CHAPTER THIRTY
The flickering light caught his face just enough for me to see him clearly.
He had heavy lines carved deep into his skin, dark hollows under his eyes and sweat clinging to his brow, glistening in the lantern glow.
He was massive, broad-shouldered, strong, and his rounded face seemed almost gentle.
But I’d learned that gentleness could be a mask.
My thoughts scattered as every muscle in my body locked into place, bracing for a fight I knew I couldn’t win.
Not unless I was willing to burn the whole ship down, and us with it.
Then, without a word, he reached for the sacks again and tugged them back into place, covering me up as if he hadn’t seen anything at all.
The man straightened, turned, and went on rummaging through the crates like I wasn’t there.
Like I was just another shadow in the dark.
I watched him move, barely breathing, the tremble in my limbs caught somewhere between shock and fragile, disbelieving relief.
That’s how shit the world had become. A stranger sparing my life felt like unimaginable mercy.
The man then disappeared up the stairs, the light shrinking with him.
I waited, heart thudding in my throat, and I was certain he’d return with reinforcements, with rope or chains or something worse.
But when he came back, he was alone. He knelt by the sacks again, just where I was hiding, and held out a flask.
I stared at it, my instincts screaming not to trust the stranger, but thirst roared louder.
The air below deck was thick and heavy, and my mouth was dry as ash.
So, I reached out and took it from his hand, sniffing it first, expecting the sharp burn of alcohol or maybe poison.
But it just smelled like stale water, so I drank.
Then he offered a strip of dried meat. The moment I smelled it, my stomach clenched so hard it hurt.
I chewed slowly, even as the salt burned my lips, and I wanted to ask for more.
Enough for Will and Aran, they needed food and water too.
But I didn’t ask, because I was afraid. Afraid he’d only spared me because he thought I was alone, and if he knew I wasn’t, if he knew there were three of us, would that have changed his mind?
So I stayed quiet, ate what he gave me, and swallowed my shame along with the meat.
Hours or days later, when the ship finally groaned and lurched to a stop, I almost cried.
Muffled voices echoed above, boots thudding across the deck, ropes creaking against strain.
I tried to listen, tried to catch anything useful.
“Coast clear?” Will croaked, his voice rough and cracked, slipping across the dark. I shifted, and blood surged back into my legs. The pain hit fast and sharp, needles stabbing through my thighs and calves, but I pushed myself upright.
“Move!” Aran barked. “Now.”
I scrambled toward the edge of the hold, my hands searching for something solid to push against. Light spilled through the open hatch ahead, almost blinding after so long in the dark, and Aran was already at the stairs, dragging himself up one step at a time.
Will followed, slower. His limbs looked too heavy, like he was moving through water.
He gripped the rail tightly, shoulders hunched, barely holding himself upright.
I was last. The moment I stepped onto the deck, the sun slammed into my face.
I staggered, blinded, as the sky exploded in my eyes, white and gold and searing.
I squinted, but everything burned. I couldn’t see a thing as heat pressed down on me, thick and suffocating, and my legs nearly gave out beneath me.
We must’ve looked like corpses dragged from the sea.
Our clothes were stiff with salt and sweat, my dress clung damp and rancid to my skin, and my hair stuck in greasy strands against the back of my neck.
I could feel the eyes on me.
Will and Aran, hunched and grimy, could maybe have passed for dockhands if no one looked too close. But me? I didn’t blend in. I couldn’t.
A girl with golden hair in a sea of men, I stood out like blood on snow.
I kept my eyes down and pushed forward, Will staggering beside me, weaving like a drunk.
Aran wasn’t much better, but of course, he still leapt off the ship like it was nothing, landing gracefully on the dock like he hadn’t just spent days rotting in a ship’s belly.
A hand shot out just as I stepped onto the plank.
His grip clamped around my arm, yanking me back.
I didn’t see his face. Only a blur of sunburnt skin and calloused fingers.
Heat flared through me before I could stop it. He screamed. The sound ripped across the harbour, louder than the gulls, louder than the water slapping the hull. He dropped me, clutching his hand, skin blistered and smoking. His eyes went wide.
“She burned me!” he screamed.
