.ೃ࿐Burning Souls.ೃ࿐ [1]

4 - An eventful escape

An eventful escape

The small porthole was open slightly, letting in a breeze of air. The sun had just begun to rise, and the cabin was illuminated by a yellow glow. Ekaterina found herself staring at the rising sun through the porthole, sitting in her usual position on the bed. Tamar gave her some new clothes a few days ago. The white shirt was falling off her shoulder from under her maroon vest. Her belt was strongly tied at her waist, keeping the bandages around her abdomen and shoulders from falling.

Six days have passed since Sturmhond's crew saved Ekaterina from the depths of the True Sea. She soon learned how most of them were rogue Grisha. Lukas had visited her most of the time, bringing her lunch and dinner. He stayed and dinned with her, telling her his story.

Apparently, he used to be one of the best Tidemakers at the Little Palace. He was supposed to have a high place in the Second Army, but the Darkling decided to send him off to Shu Han, to gather information on their intelligence. He would receive new orders each month, but one day, it just stopped. No new letters, no plan to escape the foreign country, the Second Army abandoned him. Sturmhond had caught him one night trying to sink a small ship. Lukas had hoped that it would distract the Shu militia, but instead, it caught the eye of a certain privateer. He had been with the crew ever since.

For the same reason, he has been tailored multiple times, not wanting to be recognized by other Grisha. One day he would bring lunch to Ekaterina, his natural back hair falling into his blue eyes. Then, a few hours later when he brought her dinner, his hair was a light chestnut, his warm blue eyes gone replaced by dark brown orbs. The resemblance was still there, the small scar at the corner of his lip was still visible, the structure of his jaw never changed, but no one would recognize him easily. Ekaterina didn't, she was ready to light a match and unleash the fire on him, thinking he was the enemy.

She was also informed of the Darkling's impossible task for Alina's tracker friend, Mal. Rusalye was a myth, a story mothers told their children before bed.

It's impossible, it doesn't exist, had said Ekaterina one night, it's a children's story.

Nothing is impossible, darling, said Sturmhond, only improbable.

Ekaterina woke up earlier than usual on the sixth day. She heard the sound of boots hitting wood above her head. People were running around the ship. Something was happening, and Ekaterina wanted to know the reason behind everyone's rush. Sturmhond usually brought her breakfast two or three hours after dawn, so when the door of her cabin opened when the sun wasn't completely on the sky, she jumped on her feet, grabbing a ring dagger in each hand from the holders on her waist. Lukas raised his hands, a smirk playing on his lips, hiding the slight surprise and fear in his eyes. The roots of his hair were starting to get dark, and his eyes were back to their original blue, only flecks of brown in them.