BooksBarbecue
Back The Abyss Surrounds Us
Chapters (37)
  1. Dedication
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. Acknowledgments
  37. About the Author

“No discoloration? No signs that she hasn’t been eating?”

I shake my head.

Mom peers closer at the charts. “I’ve never known her to be unsteady, but there’s a first time for everything. Do you think she’s fit for duty?”

Mom’s asking for my judgment. Durga’s in my charge. Tomorrow afternoon, she’ll ship out with her companion, the Nereid, and for the first time in my life I’ll be working as her sole trainer. Her life in my hands, and my life in hers. It’s my call, and mine alone.

“I’ll keep an eye on her, but I think she should be fine. No need to worry the Nereid.”

Mom smiles, and I feel like I’ve just passed a test. Like I can be trusted with the monsters she creates. Granted, Durga’s probably the easiest charge she can give me. The Nereid is a cruise ship, not an important cargo boat like the one Fae escorts. Durga’s been with the ship for twelve years, and in that time she’s sunk only ten pirate vessels, most of them in her first years on duty. She’s an old titan now, and none of the NeoPacific’s worst want to tangle with her.

And this is my big opportunity. My chance to show Mom and Dad that I’m ready, that I can be a Reckoner trainer full-time. After seventeen and a half years of waiting for the day I finally become the person I’m meant to be, it’s almost here.

Tomorrow, my life begins.

2

2

When it comes time to say goodbye, I hug my brother first.

Tom tugs the end of my ponytail, and I thump him on the back in return. “If you never come back, I get your room, right?” he asks when he lets me go.

“If I never come back, you get my morning shift,” I tell him. He flashes me an impish grin and tries to ruffle my hair. Tom’s two years younger than me, but he’s six inches taller and he never lets me forget it.

The dock around us is choked with tourists, some waving to people already on the Nereid, others fiddling with their luggage. They’re decked out in the season’s brightest colors, all of them determined to make the last month of summer count. Apparently two weeks on a boat is the best way to do that.

I turn to Mom and Dad, who sweep me into a hug before I can get a word in. “Be safe out there,” Mom mutters in my ear.

“Of course I’ll be safe,” I tell them. “I have Durga.”

She releases me, but Dad holds on tighter. Over his shoulder, I watch Mom shepherd Tom back toward the parking lot, and the anticipation pooled in my stomach swells.