Lir flicked his eyes quickly down the line as he turned away, spotting Tassos picking up his own tray at the end. Relief washed through Lir. The wait was nearly over. All he needed to do was stay calm, eat his meal, then take his Silt the same way every other Bullet did. After the meal.

His mistake was keeping his eyes on Tassos. He knew that as soon as his shoulder collided with something hard. His tray tipped, the contents spilling to the floor with a clatter.

Lir snapped to attention, instinctively raising his fists for a fight even as Cepheus backed away with an apologetic shrug. And a barely concealed mocking half grin.

“Clean it up, Bullet,” the Galley Master called, voice rising above the sounds of snickering and chatter.

Cold stole over Lir as he stooped to collect his tray, plate, glass, and cutlery. There was the mess of his food at his feet and nothing else. His Silt was gone. Behind him, Tassos emerged from the line, a knowing grin on his smug face.

A small, distant part of Lir’s mind told him to ignore this. He would find another way to get Silt even if it meant another night going without. He was strong enough to survive until morning rations and he would rise before anyone else, be first in line, and take his Silt before Tassos ever stepped foot in the galley.

Then Tassos smiled with his teeth and Lir’s mind went very, very still.

Lir crossed the room in two swift strides, swinging his tray like a sword. Hot blood sprayed across one side of Lir’s face as the tray gouged a thick trail through Tassos’s cheek.

Before Tassos could retaliate, Lir brought his fist down like a hammer, punishing the same mangled cheek with a second strike. Tassos stumbled, then recoiled, readying for the next attack, but before either of them could move again, a triple horn beat punctuated the air.

The galley fell silent but for the rhythmic ticking of the old stove. In spite of the call to report topside, no one moved to respond.

Lir and Tassos stood three feet apart, eyes locked in a new kind of rivalry. Dark red blood dripped steadily from the trench in Tassos’s cheek, staining the front of his shirt.

Then Lir stepped forward and stooped low, catching up a single packet of Silt in his fingers and tucking it into his pocket. He blinked once, letting his gaze drift across the galley, then he turned his back on Tassos and aimed unhurried steps topside.