TEN
Rolling the spice tin along the inside of her thumb and up the length of her index finger, Sassi stared out of the galley porthole toward the bow and the ocean beyond.
“Waif?” She kind of heard something, but was too lost in her daze to pull herself back to reality. “Sassi?”
Someone grabbed her shoulder and turned her around; she had to blink a few times to bring Swain into focus. She fixated on him for a couple of seconds before noticing Jockey seating himself in the mess.
Clearing her throat, she tried to remember what she’d been doing before drifting into her daze. Day eight on the water, lunch time, everyone had eaten except the captain and the first-mate.
“Oh,” she said. “I was supposed to bring you lunch in the wheelhouse, what are you doing down here?”
“That was nearly an
