Free Child of a Hidden Sea by A.M. Dellamonica

Sophie kept ascending, taking it slow now, lots of time, all the air in the world was up there, waiting, waiting.
    The surface felt closer than it was. Her head broke the water and she gasped.
    â€œI dunno—how pearl divers—did it,” she said.
    Lais just sputtered.
    They climbed back into the dingy, lying against each other until they had their breath again, their bodies warming where they touched. Then they rowed back to the Estrel . Dracy leaned out, reaching for the skull, reclaiming Daddy.
    â€œPlease tell me this is it,” Sophie said, holding out the stumpy tube to Lais.
    He produced a small key that hung from a chain around his neck. “This is the key the extortionists sent,” he said. He searched the outer edge of the case until he found a lock. He jiggled it. There was a click.
    â€œHooray for that,” Sophie said.
    He unscrewed the cap and, peered inside, reaching with a finger and tugging. “There’s a plug.”
    Tug. Tug. The “plug” popped out with a thump.
    Sophie felt a kick go through her whole body, a jolt of terror.
    â€œIs that … a metal?” Dracy asked.
    â€œDown, get down!” Sophie snatched the grenade— grenade, dammit grenade, don’t go off! —from the deck and hurled it as far from the Estrel as she could.
    â€œTeeth, Sophie, what are—”
    She grabbed Lais by the ankle and flipped him on his back.
    There was a bang. A tremor thrummed through the ship: shock and a chattering as shrapnel and water clattered off the starboard hull.
    The birds, as one, took off, shrieking reproachfully.
    Bet there’s some petrel feathers in the water now, Sophie thought, a little stunned. I could grab ’em for DNA.
    â€œIs everyone all right?”
    She could see they were. Dracy had curled protectively around her lantern; a piece of flying metal had winged her arm, opening a gash.
    Sophie climbed to her feet—her knees were shaking, and tears were running down her face—and pressed her hand over Dracy’s wound, slowing the flow of blood.
    â€œHow did you know?” Lais said.
    â€œHow did I know? ” she repeated. Her ears were ringing. “Was that the only one?”
    He looked into the case. “All that’s left in here is the scrip. What in the name of Temperance was that thing?”
    This is what it takes to make you people curious about technology? She found herself wondering if she could imitate the dunno, don’t care shrug.
    â€œSteel,” Dracy said. “That was steel.”
    â€œTeeth!” Lais said.
    A crewman was running up with bandages now, to patch up the captain.
    â€œSeriously?” Sophie heard an angry edge—hysteria, almost—in her own voice. “You don’t have grenades here?”
    Blank expressions greeted her.
    I suppose it’s only fair, she thought, clutching the rail to steady herself. I don’t know magic, they don’t know modern weaponry.
    â€œI think someone wants you dead, Lais.”

CHAPTER 6
    â€œHorse racing must be pretty cutthroat if someone’s willing to blow you up over a foal,” Sophie observed a couple hours later.
    She and Lais were topside, drinking a thin, yeasty ale and looking at the stars, familiar constellations that suggested that, missing continents or not, this was Earth.
    He waved his glass. “My family’s passion is racing, but I’m something of an oddity.”
    â€œI know how that feels.”
    â€œI’ve been trying to justify my peculiarities by expanding our business into other areas.”
    â€œTouchy areas?”
    â€œYou might say that.” He looked at her speculatively, then said, “Come to my cabin.”
    She followed him below, to a cabin that was only slightly larger than hers. A big leather portfolio lay open on its bunk; tied into it were leather-bound books, an array of what looked like magnifying lenses, and a loom. He unlocked a small