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Paranormal,
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Young Adult Fiction,
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teen,
teen fiction,
ya fiction,
ya novel,
young adult novel,
Paranormal Fiction,
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abyss surrounds us,
emily skrutsky,
emily skruskie
patterns of lights. Then I drop the fish.
And thatâs lesson number one. Come to the beacon, get a reward. I snap off the LEDs and step back into the recesses of the trainer deck, waiting to see what Bao does. Some pups donât take kindly to sharing waterspace with their companion vessel, but this is an interesting case, since the Minnow is the only thing heâs ever known. So far, he seems to be comfortable. He knocks his beak against the shipâs hull a few more times, then turns and begins nosing farther away.
Now comes the real test of whether heâs ready to start bonding training. I nod to Swift, and she plucks the radio off her belt. âSwift to navigation, get us moving at a slow clip,â she orders.
The Minnow âs engines are right below us. They roar to life, kicking up a steaming froth in the water as the boat crawls forward. Bao lifts his head, shuddering as the heat hits him, then starts to paddle after us. It could be simple curiosity driving him, though. We need to set a pace and see if he keeps it.
Most of Reckoner training is a waiting game, and itâs one that makes Swift steam at the ears. She sits on the counter where Iâve grown used to sleeping, knees drawn up to her chin, tossing the radio back and forth from hand to hand. I would have thought the monotony of ship life had prepared her for a couple of boring days, but apparently there are better things to do today aboard the Minnow than watch a beast pup swim.
Bao keeps the pace that the ship sets, and for the first time this morning, I allow myself to relax. If he continues to follow these instinctive patterns, his imprinting behavior will engage, bonding him to the Minnow , and the part thatâs up to him will be over.
Which means the part thatâs up to me is days away.
Baoâs cunning. Heâll learn quickly. Heâs a Reckoner, bred to be trained. And Iâm going to train him to kill. Not to defend a ship, noâthis beast is going to be taught to hunt down and destroy innocent vessels. To ravage the NeoPacific, just like Santa Elena wants.
And if I canât escape, if I canât get myself back to shore, it will all be by my hand. The possibility of failure hits me like a bullet to the chest, and all of a sudden I can feel itâI can feel the slug thatâll be put in me if I do anything to sabotage the captainâs plans. My heart thunders and my jaw locks tight. If it comes to that, Iâll have to keep going along with her orders. Iâm too scared to do anything else.
I slump to the floor of the trainer deck. Dampness soaks into my shorts as a small wave breaks against the side ports.
âWhatâs eating you, shoregirl?â Swift drawls from her perch.
A twinge of annoyance rattles through me. âDonât play that game. You donât want to know what Iâm feeling.â
âIâm bored as shitâIâll listen to anything.â
I consider. Sheâs the closest thing I have to a friend on this boat, even if she does want to gut me most of the time. And after today, I have to move back in with her. âIâm thinking about home,â I lie.
âYouâre SRCese, huh?â
âYeah,â I say, crossing my arms. âWeâre based just outside of New Los Angeles.â
âNever been,â Swift shoots back.
âItâs nice. Good beaches. Of course, itâs empty three quarters of the year. The coastâs lined with summer homes and hotels, so thereâs not much in the way of permanent residents. But during summer it comes alive.â
She wrinkles her nose. âGimme open sea any day. Couldnât stand living on a beach.â
âOh yeah? Youâve never tried it?â
Swift grins, stretching her arms behind her head. âNah, shoregirl. Flotilla, born and raised. Didnât touch solid land until after Iâd started my bleed.â
Of course sheâs from a floating city. Now
Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton