it all. Whatever damage they took, they would deal with it. Her only concern at the moment was making sure she had a crew left to do the dealing.

“Twenty-five!”

“Kill the engines! Ready on thrusters!”

Caledonia searched the dark strip of sky soaring above the channel walls. Behind her, the Bullets roared, and she heard the heavy plunk of hull puncher harpoons hitting her nose. She ground her teeth at the sound.

“Fifteen!”

The cliff wall to their right was nearly at an end. If she gave the order too soon, they’d destroy themselves. If she gave it too late, this wouldn’t work at all. She needed to give the order at precisely the right second and then trust her crew to change directions on the head of a pin, leaving no room for the Bullet ships to get in front of them.

Caledonia took a deep breath. Blood. Gunpowder. Salt.

The ship slowed beneath her feet, its nose sliding past the end of that cliff wall. “Now!” she called.

The ship growled as thrusters stopped them in their tracks and pushed their nose sharply to starboard. The maneuver exposed their port side to the Bullet ships, who wasted no time in renewing their attack.

Pine’s gunners returned fire, doing their best to provide cover as the Luminous Wake swung in a steady arc.

Then, finally, a new channel opened before them, empty and waiting.

“Engines to full!” Caledonia called.

They soared forward, leaving the two Bullet ships scrambling for speed in their wake.

Just as the two ships made to round the bend, Caledonia turned to Harwell, who stood ready with the remote in his hands. “Hit the button, Harwell.”

“Aye, Captain,” he said.

Behind them, the top of the canal walls exploded outward. Boulders crashed down on the two Bullet ships, driving their noses into the water and punching massive holes in their decks.

They vanished inside dust and rock and did not reappear.