Forty-Three

Safire woke to a bitter taste in her mouth. She lay on her side, her wrists and ankles bound, her mouth gagged, and her body aching from the constant bumping of a cart’s wheels on rough terrain.

It smelled like fish and brine here. And though the cloth sack over her head blocked out the world, Safire could hear the clop of horse hooves and the softer hush of waves lapping against a wharf.

Axis Harbor, she thought.

Suddenly, the cart jerked to a stop. Someone stood over her. Safire flinched, waiting for whatever was coming. But whoever it was simply untied the rope around her ankles. A heartbeat later, they dragged her from the cart by her armpits and set her on her feet.

Safire would have tried to run, except she couldn’t see. The effect of the scarp berries hadn’t completely worn off yet, making her sluggish and dizzy. She tried to listen, taking in every sensory detail she could.

She heard the clink of money and the murmur of voices as they shoved her up a slope of some kind. As soon as the ground leveled, her boots thumped against wooden planks, and she knew she was on a ship.

The pressure around her throat let up as they untied the sack, then pulled it off her head. Several faces swam into view, none of which were familiar, and then, quite suddenly, she was being shoved down through a hatch and into a dark, dank hold where several people huddled against each other.

Safire rose, shakily, to her feet. Her hands were bound behind her back. She looked up just as the hatch slammed shut, plummeting her into darkness once more.

“Where am I?” she asked.

From the darkness, the deep-throated voice of a man answered, “In the belly of the Angelica.”

That meant nothing to her. “The Angelica?”

“A ship that trades in human cargo.”

“Where is it headed?”

“A far distance from here, lass.”

Safire turned toward the voice. “What do you mean?”

“He means,” said a woman’s voice from farther away, “you’ve been sold by the empress. It’s what she does with petty criminals. Selling them is more profitable than imprisoning them. Or killing them.”

Safire was starting to lose feeling in her hands. The rope binding her wrists was too tight. She breathed in deep, trying to focus. Needing to take stock of the situation.

These were the things she knew: Eris was in terrible danger. Dax and Roa were in the clutches of the empress. Asha would soon be forced to hand over the Skyweaver’s knife. And she herself was trapped on a ship bound for some godsforsaken place she’d never heard of, where her friends would never find her.

A cranking sound thundered around them, and Safire knew from the limited time she’d spent on ships that they were hauling up the anchor. As soon as it was fully raised, they’d head out to sea.

First things first, she thought.

“There’s a knife in my boot,” she spoke into the darkness. “Could someone cut me free?”