Oh fuck. Did I?
I didn’t have time to think. The scream carried. Heads turned. Guards in forest-green coats and golden sashes snapped toward us. One barked something I couldn’t hear. Then came the thunder of boots against the dock, fast and heavy, charging straight for the ship.
I bolted. The plank shuddered under my feet, my arms flailed for balance.
The dock tilted as I hit it, boards groaning, and the guards were already there, rushing straight at me.
Their faces blurred. Hands reached for me.
I ducked, veered sideways, weaving between them.
Will was there, a blur at my side, staggering but somehow keeping pace.
A guard lunged for him, and I shoved my shoulder into the man’s chest, hard enough to make him stumble, and Will slipped free.
We wove through them, weaving, dodging, every grab too close, every heartbeat louder than the last. My legs burned. My mouth tasted of blood and fear.
And the harbor itself crashed over me all at once.
Ropes snapped overhead. Sails cracked in the wind.
Gulls screamed into the sky. The air reeked of fish, old fish.
Warmed by the sun, left out too long, slick and sour.
The air was thick with it. Guts and skin and animal bones tossed into the street, buzzing with flies.
The ground was a squelch of blood and grease, and the smell clung to my tongue.
To my clothes. To me. For a split second, I actually considered turning back.
Back to the ship. Back to the dark and the piss and the rats.
And the sun—gods, the sun tortured me. After so long in the dark, the light didn’t just sting, it stabbed.
Straight through my skull, too bright, too sharp.
Like someone had peeled my skin back and left me raw.
Squinting didn’t help. And my legs, still tuned to the sway of the sea, buckled beneath me the second I slowed.
Before I could catch myself, the crowd hit me like a tide.
I couldn’t even tell where the others went.
Will had been beside me, Aran just ahead, but in one blink they were gone, swallowed by the crowd.
I shoved into the crush of people, too many bodies moving in too many directions, colors blurring, gold and green and silk and lace, polished shoes and painted lips, and…
me. A girl who hadn’t washed in days. I could feel it on me, in every thread of my clothes, in my tangled hair, in the way people looked at me.
A woman in a yellow shawl pulled her daughter closer as I passed, her nose wrinkling, her gaze sweeping over me like I was something she'd rather not breathe near. And a man near a fruit stall muttered something under his breath. I couldn’t catch every word, but I understood enough to know it wasn’t kind.
My body felt like it was floating three steps behind me, not quite attached, and the guards were still shouting, still chasing, but their voices got further and further away.
I didn’t dare touch anyone. Not a hand. Not a sleeve.
Not even the edge of a stall. I tucked my fists into my chest and kept running, weaving through strangers who recoiled at the sight of me.
Eventually the crowd thinned, the chaos fading into a quieter street lined with tall white buildings that gleamed in the sun.
I stumbled forward, dizzy, heaving. I didn’t know where I was anymore.
I didn’t know how I was still standing. The guards had stopped shouting.
Maybe I’d lost them. Maybe they’d given up.
Then a hand grabbed my arm. I’m not sure how he dared to, considering I’d just burned a man for doing the same thing.
But Will’s eyes bore into mine as he pulled me into the shadows between two buildings.
I almost collapsed into him. My legs, my whole body, felt numb. Aran stood a few paces away, shifting his weight, his eyes locked on me like he wasn’t sure what I’d do next.
Then I breathed in and nearly choked. My sense of smell was still heightened and every breath brought something new and more vile. It was so dense I could taste it.
“Gods,” I muttered. “We reek.”
Aran let out a dry snort. “That’s an understatement.”
“So this is Alevé, huh?” Will said, peering out toward the street. Aran threw his head back and shouted into the alley, voice hoarse but triumphant. “Ha! Better luck next time, fuckers!”
Will smacked him on the shoulder. “Are you trying to get us killed? Keep your voice down.”
Aran just grinned, shrugged him off, and straightened his back. “Well, I’m starving. So I’m gonna go find something to eat.” He wandered a few steps, then glanced back at me. “Want anything, Kera? Or did that man already feed you?”
The idiot smirked.
Will looked over at me, frowning. “Yeah… that man who kept coming back. What was that about?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “He didn’t say anything.”