Page 22 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

I took it from him. “Thank you.”

Those two words didn’t seem enough. He didn’t know what the dagger meant to me. Minha had made it with her own hands. I slipped it into the secret pocket of my pants where it belonged and made myself a quiet promise. I would find her. Whatever it took.

“This is your chance to escape. If you don’t take the opportunity, there might not be another one.”

A dark and large animal shifted in the stall at the far end. Its breath made small clouds in the cold air. I had never seen anything like it. I pushed to my feet and crossed the barn, one hand out. It turned its long face toward me, nostrils flaring, ears pricked forward.

“You’ve never seen one before?” Ranis asked.

“No. My first time.” I pressed my palm flat against its neck, warm and solid beneath short coarse hair, and felt the slow steady pulse.

“It’s called a horse.”

“Horse.” I chuckled lightly at the word. Everything out here had a name I didn’t know yet.

Jina stirred and stretched. I went to her as she yawned and rubbed her eyes. When she opened them she beamed a smile, then jolted upright.

“Where are we? What happened?”

After I repeated what Ranis had told me, Jina was quiet, her lips moving in that familiar count, especially when I got to the part about escaping.

“I’m afraid.” Her voice came out small. “We shouldn’t do this. What if we get caught? He’ll hurt you again.”

“I’m afraid too, but we can’t be with that monster. He’ll beat us down. We were nearly broken in the cavern, and I can’t have that for us again.”

“I’m not brave like you.”

I cupped her face. The pale light bleeding through the boards caught her hazel eyes—green and gold and brown shifting together, like sunlight moving through shallow water.

“Yes, you are, Jina. You must believe it. We all have bravery inside us. We just need a reason to let it out.”

“Sis is right.” Ranis grinned, his green eyes bright with hope.

She nodded and pushed herself to her feet, then brushed the hay from her clothes. “Let’s go then.”

I had known Jina my whole life. I had always been the one to move first and she had always followed. This was the first time she had stood up before I did.

We reached the door, and just as Ranis peered out, he was shoved back by Captain Russo’s men. That small act of courage lasted one second before the world reminded us where we were.

“Going somewhere?” one drawled, his hand on the sword hilt.

For the love of gods. Why can’t we get a break?

Ranis pushed back his shoulders. “I was taking them to Captain Russo. Now, step aside.”

The men gave Jina and me a slow once-over, then trailed behind us, Ranis in the lead.

The tavern was nothing like I had imagined—big, low-ceilinged, thick with the smell of tallow candles.

Tables were occupied. In the corner, two women draped themselves over a pair of merchants, giggling in high-pitched tones, their fingers trailing along the men’s arms. At the long table near the fire, a group of men sat hunched over their cups, speaking low.

I had never been in a place like this. Never seen people choose where to sit and choose what to drink. In the cavern there had been no choosing. Here, everyone moved as if the world belonged to them.

There, in the corner, Russo sat with a few of his men at a table near the back, a cup in one hand, maps spread before him weighted down with another cup. He didn’t look up, nor did his crew, not until we were close enough and the candlelight caught the scar along his jaw.

My stomach filled with acid at the sight of him. I loathed that man with every fiber of my being. He had hit Jina. He had locked us in the dark without food or water. He had put his hands on me. If given the chance. I would make sure he never did any of it again.

A chair scraped.