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It’s bad. The ship is a mess. Debris is scattered along the deck. Blood and severed limbs cover almost every inch of space. The railing is almost nonexistent where the cannons tore through. Part of the deck is missing from the cannon that went through it from the recoil. I know some of the crew are below, but we look like so few above deck.

“Dimella,” I say. “Roll call now.”

“Aye-aye.”

“Iskirra!” I shout, but I spot her a moment later. She’s already making rounds. I watch her put someone’s shoulder back into its socket, likely torn out while the beastie tried to haul her overboard. Many of those waiting to see her aren’t bleeding. Just holding their limbs still. Broken bones and more sprains.

The ship finally slows as we get the sails up. Kearan turns us, angling the ship back the way we came. We retrace our path slowly, and I know exactly what he’s looking for.

The beastie has risen to the water’s surface now that it’s dead, and we all get a good look at it.

The body is bigger than the ship. It’s fleshy, bell shaped, and almost transparent with the tentacles streaming out of the underside. It glows faintly in the moonlight with some sort of natural bioluminescence. Inside the body, I can see the outline of something humanoid. I don’t know who it is yet.

Lerick’s body is still on the deck. It could be Rorun, but it looks too small to be him. He’s likely lost at sea or clasped within one of the tentacles underwater. Dead either way. That water is cold enough to freeze a person to death long before they could drown.

“Captain,” Dimella says. “We’re missing three. The two lads who were pulled over and Unesta, who must have fallen during the fight.”

Unesta. That’s who’s inside the beastie.

Three more fallen. That’s four in total on this trip. We’re down to twenty-five now.

I say, “We stay put until we can make the repairs Radita needs. All the crew is to turn to her for direction, save those who are injured. Order rest for them.”

“Aye-aye.”

Then I go to my quarters to see to Roslyn.

She’s huddled under the bed. Right where I told her to go.

“It’s okay,” I say. “It’s dead. Are you hurt?”

She cradles her left arm as she wiggles out from under my bed. “Just bruised, Captain. Nothing bad.”

“You’re quick with that knife.”

“Because someone’s been making me practice every day.” She rubs at her sore arm. “Captain?”

“Yes?”

“Is it wrong that I don’t feel scared?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I ought to be terrified that a giant monster tried to eat me. That it almost pulled me off the ship. But I’m not.”

“What do you feel?”

“Alive. Sorinda, my heart is racing, and my hands are shaking, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this good.” She adds quickly, “I’m sorry I snuck aboard your ship and didn’t tell Papa. I feel bad, but I can’t regret the decision when I finally feel useful and like I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

She’s a proper thrill seeker. Just like Alosa. Just like me when I’m about to kill.

I say, “It’s good to be scared from time to time, even if you aren’t right now. Terror is what keeps us alive. It stops us from being reckless.”

“But you’re not scared of anything. I want to be like you.”

“I was scared when I saw that tentacle hauling you away. I was terrified.”

She thinks about that for a moment. “I suppose I get scared for other people, too.”