I spring out of bed and struggle into my wetsuit as fast as I can. My heart aches inside my chest as I sprint for the trainer deck. I’ve been hearing Reckoner noises all my life, but never like this. This isn’t a groan of discomfort, a roar of fury. No, this is a shriek of pure agony.
I burst onto the trainer deck and snap on the LED beacon. It flashes her homing signal into the dark, and immediately she surfaces, her shadow looming against the glow on the horizon. I grab a spotlight and shine it on her as she approaches.
A wave of nausea threatens to overtake me, and I have to fight to keep the spotlight pointed at her as she draws near.
Durga is bleeding all over. The sickening stench of her blood washes over me as if it clots the air. Sores dot her back, some of them burst and ragged-looking, and I realize with a jolt that several of her keratin plates have fallen off. She groans again, the noise causing the deck underneath me to shudder, and I watch, horrified, as the plate protecting the top of her head slides forward, pulling free with a meaty snap. It plunges into the NeoPacific, sending up a spray of salty, gory water in its wake.
I know I should call Mom and Dad immediately, but I can’t leave her side when she’s like this. “It’s gonna be okay, girl,” I call out to her. It’s a lie.
“Miss Leung!” A deckhand stumbles out onto the trainer deck, his uniform askew. “Carriel wants to know what’s going on.”
My lips struggle to find words that aren’t there. Nothing in my training has prepared me for this. This voyage was supposed to be effortless. Easy. And now Durga is dying, and I can’t do anything to stop it. “I … ” I start, but can’t finish. She’s hurting so much. The water that surrounds her is clouded with blood, and I don’t have the tools to put her out of her misery.
The ship’s all-call crackles on. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Captain Carriel says, a slight tremor in his gravely voice.
No.
“Our radar has picked up a pirate vessel heading our way.”
Not now.
“We ask that you please stay calm and remain inside your cabins until an all-clear is given. Locks will be engaging on the doors in five minutes.”
Any time but now.
“In the meantime, the ship’s companion will see to the threat.”
A chill starts at the base of my spine and works its way up until I feel like my brain’s been plunged into ice water. Durga can’t fight. Not like this. I spin, running my hands through my hair as I scan the trainer deck for something, anything to end her suffering. But Reckoners were made to be nigh impossible to kill, and there’s no humane way of ending the life of a beast this size.
I’m suddenly acutely aware of the pill in the collar of my wetsuit.
When I turn back to Durga, they’re on the horizon.
The boat comes screaming in from the East, the rising sun at its back as it swings wide around the Nereid. It carves the water like a butcher’s knife and looks like it’s been cobbled together from bits of yachts and warships, the unholy bastard of some pirate colony junkyard. Its upper decks bristle with weaponry.
I’ve let everyone on this boat down. Without Durga, we’re dead in the water against this sort of artillery. We’ll be boarded, looted, and killed, and it’s all my fault.
Which is what I’m still stuck on when Durga wheels, swinging her snout toward the pirate ship. Her blowholes flare, her tail thrashes, and she launches herself toward the boat, the sea churning around her.
Shit.
She’s not strong enough to do this, but she also can’t suppress the instinct ingrained in her. Durga is bonded to the Nereid. Reckoner imprinting behavior ties them to their companion ships, and she’ll fight to the death to protect hers. But in her condition, there’s no way she’ll succeed. She’s already dying. It’ll only be more painful if the pirates have a say in it.
And she’s only going to piss them off more. She’s going to give them a reason to kill every soul aboard this ship if she goes after them.
I’ve got to stop her. I’ve got to do something.
I hoist the homing beacon onto my back and take off, back down the ship’s tunnels, just as the gunfire starts. The deckhand runs after me, but I tune out the words he’s yelling—I can’t afford to think about anything but drawing Durga back to the ship. An explosion rocks the back of the Nereid and the floor lurches beneath my feet as the engines stop. We’re dead in the water.
I round a corner and haul open a hatch, stumbling out onto the lowest deck on the ship where a foldout platform lies waiting. I yank the lever that extends it and leap on as the platform unfurls, landing on the ocean’s surface with a wet slap. It rolls out in front of me, nearly fifty feet in length, and I sprint for the end of it, my fingers fumbling on the homing beacon as I go.
The LEDs snap on, nearly blinding me, and I slip, falling flat on my ass. I hold the beacon up, point it at Durga, and scream as loud as my lungs will allow, my voice harmonizing with the hum of her signal.
The pirate ship has already outmaneuvered her and docked with us, the crew swarming the Nereid like flies on a corpse. Durga’s attention flickers to me, and she draws up short. The Reckoner shakes her head, letting out a deafening roar as she wavers between heeding my call and doing the very thing she was bred to do.
Maybe it’s my familiarity, maybe it’s just a merit of her training, but Durga turns again and surges for the platform, her beak pointed squarely at the homing beacon.
“That’s right,” I rasp, dropping to my knees. “Good girl. Come here. It’s okay. It’s all going to be over soon.”
Then the pirate ship opens fire.
They aim for her eyes. The bullets riddle Durga, and blood sprays from her already-ragged flesh. She roars again, the sound rippling the ocean’s surface, and turns on the ship. Smoke from the artillery pours out over the waves until all I can see is her looming shadow and the outline of the Nereid. Somewhere in the haze, her beak snaps shut, the sound rolling over the ocean like a thunderclap. I stumble back down the platform, still holding the beacon high, my eyes running. I can’t tell if it’s the smoke burning my eyes, or if I’m just crying.
A wave lifts the platform, knocking my feet out from under me, and I plunge into the water. My hold on the homing beacon slips, and it sinks away into the vast dark of the ocean below. Lungs burning, I kick for the surface and come up clinging to the platform. I choke in a breath as I feel the water around me thicken.
A shadow crosses me. Someone has strode out onto the platform, a wide-brimmed hat shading her features and a rocket launcher hoisted over her shoulder. She takes aim at Durga, braces herself, and squeezes the trigger. The whole platform vibrates from the recoil and I almost lose my grip.
The rocket explodes into Durga’s side. She screams, her leathery skin rippling as she wheels to face the pirate, who only frowns, takes aim, and shoots again.
I haul myself out of the water and lunge for her, but a pair of arms grabs me from behind and holds me back. The second rocket strikes Durga’s shoulder, taking out a chunk of flesh so large that her foreleg goes limp instantly. I struggle against my captor, but it’s no use. I’m not a fighter.
Durga’s the fighter, and she lunges for the woman with the rocket launcher even as a third shell barrels into her chest, right where her keratin plates should be. The sickening stench of Reckoner blood and decaying flesh fills the air with an increasing inevitability, overpowering the smoke of the guns.
The fourth rocket hits her head.
And …
I’m five years old and sharing a kiddie pool with a newly hatched Reckoner pup. I’m eight, standing on her back for the first time. I’m thirteen, and the only refuge from my first breakup is in floating alongside her, holding onto the ridge above her eye where my hand fits perfectly.
I’m seventeen years old, and I can do nothing but watch as Durga’s thick blood paints the sea.