Trade Secret [on hold]

Adrift

The baking sun beat down upon the back of Connie's neck. She lay there, sprawled across the scuffed wood, trailing her fingers in the water. They were stuck, with not a breath of wind to take them anywhere.

She had already traipsed all around the makeshift boat. It seemed to be entirely comprised of the aft section of the Salamander, and they had shored up the planks covering the large holes in the sides with their few water barrels. It was a ragtag affair, held together with spit and prayers. Connie's spit, and Matthias's prayers. She never saw herself as a very religious person, yet this placid floating had her mumbling excuses to Saint Peter. 

"I'm surprised you haven't jumped off yet and gone to search for Vane and Hanbury and them," said a voice behind her. Connie didn't reply, but rested her cheek on the warm brown wood.

Matthias moved to sit down next to her. "I mean, seeing as how you got all worked up with Alistair."

"I don't even know if he's still there," she mumbled, lifting her face off of the deck and staring forlornly at the gently lapping waters. "Besides, Alistair's sicced you on me, hasn't he? Making sure I don't decide to go for a swim?"

He laughed somewhat hollowly. "Sure. I've been hired to keep Cornelia Vane from doing whatever she wants. Now what's wrong with this statement?"

Connie kicked at him halfheartedly. "Damn straght!" she exclaimed. "Oz's useless, and Harvey doesn't ever do much of anything. And of course Alistair himself is much too above everyone to do the dirty work himself. That would be inconvenient!" She breathed a sigh and sat up. "I just... I don't know what's going on. Everything's happening and I just want it to stop."

"Life doesn't work that way, and you know it."

"I wasn't asking you!" she replied, irritated. "Every time I try to talk to you ye come back with all the snappy wise words! Like I'm a little babe or somethin'!" She slammed her fist into the deck with a thump. "I don't wanna be talked to like that, Mattie. Thank you kindly." With that she leapt to her feet and stormed to the opposite side of the boat, ducking under the boom as she did so.

Matthias followed her on unsteady feet. Connie gave him a glare full of self-righteous anger and disappeared into the damp belowdecks area.

"I can't believe he would talk to me like that," she muttered to herself as she stomped down the steps into the dark underbelly of the half of the ship. Light peeked in slanting beams through the wood slats to create warm puddles on the deck. The motley crew had sealed up the holes as best they could with the one barrel of pitch they had taken with them that remained in the hold. At least they still had their food and water.

Connie slumped against a wall, sighing heavily. Less than twelve hours ago, going by the waterlogged watch she stuffed in a pocket of her trousers, the Salamander had been wrecked by kraken, taking her father and her carefully-constructed life with it.

Just twelve hours ago, she had fit. She knew where she stood. She had thought it could keep going into infinity. But all things come to an end, as things are wont to do. You should know that, she scolded herself. Just how many ends have you yourself caused?

Apparently, not enough.

Connie snapped the cover back onto the watch decisively. She knew what she needed to do.