Fireteam Delta J. Halpin (top 10 books of all time TXT) 📖

“Great. I need the distraction.” Cortez got lazily to her feet, doing her best to stay level. “Let’s find somewhere I can kick your ass.”

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It had been a week since they set sail.

Asle sat working on an exercise that Synel had set out for her. Her parents had ensured she was a good reader—in fact, it was something she enjoyed—but the woman seemed determined to change that. Over the past week, she’d read no less than fifteen books. Some were introductions to various economic principles; others were stories of clever merchants and the ways they’d made their way in the world, with one especially trite romance Synel had insisted was an “excellent personality study.”

She didn’t see the point of the last one, but had read it all the same.

Now, the woman sat beside her, pointing to the men that strode across the deck.

“And who is that?” Synel indicated a sailor climbing the netting attached to the mast.

“Voggr,” Asle answered immediately. “He’s new to the ship.”

“Good.” Synel inclined her head approvingly.

Throughout the entire trip, she’d stressed the importance of knowing the people around you, even if it was only a temporary arrangement. In part, it was polite, and good manners would usually translate to more business.

“And what is his weakness?” Synel continued.

“Coin.” Asle indicated the ratty shoes on the man’s feet. “The captain brought him on for a low wage. He was desperate for the job.”

“Very good.” Synel indicated the portly man at the far end of the ship. “And what about the captain himself?”

Asle had to think about that one. She could, of course, just give the same answer. When dealing with people—especially those who worked job to job, as sailors did—coin was an especially safe answer.

“His lie,” Asle finally responded. “I think he really believes what he says—about spirits, and the water. If you were to praise him for it, or find a way to show others that it’s ‘real,’ I think that would win him over.”

“Excellent.” Synel laid a hand on top of Asle’s head. “Now, let’s try something harder.” Synel’s eyes fell on Summers as he sat beside his friends, looking out to the ocean. “What about our mutual friends? What do you think their weakness is?”

Asle paused at that. There was the one obvious answer: the reason they’d been stuck in the city in the first place, and why so many people had died.

“Me?”

Synel rolled her eyes, tapping Asle gently on the head. “Wrong. They act before they think. Besides that, they’re mostly good people. And do not belittle yourself in front of me again. I won’t have anyone slandering your good name.”

Asle had to repress a smile.

“Though those are strengths, as well,” Synel explained, turning back to the discussion at hand. “One of the many things I admire about them.”

Asle watched them for a moment before turning away.

Synel must have noticed something on her face, because she tapped Asle’s head a little harder this time.

“You know, you should talk to them,” Synel prompted.

“They don’t want me.”

“They are worried for you, which is an entirely different matter.” Synel stood. “Besides, there will almost certainly come a time when you’ll have to say goodbye. You should enjoy the people around you while they last.”

Asle glanced back as Synel descended below deck, leaving her to her thoughts.

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It was a few hours later, when Asle headed back below deck, that she found Cortez in the hallway.

Asle tried to move past, but Cortez only moved to be in her way once again. The woman was scowling down at her.

Asle just looked back. “Are you . . . mad at me?”

“Maybe. Are you avoiding us?” Cortez leaned down, looking Asle in the eye.

“No.”

Cortez considered her a moment before her frown softened.

“Not mad at you . . .” Cortez opened the door to her quarters and flopped onto the hammock inside. “It’s just that my stomach is trying to kill me. I want to kill everyone on board, present company excluded. And after that last spar, I’m pretty sure Orvar’s going to be peeing blood for a week. So, just not in a great mood.”

Cortez gestured to the one chair in the room.

“Come. Sit.”

“I’m—”

“I’m not asking,” Cortez stressed. “Come on. The others are above deck. It’s just us.”

Hesitantly, Asle did as she said, closing the door to clear the hall.

“How have you been feeling?” Cortez sat, studying Asle.

“Fine,” Asle lied.

”Okay, better question. Do you want to talk?”

After a moment, Asle nodded.

“All right. So why are you so dead set on following us?” Cortez sat forward. “You know, if we made it back home, we’d probably have to go to the city again, eventually. It’s not too late to go back.”

“I want to fix my mistakes.” Asle spoke low.

“Mistakes?” Cortez tilted her head. “You know you’re a kid, right?” She gestured to Asle in general. “You have nothing you need to prove to us. Shit, just getting us this far has probably saved our asses more than once.”

Asle didn’t respond.

Cortez let out a breath.

“Can I tell you a story?” Cortez waited as Asle nodded. “Back when I was a kid, my grandma used to take us to this . . . let’s call it a festival, back when we’d visited. Big firework show—they’re kind of like bullets that go up into the sky and explode into colors. Prettiest thing I’d ever seen. They called it the Burning of the Bulls.”

“What are bulls?”

“Animals.” Cortez caught the look of surprise on Asle’s face. “They’re not actual bulls. It’s just a name. Anyway, it was amazing—lights, explosions, everything. Afterward, I found a this big pendejo in my hometown, ran a stand that sold fireworks. He spent most of his time drunk off