The Sound of a Siren's Call

7.) A Daring Escape

The Captain's Cabin was maybe the strongest place in the ship besides the main hold. I knew no one on the crew of the ship would let me out for fear of my father. None of the windows opened, leaving me completely trapped. The door locked from both sides, and I wouldn't help myself by locking myself in.

I could always break the glass... but then getting out, I'd cut myself and attract a myriad of things I didn't feel adept to deal with. I sighed and picked up the knife my Dad always had on his desk. It was more for show, but it'd do what I wanted.

I wondered how mad my father would be when he came in to retrieve me and the room was just slightly vandalized. If all went well, I wouldn't be there for him to see it.

The windows were made of tiny glass squares, almost looking like quilts hanging on the wall, giving me a view of the open sea. When I was little he'd made a big deal of hiding anything valuable. That included a campaign of sewing keys, especially the ones to his own private quarters, into the furniture of the room. I might be able to find a key to one of the windows.

ψψψ

An hour later, I was covered in cheap stuffing, triumphantly holding my freedom in my hand. I didn't lose a moment pushing the key into the lock of the big wide windows. My heart thudded in my chest as it caught and threatened not to turn.

I forced it to, taking a breath as relief flooded me. The key hadn't broken like I feared it would.

I pushed the window, gulping as it refused to move. My dad should've at least greased it once in a blue moon. I jammed my shoulder against it, almost falling over as the glass stubbornly decided to sway and then swing open.

My hands caught the edge of the window while my feet were still inside the ship. I looked at the rudder a good ways below me. White water flowed easily off it as the boat sailed along. I'd have to think about how I executed my escape.

There was too much of a chance of hurting myself if I just jumped out the window and plummeted into the water below.

I couldn't exactly just stroll out and the sides of the ship were too smooth to climb out like that.

Unless... I still had my father's knife. I would be sore the next day, but it wasn't out of the question. I was just about to try scaling the side of my beloved ship when I saw the door crack open.

My eyes widened as I caught the eye of the newcomer in the door.

"Arriana," he signed. "You need help?"

I stared at him in surprise. He put down the tray of food he had been carrying, reached outside the door, and pulled a length of rope in after him.

"Nigel," I smiled, staying exactly where I was.

He handed me the length of rope. "When can we expect you back, Miss?"

"I don't know."

He nodded. "Try not to die out there."

I nodded. "Thank you."

He paused. "Whatever he said, he does love you."

There it was. Nigel was a firm believer in the infallibility of my father and it was starting to show through. I sighed.

"I know. And I wish you all the best, but I can't do this anymore."

He looked sad. Of course, Nigel had a sad face. Whether it was from the scars he'd collected from his life on the seas, his big doe eyes, his clean-cut face, or something else, he always seemed sad.

"You will be back, though?"

"I have no idea." I tied the rope around a hook on the wall and tugged on it.

"Why are you going?"

I sighed. "Thanks for everything, Nigel."

I slid off the windowsill, clinging to my new escape method. I'd tucked the knife into my pants, and I was regretting it as the momentum of my fall banged me into the side of the Red Revenge. The hilt of the blade dug into my ribs.

Nigel's face leaned over, staring down at me. I'd always liked Nigel, but he wasn't enough to make me regret my fleeing my entire life. His calloused hands might have always been there to comfort me with simultaneously fierce and gentle words, but as I thudded against the side of the Red Revenge, I couldn't care less what he thought of me leaving.

An inch of wood painted characteristically red wrapped around the ship and gave me a foothold. I inched my way to the port, my eyes on the little dinghy that hung suspended.

I took deep breaths, the rope eventually proving too short for my journey. I had to find handholds where I could. With a few miracles, I was below the skiff. It may have been my father's dinghy, but it hadn't always been and it wouldn't be in the near future.

I saw the crew moving on the deck, and I sped up my efforts to get myself in my boat.

I put my arms on the edge of the boat and pulled myself up. The wood tipped, threatening to throw me out. An involuntary shriek came out of me, and I looked up.

That was my cue to leave as soon as possible. I thudded against the bottom of the rowboat and was immediately up again. I yanked the pullies, lowering myself down with a speed that I was dismayed to find was too slow.

The crew of the Red Revenge had caught onto my theft. My father was at the front, evidently yelling down to me. I smirked. Hadn't sixteen years been enough to teach him I wouldn't hear his reprimands?

"Stop," he signed down to me.

I didn't take my hands off the pullies to acknowledge him.

I could be swimming away, I thought.

I suppose it was worth something to know that stealing the boat now would make me and Juniper's jobs easier later. We couldn't honestly be expected to carry the boy the whole way, could we?

When I was close enough to the water, I cut the ropes partly out of spite and partly because it felt better than using the pullies for another second.

I took the oars as further punishment for my escape. My arms were already blisteringly sore, but I felt committed to hauling myself back to Juniper without the shortcut of a tail.