I don’t have the words nor the courage to tell her that’s never going to happen. I grit my teeth and stand a little straighter, fighting to keep down the question that’s burning inside me. She wants me to say it, wants me to cave to her will, and I can’t let her have her way. I’ve got to show her that no matter how long she keeps me on this ship, she’s never going to get me to bend to her.

One of her lackeys on the dais, a skinny white boy with jet-black hair, relieves me of my burden. “You gonna keep playing with her or let her know why she’s here, Captain?” he asks, and several people in the crowd hiss with surprise.

Santa Elena grins wickedly, and for a second I worry that she’ll pull out a gun and shoot the boy right here to make an example out of him. “Points for bravery, Code,” she says, stepping back up on the dais and settling primly on her throne. “Johan, Yue, bring it on out. Let’s shed some light for our guest.”

Two of the pirates push through the crowd into a back room and return moments later, hauling a cylindrical object the size of a refrigerator. It’s mounted on wheels and covered with a black cloth that sways ominously as it trundles forward. They push it in front of the dais, and Santa Elena leans forward, grabbing the hem of its cover.

She yanks it off with a flourish, and I want to sink to the bottom of the ocean in that instant.

Floating in the tank, lit by warming lamps that cast a brilliant red glow around the room, is a leathery purse, and inside that purse is an unborn Reckoner pup.

6

6

“We have a proposition,” Santa Elena starts. “Wait, not necessarily a proposition—strike that. ‘Proposition’ implies that you can either accept or decline, and I’m really not giving you a choice here. We have … an arrangement.”

I can’t focus on anything but the pup, the happy, warm baby Reckoner curled in its sac. It’s nearly ready to hatch, the swell of its body pressing against the membranes that hold it. Its head is nearly tucked into itself, the droll reptilian beak flush against the sac walls. It’s a terrapoid.

Just like Durga.

I can’t think straight, can’t even begin to piece together what’s happening. Reckoner production is highly regulated. It needs to happen in a controlled environment like Mom’s lab, where every stage of growth can be monitored and any embryos with defects can quickly be eliminated. It shouldn’t be possible for pirates to create a Reckoner without that kind of equipment. It shouldn’t even be possible for them to obtain one.

But here lies proof to the contrary.