I’d never considered what it would be like, trapped on a small ship with nineteen teenage girls. The bickering started almost instantaneously, and everyone seemed overly keen to prove how responsible she could be without adult supervision.

Despite the training master’s carefully planned schedule, when the time came for dinner, about twelve girls wanted to be first in line to cook. Seven of them crammed into the tiny galley and squabbled about how best to do the venison, and then whether we should have cheese yet or save it, and then, somehow, not a single one of them remembered to check the rice and it ended up burning to the bottom of the pot. Everyone yelled at everyone else.

When Texas finally called us into the galley, it was past eight o’clock and we were all ravenous. They decided to pull out the cheese, after all, presumably because we were so well stocked since Texas’ family owned all the cattle. The girls had also made bannock to go with it. It was the best meal I’d had in months.

“Yikes, don’t cook everything in our stores before the first week’s up,” said Linoya, and I groaned as half the girls who’d been in the kitchen yelled, “See? Told you! It’s too much!”

The sun was still high after dinner—there was, of course, a reason Eriana Kwai picked May for the Massacres—and we decided to have hot tea on the main deck until bedtime. I was on dish duty with Eyrin and Blacktail. Some kind of wordless understanding passed between the three of us, and we took our time finishing the job. We didn’t say much, enjoying the quiet moments spent away from the group.

When we climbed the stairs later, a lot of shouting and arguing was coming from the main deck.

Blacktail, Eyrin, and I exchanged a glance.

“It’s gonna be a long few weeks,” said Blacktail.

I smirked. She never said much, but when she did, it was always a comment I could appreciate.

Dani, Texas, Shaena, and Akirra stood over the rest of the girls, looking outraged.

“Lighten up,” said Zarra, sounding exasperated as she and Texas clung to either end of a box. “We just want to make the first night epic, all right? We’re not going to overdo it.”

Well-known on Eriana Kwai, the same herbs used to treat seasickness also caused wonderful feelings of relaxation and euphoria when taken in larger doses.

Texas pulled hard. “How can you think about relaxing right now? We should be standing at the railing, ready to shoot a demon in the face!”

“Oh, please,” said Linoya, standing up. “We’re nowhere near the Arc. In the entire history of the Massacres, no one has ever been attacked on the first night.”

“You don’t know that!” said Akirra. “You only know about the Massacres that had survivors!”

“We can afford to have fun for—”

“Quit being so useless, Linoya,” shouted Texas. “All you care about is fun. I don’t know why you were even chosen to be here.”

Pain flickered across Linoya’s face, and she snapped her jaw shut.

“Would you guys cool it?” said Mannoh, stepping between Texas and Linoya. It was a bold move; Texas stood nearly a head taller than Mannoh and looked ready to sock Linoya in the nose. “Texas, just sit with us. You don’t have to chew any.”

“If the demons come—”

“It won’t happen,” I said, stopping behind Texas. “Demons don’t attack at random. The military command will strategise—wait until we’re close enough to their city—before sending troops out in hordes.”

They all turned to me. Zarra’s mouth opened, but no one made a sound. The training master always talked about the demons like they were a target, a species needing to be hunted, not a human-like army with attack strategies. But maybe it would benefit us to talk about demons that way—even if it did terrify people to death.

“Meela’s right,” said Mannoh. “All the attack patterns prove the demons are smarter than that. Now let’s stop arguing and celebrate our departure.”

The captain always had the final word.

While Dani’s group sulked away, I poured myself tea from the pot in the middle of the circle and sat by Annith, who nibbled at a palmful of the dried herbs.

Dani made a point of busying herself, clearly trying to prove how productive and valuable she was. She set up a fishing net over the side of the ship, which I had to admit was a good idea. It was never too soon to start supplementing the food in our stores.

“So anyway,” said Annith, as if the whole argument had been nothing but a minor sidetrack. “Rik said he knew he wanted to get me this since last year. He wanted me to have it as a promise from him, that he’ll be loyal to me while I’m on the Massacre.”

“Of course he’ll be loyal,” said Linoya. “All the hot girls his age are sitting right here!”

We gushed about Annith’s promise ring for a while, and then Nora complained about how her boyfriend never gave her anything even though they’d been dating since they were fourteen, and then a few other girls talked about their crushes or potential boyfriends or ex-boyfriends. I mostly stayed quiet, thankful no one pressed me with questions about Tanuu.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and conversations faded as the sky darkened. Linoya jumped to her feet, thrusting a fistful of herbs in the air.

“A toast!”

The rest of us fell silent.

“To our families back home, and our family here on board the Bloodhound. To friendship, love, and the spirit of Eriana. To slaughtering every one of those hell-born sea rats that crosses our path!”

Everyone cheered. Annith and I exchanged a smile, and I raised my mug alongside her clenched fist.

We stayed up until the darkness became absolute and the tea became cold, then trickled to bed a few at a time. Shaena resumed her post at the helm, to be taken over partway through the night by Akirra. Blacktail was still gazing at the horizon when I stood, but she seemed peaceful so I let her be with her thoughts.

A chill crept over me as I scanned the pitch-black water. I crossed my arms and descended to the cabin.

I hung my crossbow by the door alongside everyone else’s. Someone had lit a lantern, illuminating the faint images of Sage and Kade as they pulled on their nightgowns, and Nati braiding Fern’s hair while Fern squeezed her badly tattered stuffed cat. The other girls already lay in their beds—narrow bunks stacked three-high along the walls.

