“Please, just … just let me … ”
I feel like my bones have been inverted. I’ve been broken, and everything’s been pieced back together wrong. When I step off this boat and onto Bao’s back, I’ll be completely free. Once the pursuit is disabled, I can go with them. I can expose Fabian Murphy for the traitor he is. I can escape the Minnow and Santa Elena and all of the blood and death I was supposed to unleash. I wanted to get away from that.
My fingers fumble over the armpieces, locking them into place around my biceps. I slide the Otachi onto my forearms, cinching my fingers in the controls. With a deep breath, I point them out across the sea and fire the homing signal. The noise of the call rattles the deck, and somewhere off in the deep, Bao’s reply thunders in return.
As she finishes up with my legs, Swift takes a step back to admire her handiwork. “You look like a fucking knight,” she says, glowing with pride as a smile breaks over her face.
Relief rushes through me. At least here at the end, I get to see her happy one last time.
There’s one piece left. Swift lifts the helmet off the counter and hands me my earpiece. I slip the little device in, and she sets the helmet over my head. “Jesus, cheer up. You’re going home, just like you want,” she grumbles.
But that’s not what I want, not at all. Everything I want, everything I have left, is standing right in front of me, and I’m about to leave her behind.
The sea opens up beneath the deck as Bao’s head crests out of the water. He lets his jaw hang open, putting the nubby spikes that line his mouth on display. His rank breath washes out over us. I take a hesitant step away from Swift, toward the monster I’ve raised. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do, so I flash the beacon again, and Bao slides his beak onto the trainer deck. His head is so massive that it barely fits in the rear port, and I think back to the days when he was small enough to swim in the makeshift pool. He’s come so far.
I’ve come even farther.
“Cas?”
I pause, my heart thundering in my chest as I turn to face her, as I meet that red-rimmed gaze that’s boring into me.
“There’s line-hooks in the belt. They’ll anchor you.”
Oh.
“And … ” She trails off, shrugging, and I feel the pressure of saying goodbye crash down on my shoulders.
There are only two words I need to say. Four syllables. I can feel them in my throat, and I’m terrified of what could happen if I let them loose. But three months on this ship have robbed me of the connection between my fear and my actions, and last chances have a funny way of shaking up your priorities.
“Equal footing?” I breathe, because here and now is as free as I’m ever going to be.
“Equal footing.”
I don’t know who moves first. We lunge for each other. The feet between us collapse into nothing and my hands wind in that stupid, stupid hair as her arms ensnare my waist and her lips come crashing over mine. I want hours, I want weeks, I want more than these bare seconds to be free like this. She holds me so tightly that my armor warps under her grip, and I kiss her with everything I have left. There’s no time for hesitation, no time for uncertainty.
There’s just me and her, and the rest of it falls away.
Swift groans, the noise vibrating against my chest as she sinks against me, her lips urging mine open with all of the hunger I’ve seen inside her, all of the need and impatience that I’ve watched her battle and been unable to comfort. But now I can. Now I surge up on my tiptoes and grin against the soft curves of her mouth as I let one hand slide down to cradle her jaw, to bring her chasing after me.
When we break apart, she buries her nose in the crook of my neck and I smooth down her unkempt hair, and together we stay like that: giddy, out of breath, and scared to pieces of what comes next.
It’s only when Bao tosses his head impatiently, causing the whole deck to lurch, that we snap out of it. I pull myself out of Swift’s grip and move to his eye, running my fingertips over one of the ridges that crests it, and the touch seems to quiet him. When I glance back at Swift, I catch her swiping her hand over her cheek.
“I should probably … ” I start.
“Captain’ll be looking for me,” she says. “And you need to get in the water, stat.”
I can feel the void widening between us already, the distance that separates us growing with every passing second, and I want nothing more than to run back to her side. But there’s a job to do here, one that both our lives are staked on. I crimp my fingers between Bao’s keratin plates and slot one of my boots on top of the spikes that line his jaw.
I’m just about to haul myself up when her hand comes down on my shoulder, twisting me away from my beast and back to face her. Swift presses her forehead against the helmet that shields mine, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as she whispers, “It’s not goodbye until you’re out of sight.”
And then, just like that, she turns and sprints off the trainer deck before I can get a word in.
I push off the ground and scramble onto Bao’s head, cursing pirate girls under my breath as he bucks underneath my weight and pulls back out of the rear port. I check the respirator around my neck and slip my goggles up over my eyes.
The piece in my ear crackles on. “So now that that’s over with … ”
Varma.
“You, uh … you heard that, then,” I say just before setting the respirator in my teeth.
“Funny thing about these comms—they pick up anything that shakes your bones. You’re lucky the captain put me in charge of your line,” he says, and I can feel the laughter he’s suppressing. I clench my jaw. As we slide away from the ship, Bao rears, lifting his head until we’re level with the main deck.
Santa Elena stands there, dressed to the nines in her own elegant, bulletproof armor. Her chin lifts, a vicious grin spreading across her face as she watches her handiwork rise up to meet her. The sunset blazes at her back, casting her long shadow out to touch us, as if marking us as inevitably, unquestionably hers.
And though part of me is certain that after tonight, we’ll be free of the Minnow at last, another part knows that this boat will last with me to the end of my days.
“Inbound is ten minutes out. Splinters away at my mark,” the all-call announces, and here atop Bao’s back, I finally have the vantage point I need, the one that lets me see right into the navigation tower where Lemon bends over a microphone.
The white hulls snap off the sides of the Minnow, and a swell of nostalgia sings through me. Bao’s upper body plunges back down toward the water; my stomach swoops as I crouch, winding my fingertips in his plates. His blowholes heave beneath me, drawing a quick breath before he submerges. The waters churn around us, and I fight to keep my hands rooted when they crash over me.
“Cas, you there?” Varma’s voice mutters in my ear. “Captain wants you to keep him submerged until she says otherwise. We’ll draw them in, then you do the rest.” He says it as if it’ll be easy.
“Got it,” I reply around the respirator. The comm’s smart enough to fill in the consonants where the piece in my mouth has stolen them. I unspool a line-hook from my belt and drive it into Bao’s plating, praying that the barbs will hold fast when the time comes. Once I’m secured to his back, I turn the Otachi to the dive command and blaze them out.