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Flipp
The next day I woke up with that same sick feeling in my stomach. All I could think about was Jesye, and how he was suffering in the cargo hold. I told him I would help him, and in the end, I was not able to do anything. I knew when we met up with the Witches, he would be sold to them and then his life would be over. But I had no idea what I could do to stop that from happening.
I had been wandering around the boat all day trying to come up with a plan. I had finally retired to the bunks and took a nap. When I woke, I sat up in the hammock and it was quiet below deck. The crew must have slept in longer than I had anticipated. I hopped down from the hammock and left the bunks. I made my way towards the kitchen. I was surprised to find that there wasn't anyone inside. I took a loaf of bread and tore a piece off, shoving it into my mouth. As I chewed slowly, I considered my options. I grabbed another loaf of bread, and a canteen filled with water. I quickly left the kitchen and made my way to the cargo hold. I looked around to make sure that I was alone, and pulled the door open to allow me into the lower cargo hold.
My stomach sank as I saw Jesye. If it was possible, he was in worse shape than the last time I saw him. I went and sat down beside the cage, watching him as he slept. He was so weak that he hadn't even noticed that I entered the room. His breathing was labored, and I wondered if he was dying.
“Jesye,” I whispered.
He blinked a couple of times, and his eyes closed.
“I have food for you, wake up. You need to start building your strength.”
He continued to blink and then slowly sat up, leaning his back against the bars.
“I see you weren't able to break me free,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“Believe it or not, I did try.”
“I have no doubt,” he said with a small smile.
I pushed a loaf of bread through the bars of the cage. He sat up quickly, shoving large pieces into his mouth.
“Slow down there, you're gonna make yourself sick.”
He shrugged and continued to shovel the bread in his mouth.
I handed him the canteen of water through the cage, and he opened it slowly, his hands weak. He put the canteen up to his mouth and took some generous gulps.
“Thank you.”
“You don't have to thank me. Call it human decency.”
“I don't know anything about that.”
“Neither do the Sirens. Do you mind if I come in there and try to clean you up?”
Jesye looked at me with alarm. “If they catch you…” His voice trailed off.
“No one is going to catch me. Even if they did, I don't care. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I just left you here to starve.”
He nodded.
I went to retrieve a basin full of water and some old clothes that nobody would notice were gone. I returned to the cage and set the basin on the floor. The cages in the cargo hold were never locked because the Sirens never worried about prisoners trying to escape. If Jesye left the cage and went to the upper deck, he would be killed on the spot. With his wings clipped, he would not be able to fly off the deck, and he would have nowhere to go. I pulled open the door, picked up the basin, and went inside the cage. I sat down beside him and stared into his eyes. They were probably the saddest eyes I had ever seen. I was doing the best that I could to help him, but in the end, he was probably going to die. I was the only one on the ship that gave a shit about him.
I put one of the cloths in the basin and soaked it with water. I started by dabbing at some of the cuts that he had on his face and his arms. He winced a couple of times as I cleaned his wounds. I moved on from there, just trying to get the dirt off his face. I looked in his eyes, and as I did, something passed between us. I don't think that Jesye expected any type of kindness from me, or from anyone for that matter. I wiped him with the cloth until he was clean, and his wounds looked a bit better.
“What are you going to do, Jesye?”
“Exactly what's expected of me.”
“What does that mean?”
“I won't be a good slave to whoever buys me.”
“You're not going to try to fight?”
“I'm not a warrior. It's literally why I was about to be auctioned off. My own people know that I'm no fighter.”
