The Abyss Surrounds Us (The Abyss Surrounds Us #1)(44)

I wait until her footsteps fade down the hall before crossing to the hatch and yanking it open. Sitting outside in a neat pile is a water bottle, a few protein bars, and a set of clothes that, under closer inspection, appear to be almost folded. I gather them up and lock the door behind me.



I make my way up to the navigation tower a few minutes later, still chewing on the protein bars, which must have been sitting in the Minnow’s stock for all five of the years that Swift’s been aboard this ship. Crew members rush back and forth around me, making preparations for the docking. They hardly notice me. I guess I’ve finally become part of the landscape.

When I climb the ladder into the navigation tower, the four lackeys are the first thing that greet me. Chuck and Varma seem curious, Lemon looks distant, and Swift’s trying to burn holes in the floor with her stare. The captain stands at the navigation instruments with Yatori, muttering to the helmsman in low tones. When she spots me, she gives me that shark smile I’ve come to know so well. It repels me, but I step forward anyway.

“Cassandra, glad to see you out. Got a bit of a surprise for you today,” Santa Elena says, clapping her hands once for emphasis. She’s decked out in her best leathers, looking fit to swashbuckle her way back to civilization. If she’s mad about me stagnating Bao’s training, she doesn’t show it.

My meager breakfast churns in my stomach.

“We’re rolling into the Flotilla in full regalia today, Reckoner and all.”

Panic floods me. Bao’s unpredictable, and putting him in a busy environment is the last thing we need right now. Reckoners are introduced to the complexities of ports in stages. Even in the Reckoner-free harbors of a floating city, Bao’s curious enough that there’s no end to the trouble he could get himself into.

“We’ll set his beacon to get him patrolling and see where it takes us,” the captain continues. “If he starts to cause a ruckus, we’ll rein him in. But in the meantime, I want the world to see what we’ve got. He’s ready. It’s time for a show of strength. Nothing fancy, mind you. But the fact that we have a beast bonded to our vessel’s going to be enough to get everyone talking, and that’s exactly what we’re going for.”

I can’t contradict her. Any urge I have to speak out against her gets pushed back down my throat by the thought of Code’s blood billowing in the water. Of the crack Bao’s beak makes when it slams shut. Of the captain slamming me into the wall of this room. All I can do is nod again, short and curt, and wait for her to dismiss me.

But Santa Elena’s grin widens, and I want to wipe it off her face even more. “You’ve been doing well aboard this ship, Cassandra. It’s time you got some time off it. You’ll get shore leave while we’re docked. I feel like you could benefit from a day away.”

She can’t have said what I think she said. Santa Elena’s letting me loose? In an entire city? I don’t even know the Flotilla’s layout—I could get lost in there so easily.

I could get lost and never return.

And just as the thought is settling in, just as the hope is kindling in my chest, I feel the chill of metal around my wrist and hear the light snap as the handcuffs lock into place.

Should’ve expected that. But Santa Elena doesn’t ask for my other wrist to bind to the one already locked in. Instead, she beckons Swift.

“Oh no,” Swift protests.

“She’s been your charge from day one, Swift. That isn’t changing just because she’s getting off the boat for a bit.”

“Boss, you can trust me to make sure she doesn’t run off. C’mon, this is the first time I’ve had leave in months. I’m going—”

“I take risks, Swift, but not stupid ones. Give me your hand.”

And two seconds later, I’m handcuffed to the one person on this entire boat that I can’t even look in the eye right now. Chuck and Varma whisper to each other over in the corner, and I can see them barely holding back their laughter. They stand up straight when the captain’s glare finds them.

“Both of you are on treasury duty today,” Santa Elena says. “Make sure salaries go out before we dock—I really don’t want a mutiny on my hands in the most popular port this side of the meridian.”

They accept their orders with quick, cocky salutes and plunge down the ladder. I hear a cackle float from below as their footsteps patter away.

Santa Elena turns back to us. “Report time is noon tomorrow. Cassandra, if you somehow get it in your head that you’re going to make an escape attempt, know that I will hunt you down and bleed you out, and there are only so many places to hide on a floating city. Enjoy leave.” She claps me on the shoulder, then disappears down the ladder.

“Well,” Swift huffs.

There’s not much else to say. And Santa Elena hasn’t even given us the luxury of cuffing us after we descended the ladder. Truly her sadism knows no bounds. Swift and I end up working it so that we go down side by side, wedged together in the tiny chute, which is uncomfortable, to say the least. Several times I elbow her, and I bet she thinks I’m doing it on purpose by the end. But the fact of the matter is, it’s really hard to go down a ladder handcuffed to someone you don’t want to talk to.

When we get to the bottom, Chuck and Varma are waiting for us with several cloth bundles slung over their shoulders. Varma holds one up. Swift’s name is scrawled on it in blocky, childish print that I recognize as her own handwriting immediately. “Your winnings,” he says, tossing it to her.