Caledonia frowned. It wasn’t enough. Lir had nearly two hundred, and if they were going to sail against a fleet of that size, they needed to be gathering more than a handful of battle-ready ships every other moon. At this rate, all she’d ever manage to do was hold her perimeter.

“Hey, these are the bright bits,” Pisces admonished even as she smiled.

“You’re right.” Caledonia shrugged the glower from her face and returned the smile. “Every ship we gain is a victory.”

“I know you want to be ready now. But we’ll get there. We are getting there. And we’re a hell of a lot closer than we’ve ever been.” Pisces looked at the place where the massive barge had been this morning. A single spearing tower was all that remained of the ship and even that was slowly sinking beneath the waves. “And if Lir is taking down his own Fivesons, then he’s worried. About something.”

Caledonia doubted that Lir would ever admit to being worried about anything. Lir’s view of the world and his place in it didn’t leave room for doubt. His was a narrative of self-assurance, one that constantly repositioned him as a destined, all-powerful leader. Lir did everything out of ambition, not worry. He’d killed his brothers not out of fear, but for power.

“Maybe,” Caledonia said, always uncomfortable with how naturally she imagined Lir’s mind. “We’re going to need more of Amina’s silencers. Tell Nettle to resume course to the Braids.”

As Pisces left for the bridge, an even darker thought ghosted through Caledonia’s mind. If it was so easy for Lir to kill those he called brother, how long would it be before Donnally shared the fate of the Fivesons?

CHAPTER FIVE

As they turned northward, the sky settled into a clouded steely gray and a cold breeze tipped the waves frothy white. The last time Caledonia sailed these waters it had been under the guise of a Bullet ship headed to Slipmark. This time, however, she didn’t need to hide. Though they were close to Slipmark, the northern seas belonged to her. Any Bullet would think twice before sailing this far.

Before the Battle of Cloudbreak, contacting the Hands of the River had not been possible. Not only because of their reclusive lifestyle, but because their overlapping river system was notoriously laced with traps. Ships that braved those guarded waterways were rarely seen again. Under Aric’s regime, the Hands had maintained their independence by staying deftly hidden. But the seas were changing, and Caledonia needed their help.