Chapter Thirty-Five.
I sat on the railing of the helm, my knees propped up and my arms splayed across them, eyes alternating between the black markings on the back of my wrists and the dreary horizon where waves rose and fell. Caleb was stationed behind the wheel, shouting orders to the men below and battling the tyrant seas, winds tearing at the sails, jerking the vessel. The Spanish waters were treacherous particularly when you were unaware of the destination to steer toward. Neptune had informed me of the fire god, telling me all he knew of Vulcan. The man was strong, having stolen fire from the gods and handed it to humanity. His punishment was simple, to rule over that which he had stolen, condemned to live for all eternity, never dying, never aging and never fading away. He hated the idea of love, having
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