Page 36 of Seaborn and the Seven Seas

Why did I bleed blue? Why had the oclego bled the same? Where was Theron taking us? To sell us the way Resse had? He’d get a fortune for two Seaborn who could pry oysters, maybe that was the whole reason he’d helped me out of that tavern in the first place.

And that word. Seaborn. Everyone said it like it was supposed to mean something to me. And every time I almost asked, interruption got in the way. I needed answers.

I gave up trying to sleep and slipped out from under the blanket, careful not to wake Jina.

The passage was dark and empty, lit only by the occasional lantern swinging gently with the ship’s motion. I made my way up until I reached the topmost level, the one Theron had stood on earlier looking down at us.

The wind hit harder and colder up here. I wrapped my arms around myself and stared out at the black water stretching in every direction. No land. No lights. Just darkness, the stars, moon, and the sails flapping with the rhythm of the ship’s speed.

I thought of Nam. Of Bora, Sohee, and all the others still in that cavern, prying shells while I stood here under an open sky. Were they all right?

And Minha. Wherever she was, I hoped she’d found a way to make it bearable. Knowing her, she’d probably already made an enemy of whoever bought her and a friend of someone twice as dangerous.

I rubbed my arms harder. So cold. But I was distracted by movement against the stars.

I froze, squinting.

Dark wings spread wide against the night, too big to be any bird, too smooth in its movement to be anything natural. I couldn’t make out more than its shape, black against black, but the size of it sent ice down my back.

A monster. It had to be.

If there were creatures in the sea and land, why not in the air?

I didn’t wait to see what it did next. I turned and hurried back toward the stairs, my bare feet silent on the cold wood, heart hammering all over again for a different reason than it had earlier that night.

I was nearly at my chamber door when I heard a low, rhythmic banging from somewhere below, like someone hitting their head against wood. I should have kept going. I should have gone straight to bed, pulled the blanket over my head, and pretended I hadn’t seen anything in the sky or heard anything below deck. But I followed the sound instead.

Curiosity always won.

Down one level, then another, the banging grew louder the farther I went, until I reached the dim and cramped lowest deck smelling of salt and old wood. One lamp hung at the back corner. And there, tucked against the far wall sat a crate.

Not just any crate. It was massive, twice my height and long. Thick chains wrapped around it horizontally, vertically, crisscrossed, the wood weathered and dark, like it had traveled a very long way to get here. Whatever was inside, they didn’t want it out. Or perhaps, like me, it was a prisoner.

The noise had gone quiet.

“Hello?” I whispered.

Nothing.

Perhaps what or whoever was inside needed rescuing from Theron. Theron sounded noble and respected by his crew, but no one really knew a person and their true intentions.

I inched closer, raising my voice slightly. “Hello?”

The crate rattled. Perhaps this person couldn’t speak.

I gripped the chain to test its strength. A jolt of dull and deep pain shot through my arm, like a tiny lightning strike. I yanked my hand back and rubbed it to ease the ache. Surely that was a one-time thing.

Curiosity got the better of me and I reached for it again. The same result.

Lesson learned.

I knocked. “Hello.”

It growled. A low, guttural sound, deep enough that I felt it in my chest. The crate shifted slightly, the chain groaning under whatever was inside. Then to my horror, a thin stream of blue blood seeped out through the crack at the bottom.

My heart slammed against my ribs, and I scrambled backward, still facing the crate, afraid if I looked away something might fly at me. But I collided into a hard body. Arms caught me before I hit the floor, then released me.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Theron drawled, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe.