This is all feeling very familiar. So familiar, in fact, that I know exactly where they’re taking me. I can almost smell the janitorial closet before I see it, and when they yank the door open and toss me in, it feels unnaturally homelike.

“You guys really need to invest in a proper brig,” I say as I roll onto my back, glaring up at the two of them.

Chuck grins. “I’ll put in a word with the captain.” She slams the door, and the lock clicks into place. Seconds later, the engines rumble to life.

A laugh nearly bubbles out of me. I spent the whole day chained to a pirate, and only now do I feel like a proper prisoner. Santa Elena was counting on word about Bao getting out, but she didn’t think I would be part of the news. She wanted the word to be that pirates were raising Reckoners on their own.

Murphy’s changing that. He’s letting the world know that the pirates didn’t hatch and rear the beast—that there’s a professional trainer behind it all.

That without me, Santa Elena has nothing.

I just went from an absolute nobody on this ship to its most protected resource. The captain can’t lose her Reckoner after putting him on display like that. But now word’s gotten out that she has a hostage, and the hunt is going to start. They can’t take out the Minnow without attempting to extract me first. I’m both the reason we’ll have a pursuit on our tail and the only thing keeping them from blowing the ship out of the water.

And somewhere in this closet, there’s probably that little pill I was supposed to take, a little pill my parents now know never made it down my throat. I failed in my duty as a trainer, and now they’ll see just how bad the consequences are. They’ll be so disappointed.

I scoot into the corner and hug my knees, trying to preserve my body heat. Night’s fallen, the cold has set in, and I’m still soaking wet.

I must fall asleep like that, because the next thing I know it’s morning, and Varma is throwing the door open. “Rise and shine, rani,” he says. “Big day today. Captain’s got a surprise for you.”

“Oh, she shouldn’t have,” I simper as I crawl to my feet. When I pass through the door, I notice that Varma’s grin stretches the tattoo on his cheek. I wonder if the artist had to knock him out to put it on him.

Varma escorts me down to the trainer deck, where Santa Elena and a very rumpled-looking Swift wait. She lurks behind the captain, and as we draw near, I spot the bruise shining on her cheek. Whatever she and Santa Elena discussed last night, it doesn’t look like it was friendly.