“How many ships does Lir have?” Caledonia asked. “Last count we had was near two hundred.”

“He did have that many and he brought them all to my doorstep!” Tassos shouted, a wild glint in his eyes.

“You held off two hundred ships?” Caledonia asked, disbelieving.

“Didn’t have to. Not for long.” Tassos smirked. Cocky and amused. “Because I have something he wants almost as much as he wants me dead.”

“The rig?” Caledonia asked.

“No.” Tassos rose to his full height, looming over her with an excited smile. “His brother Donnally.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The storm that rose in Caledonia’s ears was like no other.

She felt her body turning to vapor, her mind to wind, her blood to rushing rain. There was nothing connecting her to the world except the song of Donnally’s name tossed on the turbulent waves of her mind.

Then she felt Pisces tapping a foot against hers. Heard Oran saying something in unforgiving tones. Saw the satisfied twist of Tassos’s lips.

“I want to see him.” Her voice vibrated in her chest though it sounded muffled to her ears.

Everyone looked to Tassos. He grinned, happy to cause pain simply because he could.

“I want to see him, now,” she repeated. “Or we take our ships and inform Lir that you’re at the end of your Silt and let him return with his entire fleet.”

Tassos didn’t laugh, but his smile suggested that he believed her about as much as respected her. Still, he shrugged. “Cepheus.”

The woman moved immediately toward the hatch, and whether or not Caledonia was supposed to follow, that’s exactly what she did. Behind her, she heard shuffling and the hatch closing again, then fingers caught hers and gave a light squeeze. Pisces.

She pinched the skin on the inside of Caledonia’s wrist, forcing Caledonia to focus on her for a split second. “I’m coming with you.”

Caledonia nodded. Her heart was a hammer inside her chest, her lungs were tight, her skin prickled with sweat, but soon, she would see Donnally.

Cepheus led them through corridors lined with dull-eyed Bullets and then into a sparsely populated section of the megaship where the air was cool and carried a metallic taste that was almost electric. Caledonia could barely focus on the ship as they passed through it, could barely mark where they turned or how many hatches they passed through. Finally, they came to the hold. The large room contained rows and rows of barred cells, many of which were occupied. Though she barely spared the prisoners a glance as she passed, she could hear them; shouting or moaning or begging for something to drink.

Caledonia tried to tune them out, but with each cry, she imagined her brother—injured, abused, alone—and her lungs constricted a little more.