Unhooked

They’re gone as quickly as they appeared, and I can almost convince myself they hadn’t been there at all. Except for the bits I won’t let myself identify floating in the pinkish water.

Without warning, I’m free. The Captain’s arms are gone, and only the cold cut of the sea wind is there to meet me when I stumble in surprise at his absence.

“Now then,” the Captain says, making his way once again to the head of the steps. Hands on his hips, his silhouette is stark against the setting sun. He takes his time looking over the prisoners, who are waiting, slack-mouthed, below. “Which of you will be joining your friend?” he shouts, pausing for a long, uncomfortable moment while the implication of his words settles over the decks. Down below, the boys’ eyes grow wide with fear. “And which of you will be joining me?”

The captives erupt—all of them clamoring to be the first to sign on as crew for the ship. All of them already shouting their allegiance.

“That’s what I thought,” the Captain murmurs, tossing a glance back at me. He smiles then, a wicked grin that somehow transforms the severity of his face. His smile falters a bit, though, when I don’t respond in kind.

He starts to turn away, dismissing me again, and something snaps.

Memories bubble up to the surface of my mind. The details are indistinct, but the emotions behind them are potent. My whole life, I’ve felt like this—trapped, powerless. I moved because my mom said we had to, I held our lives together when she was falling apart, because the alternative—telling someone, getting help—meant risking everything. But my mom’s a world away now. That life is gone. Even now I can barely bring up the details of it, and I don’t feel like there’s much left to lose.

“What about me?” I demand, drawing his attention back. I don’t know if it’s the cut of the wind or what I just witnessed, if it was the way my blood hummed at his nearness before, or the cold calculation in his eyes now, but I can’t seem to stop shaking.

He raises his brow slightly, mocking me. “What about you, lass?”

“Do you need my allegiance too? Or will you toss me to those monsters?”

The Captain’s eyes go dark, his face an emotionless mask. He takes my measure from where he stands, just a few yards away, his mechanical hand balling itself into a gloved fist. “No, Gwendolyn,” he says softly, his voice rough and filled a desolation that makes my whole body go still. “It’s not your allegiance I want.”





For weeks the boy careened through the days, trying to understand the strange new world he found himself in. He’d long since realized that it was not the grand adventure he’d expected. He did not find his brother. Instead, he found an endless supply of mud and lice and men with eyes like old knives—just sharp enough to be dangerous. . . .





Chapter 15


THE CAPTAIN’S VOICE ECHOES IN my ears as I struggle against Devin and another boy who helps to grab me. I kick and writhe, but it’s no use. They easily outmuscle me, and in a matter of moments, I’m being carried across the deck and down into the belly of the ship. The Captain never looks back. The wind lifts his hair, but he looks as immovable as a statue against the darkening sky and the perilous sea beyond.

Once the boys have me belowdecks, I can’t stop them from tying my hands together behind my back or from dropping me unceremoniously onto the cabin floor.

“Captain’s orders,” Devin says coldly, and then he closes the door behind him with a violent snap of the latch.

With no real windows in the cell-like cabin, the small space is dark and closed in. I struggle to get to my feet, which is no easy task with my hands bound so tightly behind me. Once I’m up, I try the door. It’s locked again, but I throw my shoulder against it and shout for someone to let me out anyway.

No one comes. No one answers. And after a while, my side aches and I’m panting with frustration and fear. Because I don’t know what the Captain could possibly want from me.

I settle myself onto the bed, trying to adjust, but it’s impossible to find a comfortable way to sit or lie with my arms tied like they are. All I can do is wait, my ears sharp and alert for the sound of footsteps outside the door. For a warning that someone is coming for me.

But the waiting is endless and even with the ache in my arms, my eyes eventually start to grow heavy. And the slow rocking of a boat bound for the open sea coaxes me into a dreamless sleep.

? ? ?

I wake from a sharp pain in my arm. It throbs with every heartbeat, a steady stabbing pulse that aches from shoulder to wrist. My cabin is now completely dark, and my head is fuzzy from sleep. The whole ship is quiet, so I know it must be very, very late.

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