Cepheus led the way to a windowed chamber atop the megaship with clear views in all directions. What she saw from that perch made Caledonia’s breath catch in her lungs. There was her fleet, dotting the water before her, nineteen beautiful ships. To the west, the sun was dipping low, throwing the shuffling islands of the Bone Mouth into extreme divisions of light and shadow. They bowed out in two directions, little islands reaching toward each other like the disjointed bones of a hand. In the center, the water was clear and inviting, a mouth opened wide.

In the opposite direction, sunset ignited the Net in flashes of punishing yellow and orange. It was like a strip of fire pointing due east, running all the way to the peninsula that housed the Holster.

Caledonia turned her eyes south to a point a few miles away that could only be the Silt Rig. It glimmered like a beacon against the darkening sea, roughly the size of an Assault Ship, a perfectly attainable target. If she could get any part of her fleet past the Net, she could destroy it. Of course, getting past the Net was always the problem.

Tassos moved in front of her, blotting out her view of the rig with his chest. “Comm’s this way.”

“Something out there you don’t want me to see?” Caledonia feigned innocence.

Tassos paused, a small smirk punching in one side of this face. “You mean the rig? You can look as long as you like.” He stepped aside, hooking one arm around her neck as he was too fond of doing. “I’m certain you’re making a plan to destroy it. Or, trying to. Go ahead!”

He released her just as suddenly as he’d grabbed her. Caledonia only shrugged, resisting the urge to back away.

“There will be time for that,” she promised.

“Oh, I’m certain there will,” Tassos responded, that wild grin returning to his face. “But trust me, anyone who wants to take that rig from me will die trying.”

He said it with such certainty that Caledonia understood it to be true. He wasn’t as clever as Lir, but he was every bit as stubborn, every bit as ambitious. Something more than the Net was protecting that rig. She just couldn’t see whatever it was.

Tassos swept forward again, scooping up the receiver and fiddling with the dials on the panel before handing it to Caledonia. “Let’s get on with our business and one day—soon—you and I will dance.”

Just over Tassos’s shoulder, Caledonia caught the way Cepheus tried and failed to cover a disapproving frown with a quick duck of her head. But whether it had been for her or for Tassos, Caledonia wasn’t sure.

“Open frequency. And recording,” the Bullet stationed at the comm announced.