My bed was second on the right, bottom bunk. One row beyond that, also on the bottom, Dani’s dark figure lay curled beneath the blankets. Her ribcage rose and fell with each breath. She might have looked peaceful, for once—if it weren’t for the crossbow wrapped in her arms.

Our compasses proved essential by the following afternoon. The rain poured hard, the sky so dense with clouds that we couldn’t follow the sun’s path. We took turns huddling below deck, having become soaked instantly from rain and ocean spray.

The downpour didn’t let up until the following morning, when we awoke to overcast skies and a frost in the air. We all pulled on our thick parkas.

I meditated over the empty waves all morning, dread gnawing at my stomach.

How close were we to the Aleutian Arc? Did the sea demons know we were coming by now?

I turned my back to the water and scrutinised the crew. Annith sat by the cabin door with Fern, but I didn’t feel like talking to them. Shaena bounced up and down at the helm, looking inattentive while Texas chattered beside her. Dani checked the foresail and tightened the lines as she saw fit—though I could tell from where I stood that everything was in order. In the centre of the main deck, the normally silent Eyrin was talking to Blondie and a few of her friends. Eyrin held a fistful of iron bolts, tossing them on the deck at varying intervals.

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. She’d invented a game. Eager for distraction, I went over to see how it worked.

“She has to stay behind, um . . . behind this line when she throws it,” said Eyrin, flush-faced.

They turned when they saw me coming.

“We’ve called it Morbles,” said Holly, “because it’s kind of like marbles, only morbid.”

She held up an iron bolt, showcasing the deadly piece of ammo against the cloudy sky.

“The objective is, um . . . is to hit the other team’s bolts,” said Eyrin, tossing one to take her turn, “but . . . but you aren’t allowed to step beyond the closest bolt on your own side.”

“There has to be a better punishment for missing,” said Kade. “Every time you miss, you have to throw the next one from further back.”

“How about,” said Nati, “every time you miss, you have to throw the next one from a more awkward position?”

She turned around, bent over, and fired the next one through her legs. We erupted in laughter. I joined the game, realising I didn’t need to wait until a new game started since there was no apparent structure. Annith and Fern joined us soon after that.

Eventually, we added so many rules that we kept forgetting them, and Holly ended up in a giggling fit over one rule that had her leap-frogging over the other team’s bolts. I took a turn lying down and tossing a bolt with my feet, and then Eyrin had to close her eyes while we spun her in a circle for thirty seconds.

Maybe we’d been playing for too long and gotten carried away, because we let Eyrin go with too much enthusiasm, and she threw her bolt with such force it sent every other one flying—something we found hysterical until several of them careened towards the edge of the deck.

Nati and I reacted first: we gasped, lunging for the scattered bolts. But they were too far away. Five of them plunged off the side of the ship.

We gaped at each other. The girls behind us stopped laughing abruptly.

A roar from Shaena cut through the silence, and she left her post at the helm to storm over to us.

“I knew you were going to do something stupid!” she yelled. “I should’ve stopped you ages ago!”

“It was an accident, Shae,” said Holly. “We obviously didn’t mean to chuck weapons into the water.”

“Well you have to be pretty dumb to play a game that risks losing our ammo! Where’s Mannoh?”

She looked around wildly, eyes bulging.

“Relax!” I said, working hard to keep from shouting back. “We have an entire hull full of ammo. We have bigger issues if five bolts is going to make or break us.”

“It could!”

“Well we can’t get ’em back now,” said Fern, shooting a nasty glare at Shaena. “So simmer down a bit.”

“I . . . I’m so sorry,” said Eyrin, her voice high. I thought I could see her eyes brimming with tears.

“It’s not your fault,” I said, gripping her shoulder. “It was all of us. Don’t worry about it.”

Shaena glanced around, and I knew she was hoping Dani would come help yell at us. But Dani was on dinner duty. So Shaena inclined her head, then whirled around and strode back to the helm.

I checked the position of the sun. We’d been playing all afternoon.

The game had been bittersweet, and the first time I’d been able to forget the sense of impending doom hanging over us like a blanket of chain armour.

My anxiety returned like a tidal wave as the sun approached the horizon.

After dinner, I found Linoya on her back with her feet in the air, heels resting on the main mast. She examined an herb closely, like each tiny flower held the answer to a secret.

I wasn’t sure if she knew I’d approached, but then she said slowly, “Shouldn’t we have seen a mermaid by now?”

She popped the herb in her mouth.

I sat beside her. “Maybe. I’m not sure how close we are to the Arc.”

“But they live everywhere.”

“Right.”

She held out a hand to me, offering me some herbs.

“No, thanks,” I said. “I’m not seasick.”

“Neither am I.”

She spoke in a drawl, eyes abnormally narrow. “Texas was right,” she said. “I’m useless. I should be standing by, ready to kill demons. Just trying to chill the nerves.”

“Take them if you need them,” I said. “I don’t care.”

We sat in silence, Linoya popping herbs in her mouth at regular intervals.

“I don’t like that they’re waiting until we brush their nest,” she said. She was surprisingly coherent, considering how dim she looked. “They’re smarter than Anyo gives ‘em credit for.”

My stomach churned. I dropped my eyes to the sleek crossbow laid across my lap.

“But we have better weapons.”

She gave me a lopsided smile. “What d’you think will matter in the end? Weapons or numbers?”

“Weapons,” I said, trying to put a victorious edge to my voice.

Linoya just squinted at me and laughed, short and deep.

A shout came from the helm, and I turned to see Shaena jumping up and down. Dani stood beside her, a smug look on her pointed face.

“The Arc!” said Shaena, flapping her arms. “I see it!”