I climb out of the Splinter and drop into the sea, leaving Swift to twiddle her thumbs and fiddle with the controls. She’s not too happy about this either. She hasn’t gotten shore leave since I got on the boat, and as much as she disparages people who live on dry land, she’s itching for a chance to get away from the Minnow for a bit. “Can’t wait for the day when we can just roll into port with this guy,” she grumbles, rolling her head back. Her eyes are hidden behind a pair of mirrored aviators.

“I’d say the same, but the captain would probably just lock me in a closet on days like that,” I shoot back as I climb onto Bao’s back. His keratin plates flex beneath my feet as I scramble to the ridge above his head, where he’s grown accustomed to me sitting. The Reckoner pup makes an exasperated noise, but he doesn’t shy under my weight.

Swift’s grown a little colder after our encounter the night that the pirates took down that other ship. She doesn’t try to joke around with me, doesn’t try to participate in Bao’s training or anything. I shouldn’t be too bothered, but before that day it felt like at least I had an ally on this boat. Now I have nothing.

Well, I have a fat baby sea monster. But Bao doesn’t tell jokes, and somehow I need that.

I hate how I need that.

“How heavy is he?” Swift asks.

I want to shoot back “Hell if I know,” but that’s not constructive—it’s not what she’s looking for. I shrug, glancing over my shoulder at Bao’s length. Reckoners are designed to mature unnaturally fast so they’ll be ready to serve as soon as possible. Bao’s growth has accelerated so quickly over the past few weeks that he’s now large enough to take down a neocete. He never finishes his meals, though, and often ends up following the Minnow, dragging a carcass behind him like a pull toy. It’s disgusting, but also sort of adorable.

“Maybe fifty tons?” I hazard. It’s difficult to judge by sight, but he’s around the length of a semi truck. “He’s been gaining weight like crazy, now that he’s got neocetes in his diet.”

Swift nods, then lets her head roll back against the headrest, her fingers tightening on the controls. “I remember someone telling me that neocetes are just fleshdumps for Reckoners to eat.”

“I mean, they’re genetically engineered, just like the beasts. They’re meant to be extreme omnivores so they’ll survive in any climate, and they have to be slow-swimming enough that pretty much any type of Reckoner can take them down.”

She lets out a low scoff. “That’s super messed up.”