"Curiosity is a double-edged sword, both beautiful, and deadly. There's no telling which side you'll get."
A night of innocent exploration turns lethal as Sorcha's sister is captured by human sailors. In her search, Sorcha rescues one of the humans...
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Gendry stared out the thick paned windows of the captain's cabin, one leg tucked beneath him and the other dangling over the edge of the cushioned window seat. For the first time in weeks, he felt clean, fresh, even. The stench of dungeons, dirt, and sweat that had lingered on his skin and clothes was washed away by the bucket of soapy water the captain had ordered brought in for them. His clothes were modest, breathable, with a buttoned overcoat that would serve him well when the cool breeze off the water became too chilly for only a tunic.
Brilliant blue eyes scanned every inch of the captain's quarters. A massive wood-carved desk sat front and center, its back to the window seat he currently occupied. The drawers were locked tight, and all that remained was a quill and ink. Hornigold was a very well-read man, far more than any sailor Gendry had met. Most had no knowledge of the written language, save for the accountants, of course. Thick spined books filled shelves built into the right wall, letters and numerals printed on the outer edge made very little sense to a boy from Flea Bottom. Gendry learned a few words here and there from Mott, just enough to get by but not enough to make sense of a book.
Reading was never something he gave much thought, he had little need for it in his life before, and it wasn't until now that he resented that fact. Gendry didn't trust their saviors. Not in the slightest. Perhaps it was the wandering eyes and hungry smirks that followed Sorcha wherever she walked, or the cloud of suspicion and glint of greed within Hornigold's emerald eyes. He felt he owed it to himself to approach every new acquaintance with a healthy amount of cynicism. The last time he'd been too quick to trust, he'd ended up sold to a Red Priestess like cattle.
