Donnally’s throat plunged as he understood her meaning. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he took another step into the room, and closed the door.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

“Captain.” Pisces’s urgent whisper woke Caledonia in an instant. She surged out of bed, gasping as the pain in her ribs surged with her.

“Hell,” she growled.

“What’s wrong?” Oran stirred beside her, already halfway to his feet.

Pisces scooped up Oran’s pants and tossed them to his waiting hands. “Ennick’s back.”

That had Caledonia on her feet, dressing as fast as her wounds would allow. “Has he said anything?”

“He’s waiting for you,” Pisces answered.

Caledonia nodded as she hurriedly pulled her shirt over her head and was rewarded with bright stabs of pain. She took a deep breath, then stopped rushing. She tucked her shirt into her pants, took her time lacing up her boots, and braided her hair back as she would any morning.

Oran took his cue from her and resumed getting ready at a regular pace. This wasn’t a call to battle.

“Right,” Caledonia said when she was ready. “Let’s go see what he has to say.”

They left the barracks as the first hint of dawn strained the darkest edges of night. One benefit of having chosen the Ready Racks, as Donnally had called them, was that they put Caledonia mere steps from the wharf. The command crew gathered in the office that must have once belonged to the harbormaster. Tin was already there when Caledonia arrived, working with Far to set out a loaf of fresh bread along with a nut spread, preserved sour cherries, and a pot of teaco.

Sledge and Pine were the last to appear. They rolled in looking disheveled. Sledge’s long hair was out of its braid and floated behind him like a shadow, while Pine’s shirt was rumpled and untucked, his eyes still narrow with sleep.

Ennick waited quietly at the far end of the table. His weathered face was streaked with ash and blood and his salt-and-pepper hair was stiff with salt. He’d only been gone for two days, but the man hadn’t stopped moving since the battle, and exhaustion showed in the wide press of his eyes.

“Welcome back,” Caledonia announced when they’d pulled chairs up to the slender metal table that ran down the center of the room. “Report.”

“Captain.” Ennick offered a short bow to Caledonia. “I’m afraid that I’m here to report Lir has taken the Net.”

Silence descended on the room like a cloud leaving a chill in the air that hadn’t been there before.

“Bloat fish,” Pine muttered into the dense quiet.

“But he sailed north. To Slipmark.” The protest in Pisces’s voice was weak.

“At first,” Ennick answered with a nod. “But he doubled back and sailed for the Net instead.”

“How many ships did it cost him?” Caledonia asked.