When Whitley winds up on the top of a pirate hit-list thanks to her con-artist father, she must hide her identity and board another pirate ship, trusting in one shape-shifting pirate named Bluff to help her escape. Too bad you can never, ever, trust...
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Bluff
Seaweed and sweat, rotten fish and rat scat, all rolled into one horrible scent—that's the smell of a pirate ship. The damp wood beneath my feet creaks and for a moment I forget the girl in next to me. The ship itself feels like home. At least as much of a home as I've ever had.
But there is still a feeling of unease. Every time I step onto a ship, dread fills me. Itching and crawling, it shoots up my spine and into my head.I love it and I hate it.
I try to ignore the yelling and grunting of the crew as they make ready. That's the part that scares me. Not the crew, the setting sail bit.
A ship should just stay docked. It might be pleasant, then.
A small gasp escapes the girl's lips and my eyes dart to her. A particularly nasty pirate named Chassy gets a bit too close to her. His dirt caked arm rubbing hers as he passes. I smile at her discomfort. She's a little princess on a pirate ship.
This will be fun.
She seems to have forgotten me as well. As soon as the pirates are clear of her she walks forward, leaving me behind. I follow, out of curiosity, of course.
I watch silently. She doesn't seem to even notice I'm there. She just stares out at the sea in wonder. Like she's in deep thought as she watches the dark waters.
Is it just me, or is it longing there?
Could this girl, who doesn't know the first thing about sailing, who spent her whole life in a city and corset, possibly love the sea?
That's a horrifying thought.
I hate the sea.
I hate the way it controls you. Pulls you.
Truth is, I couldn't stay away if I tried.
The sea is a part of me, as much as I try to deny it. It owns me.
And I'll never forgive it for that.
"Bluff!" someone calls. Whitely and I turn to the caller simultaneously. A dozen men are on deck, pulling sails, tying rope, pushing us off. Standing in the middle of the main deck is a girl, dressed like the other scallywags around her, but with a white smile that only comes with someone who takes care of themselves. She wears her signature black feather in her pinned black hair.
"Get your smimey arse over here and help me pull the rig!" Rosemera calls to me.
I smile and jog to help her. Together we heave the mainstay far out to catch the north facing wind. It catches immediately and the ship heaves in eagerness.
"Whoa there!" The captain yells even though there's nothing we can do about the wind. It'll blow how it wants to. And right now, it wants us out to sea.
