Cheetah’s hull had been punched in along the waterline, wound after wound after gaping splintered wound. As if a steel-tipped kraken had reached up from below, embraced the clipper, and driven its arms through and through. The sight made Baru heartsick. Her name was Cheetah, and Baru could only think of a dead cat with wolfsbite on its belly.

“Well,” Captain Branne grunted, surveying the damage, “can’t fix that, I don’t think.”

“No indeed,” Baru said.

“She’s sinking toward the stern. Fuck me, will you look at all the glass on that sunroom? That’s going to be a mighty expensive aquarium soon.”

“Cannon,” Apparitor said. He came up beside her, wearing thick gloves: ready to climb up into the rigging and survey the boarding from above. “They were struck by cannon fire. It came in from the starboard side, there, and then the starboard aft as Cheetah pulled away. The attackers aimed high, trying to take her masts off. But by the end they wanted to shoot off Cheetah’s rudder. That was when they put the fatal wound in her stern. I think they wanted to capture Cheetah’s crew, but their weapons worked too well. They fled when the distress rockets went up. Curious that they didn’t finish the job.”

“We have to go aboard,” Baru said. “We have to get the Prince and the diplomatic flags. It’s our only hope against Sulane.”

“I know.” He chewed at his hair. “Shit. There’s hardly any time. Shit. If the weather holds we can stay close alongside and—”

“STORM!” came the cry from the mast-tops. “STORM AWAY SOUTH!”

Baru and Apparitor looked at each other. Baru couldn’t help but grin.

The acting master-at-arms shoved Shao Lune up to the rail. “What do you see?” Baru asked her, pointing to Cheetah. As Ormsment’s staff captain, Shao would’ve read secret files. Perhaps they had described a secret navy warship with many cannon, used to “vanish” inconvenient Oriati diplomats.…

“I see a second-rate clipper hull from our Rathpont yards. The kind we sell to the Mbo to make them envy the quality of our first-rate ships.” Lune’s squint reminded Baru that she’d been down in darkness for a long time. The sun must dazzle. Baru shielded her eyes for her.

“Queen’s blue bulb…” Shao Lune breathed. “Look at those cannon holes.”

“What carries that many cannon?”

“A ghost ship. A ghost ship came upon her.”

Apparitor groaned into his hand. “There aren’t any ghost ships.”

“Of course there are,” Shao sniffed.

“The Empire Admiral would know about them.”

“Very doubtful. We keep these reports from the more … political elements of the Admiralty.” Shao Lune favored him with a supercilious smile. “In the real navy we’ve all heard the stories. Eight-masted titans that bristle with rockets and cannon as they glide about in banks of spectral fog. Immune to interception … as if they know our patrols and sentries.”