Dad takes a step back, one hand still on my shoulder, and reaches into his pocket. He draws out a little blue capsule, and I feel every molecule in my body screaming at me to run. Dad must catch the panic in my eyes—he squeezes my shoulder and holds out the capsule. “Cas, it’s fine. It’s going to be fine. This is just in case.”

Just in case. Just in case the worst happens. The ship falls. Durga fails, I fail, and the knowledge I carry as a Reckoner trainer must be disposed of. That information can’t fall into the wrong hands, into the hands of people who will do anything to take down our beasts.

So this little capsule holds the pill that will kill me if it comes to that.

“It’s waterproof,” Dad continues, pressing it into my hand. “The pocket on the collar of your wetsuit—keep it there. It has to stay with you at all times.”

It won’t happen on this voyage. It’s such a basic mission, gift-wrapped to be easy enough for me to handle on my own. But even holding the pill fills me with revulsion. On all of my training voyages, I’ve never had to carry one of these capsules. That burden only goes to the full-time trainers.

“Cas.” Dad tilts my chin up, ripping my gaze from the pill. “You were born to do this. I promise you, you’ll forget you even have it.” I suppose he ought to know—he’s been carrying one for two decades.

It’s just a rite of passage, I tell myself, and throw my arms around his neck once more.

I board the Nereid with a suitcase full of trainer gear trundling behind me, a travel bag slung over my shoulder, and a growing sense of optimism as I spot Durga’s shadow lurking beneath the ship. A trail of bubbles against the hull marks where she rests her snout against the metal, her body pressed up against the keel.

I don’t think it’s possible to love someone as much as a Reckoner loves her companion ship.

Once I reach the main deck, I lean against the rail and watch my family make their way back down the dock. As I look on, Tom turns, shielding his eyes against the afternoon sun as he tries to spot me. I wave my hand once, then tip him a little salute. Tom salutes back, and I can feel the jealousy radiating off him from here. Like me, he’s been waiting his whole life for the day he gets to do this on his own.

A firm hand taps my shoulder, and I turn to find a mountain of a man towering over me. He’s dressed in a smart uniform, but his gut tugs at the waist in a way the jacket clearly wasn’t tailored to handle.