The Misadventures of Anna Cabbot

Pirate's Life

Carson looked up at the height of the main mast and paled visibly. "I think I'll sit this particular adventure out."

"You don't like heights?" Anna untied her high tops.

"Nope."

"How do you fly to Wales every year?"

"Drugs," he said bluntly. "Good drugs that let me sleep from Pearson to Heathrow."

She blinked. "What about the bridges between Canada and the US?"

"I hate them."

"Seriously?" She stood and looked at him head-on.

He crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight from foot to foot, genuinely uncomfortable. She'd seen him frantic and afraid for her, but she'd never seen him like this.

"Don't fall off this thing, okay?" Carson leaned against the ship's rail. "That's all I'm asking."

"I'll go for a swim with you later?" Anna's smile was small and hopeful.

"Don't give me the puppy eyes," he grumbled. He nodded anyway, clearly pleased.

She flashed him a thumbs up, and followed Jenny into the rigging. Jenny, of course, climbed like it was second nature to her. Anna took it a little slower, wanting to be sure of both her footing and her heart. It pounded sure and steady and excited beneath her sternum. She refused to look down even when the sounds of the crew and Carson's gentle heckling faded.

The canvas sails whispered to her. The ropes and rigging swayed, creaking softly, and she curled her fingers and toes around the lines holding her aloft.

Jenny waited for her some ten or fifteen feet from the very top. "Do you trust me?"

Anna didn't look anywhere else but Jenny's bright eyes. "Yes."

She wrapped a callused hand around Anna's arm. "Close your eyes. I won't let you fall."

On the list of Stupid Shit Anna Cabbot's Done in Her 24 Years on Planet Earth this wasn't at the tippy top but it was definitely somewhere up there. Her mother, if she ever found out, would most likely have a damn coronary. Carson probably wasn't watching and there was certainly nobody else up there with them.

Anna's mouth twitched into a smile and she closed her eyes.

They climbed higher and the rope took on a different, coarser texture now that Anna wasn't looking directly at it. It was still steady and sure, and on impulse she reached with her magic. Everything on the ship was connected and it breathed in tandem, tied inexplicably to the movements of wind and water. It was all one fluid system, and Anna tied herself to it for the moment, her lungs matching its rhythm.

"Move this leg here," Jenny murmured, her voice muffled as though filtered through water. Anna obligingly let her muscles flex and relax, still folded in the larger pushes and pulls around her. She straightened when Jenny put a hand on her back, balanced upright on ropes between her legs and beneath her feet. Her toes curled reflexively; she kept her arms out even when Jenny let go.

"Open your eyes," Jenny whispered. The wind took the words immediately after she uttered them.

Anna took in a breath as they crested another small wave and opened her eyes on her — and the ship's — natural exhale.

There was nothing in front of her but an endless horizon where water met sky.

"Wow," she breathed, arms still outstretched. The breeze pulled at her shirt and hair. She laughed, bright and reckless, and soaked it all in.