Tags:
Paranormal,
YA),
Young Adult Fiction,
Young Adult,
teen,
teen fiction,
ya fiction,
ya novel,
young adult novel,
Paranormal Fiction,
teen novel,
teen lit,
abyss surrounds us,
emily skrutsky,
emily skruskie
matter how long she keeps me on this ship, sheâs never going to get me to bend to her.
One of her lackeys on the dais, a skinny white boy with jet-black hair, relieves me of my burden. âYou gonna keep playing with her or let her know why sheâs here, Captain?â he asks, and several people in the crowd hiss with surprise.
Santa Elena grins wickedly, and for a second I worry that sheâll pull out a gun and shoot the boy right here to make an example out of him. âPoints for bravery, Code,â she says, stepping back up on the dais and settling primly on her throne. âJohan, Yue, bring it on out. Letâs shed some light for our guest.â
Two of the pirates push through the crowd into a back room and return moments later, hauling a cylindrical object the size of a refrigerator. Itâs mounted on wheels and covered with a black cloth that sways ominously as it trundles forward. They push it in front of the dais, and Santa Elena leans forward, grabbing the hem of its cover.
She yanks it off with a flourish, and I want to sink to the bottom of the ocean in that instant.
Floating in the tank, lit by warming lamps that cast a brilliant red glow around the room, is a leathery purse, and inside that purse is an unborn Reckoner pu p.
6
âWe have a proposition,â Santa Elena starts. âWait, not necessarily a propositionâstrike that. âPropositionâ implies that you can either accept or decline, and Iâm really not giving you a choice here. We have ⦠an arrangement.â
I canât focus on anything but the pup, the happy, warm baby Reckoner curled in its sac. Itâs nearly ready to hatch, the swell of its body pressing against the membranes that hold it. Its head is nearly tucked into itself, the droll reptilian beak flush against the sac walls. Itâs a terrapoid.
Just like Durga.
I canât think straight, canât even begin to piece together whatâs happening. Reckoner production is highly regulated. It needs to happen in a controlled environment like Momâs lab, where every stage of growth can be monitored and any embryos with defects can quickly be eliminated. It shouldnât be possible for pirates to create a Reckoner without that kind of equipment. It shouldnât even be possible for them to obtain one.
But here lies proof to the contrary.
âWeâre a little tired of going up against beasts like your Reckoners,â Santa Elena continues. âWe think itâs time to even up the playing field, and thanks to a fortuitous set of circumstances and some careful planning, weâve finally got our chance. You have a very particular set of skills and the convenience of being presumed dead, and weâve got a long winter ahead of us. While the ocean traffic slows and thins in the cold months, youâre going to hatch our little monster, raise it up right, and put it to work for us come next summerâs hunting season.â
Iâve been so good about not crying up until now. My eyes sting, and I shift my gaze to the ground. The implications are sweeping over me like a tidal wave. The Reckoner trade is founded on principles of balance. Ecological balance that keeps them from devouring the oceansâ biospheres and destroying oceanic life as we know it. Economic balance that ensures the Reckoner industry is profitable and competitive. Political balance that allows for Reckoner justice to be unquestionable on the open seas. It took decades to establish those balances, but a single pup on the side of the pirates could unravel all of that. And Iâd be responsible.
âIf it wasnât clear already, your life is tied to the beast. If it dies, you follow. I donât feed useless mouths on this ship. If your training fails, Iâll slit your throat and dump you into the sea.â
It takes everything I have left not to laugh. Five minutes ago, I was ready to die for my industry and my family. But
Andy Griffiths and Terry Denton