The still form of the Heron looms over us. The closer we get to it, the more trapped I feel. The quiet creak of timbers and the slap of water against the hull shouldn’t make it so hard to breathe.
Heron“You all right?” Lirika whispers, still crouched at the bottom of the boat.
I nod, pushing down at the fears rising up in me. Of course this is terrifying. I know what happened to me on board that boat; I know what those sailors are capable of. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let it stop me. I just hope I don’t have to kill anyone.
The sailor pulls in his oars and grabs the rope ladder hanging down from the deck, the wooden rungs clattering against the hull. “Quickly,” he says, casting a glance toward Morrel. He’s not that far away.
“Keep this over you,” I say, dropping my cloak on Lirika
