Caledonia let their voices fill her as she raced up the com-panionway ladder to the bridge. “Nettle, take us out.”

“Yes, Captain!”

The Luminous Wake led the way. Leaving seven ships and four functional gun towers behind to guard the town. Sledge had sailed with forty-six, leaving Caledonia with thirty-seven. They were a mix of large vessels and the smaller, sleeker vessels of the Hands of the River, still not enough to match Lir’s forces, but they were what she had. If everything went according to plan, she wouldn’t need any more than this.

They sailed through the day and drove into the night. As soon as the sun vanished beneath the horizon, they extinguished the lights. Up and down the fleet, solar flags and sun pips winked out until they were nothing but shadows. Nothing but ghosts.

Caledonia stood on the command deck with her eyes on the black waters ahead, and without meaning to, she thought of her mother.

Caledonia had spent most of her life wishing she could be more like Rhona Styx. Rhona had been brave and bold and careful. She’d commanded her own ship and kept all the families aboard safe for turns by following a set of rules. Caledonia had tried to follow in Rhona’s footsteps but had been unable to avoid the part of her that wanted to fight. That same part of her had always feared that her mother would disapprove. Fighting back made you vulnerable, made you a target, and when you made yourself a target, everyone around you became one, too.

But as she sailed steadily toward the most important fight of her life, she knew without a whisper of doubt that Rhona would be proud of her. This wasn’t a fight over a single barge or a city, it wasn’t a fight for revenge. This fight was for the rig, and destroying it could change the Bullet Seas forever.

The crew took their rest in smaller shifts than usual, but there was little sleep to go around and most didn’t even try. They stayed on deck with their eyes glued to the dark, invisible horizon.

They sailed through the night, turning westward and keeping a careful distance from the Net as the faintest edge of dawn grazed the face of the sea. The crew was already in their battle stations when a sharp whistle came from the lookout and Amina announced, “Ten miles out!”

Caledonia’s heart leapt. The journey that had seemed so long suddenly felt perilously short. Everything rested on what happened next. Everything. She had to get this right.

She turned the remote trigger over and over in her hand, waiting for the moment they were close enough to enter the code.

“Five miles, Captain,” Pisces said, coming up behind her.

Caledonia spun toward the sound, letting the wind propel her steps a little faster. “Are we ready?”