The Scarlet Assassin

Chapter Thirteen

I woke up with a gasp, a scream threatening to escape my throat. My body jerked up so violently, my hammock nearly tipped, almost sending me tumbling onto the ground.

Once my head cleared and my ears stopped thrumming, I looked around, getting a feel for my surroundings. Slowly, the events from a few hours ago came back to me. The sleeping crew members hadn't stirred, nor did anyone around me. In fact, the only noise I could properly identify was the water dripping from cracks in the ceiling and the low snoring of drunken crew members.

I exhaled, bringing my hands up to my hair and running a trembling hand through it. My braid must've fallen out, I thought, a feeble attempt to distract myself. Rarely did I have my hair down. It always proved a disadvantage against enemies who enjoy yanking it to overpower me. Still, I praised my hair, one of the numbered similarities my mother and I shared, so I hadn't ever found the strength to cut it.

My hands were shaking too bad to re-braid my hair at the moment, so I carefully slid down from my hammock, being careful to avoid Sorin, and reached for our chest. It creaked open loudly, making me pause, my heart skipping, to make sure no one woke up. A body shifting was the only thing that moved.

Sliding my coat back over my shoulders and lacing my boots, I quietly made my way up toward the deck, remembering the way Amir and Nia showed us the night prior. The chill immediately grasped at my exposed skin as I stepped onto the vacant deck, and I found myself cussing at the weather. Sailing in general wasn't for the faint of heart, but sailing in winter was another story. At least it was at the beginning weeks where warm days were still possible. Just not today apparently.

I surveyed the deck, spotting only a few crew workers, most drunk. Besides their voices, the deck was eerily quiet. My hands brushed the blades in the waistband of my pants as silent reassurance that I wasn't completely defenseless.

 It was still dark out, but I saw the sun slowly beginning to peek out from the horizon. It sent out thick, bright rays of light and emitted pastel hues that began blending into the dark night sky. At this sight, my stomach dropped. I'd only gotten a few hours of sleep. Again.

Sighing, I moved to the railing, folding my arms on the edge and looking up at the tangle of stars, immediately identifying at least a dozen constellations. I loved astronomy, always had. Father was the one who sparked that admiration in me, the one who fueled the flame that now always burned. I didn't know what drew me to them, why they gave me comfort, why I admired such a cliche thing to love, but I did.

I've read countless stories about young girls looking up to stars as if they were the only thing keeping them rooted to the ground, but I never felt like that. Stars were the only thing that kept me dreaming, kept me floating. They understood me in a way, and maybe I was really just going crazy as everyone said I would; but it seems like they listen to me when no one else will.

Boots clacked next to me, the sound of jewelry clashing against each other growing near. I twitched for my knife until I realized it was Devolan. She joined me at the railing.

"I'll never tire of this view," she said, looking out onto the ocean. I scrunched my face.

"I'm already tired of this view," I grumbled. "I hate sailing."

Devolan snorted. "So I remember." She glanced at me, searching my face.

"Over your crush on Rafe?" I asked before she had the chance to ask whatever she was cooking up in her mind. Devolan smiled, her gold tooth shining in the first light of morning. She played with one of the necklaces resting on her chest.

"Oh, I saw the way he looked at that girl when they first stepped on, and I just wanted to raise some hell. But I was shocked when I realized she was the princess," she bit out her last word.