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“Are we to board a ship?” she asked her husband. “I know it’s an option, but to be so far away from home…It’s a strange feeling, to go so far from the only place we’ve truly known.”

“Filip and his men will likely chase us all the way across the sea, but being on a ship a thousand miles away from him doesn’t sound like an awful plan.” He shrugged. “Plus, it’s the only option we have.”

“What about the horses?” She patted her mare’s chestnut brown hide.

“We’ll need to find one to house them in the lower decks with the goats, otherwise we’ll have to sell them, and we won’t get rid of our means of transportation until absolutely necessary,” he said.

“The streets will be packed at this time of the morning—locals purchasing their seafood and crews loading cargo onto the ships. We’d be best to dismount here. ”

Once they were both on the ground, they guided their horses along the path, which grew narrower as it descended into the port nestled between cliffs.

The morning light shone through a low fog, and the streets came alive with the day.

Shutter windows banged open, workers left their homes, and shoppers barged their way to the local markets through overflowing cobble passageways.

A fisherman sat mending his net, while another raised the sails of the small boat. Further along the harbour, bigger boats and ships prepared for voyages across the sea. Gulls squawked as they flew overhead.

In the centre of the docks bobbed a larger ship, its sails already lifted. Its crew thundered across the deck, wrapping ropes and stashing cargo. A long queue of people waited on the dockside to embark .

“Nope,” Damir said as he steered his horse towards a vessel further along, weaving through the crowd and passed crewmembers loading barrels and crates. “It’s too busy and with so many people wishing to journey, it’s unlikely we’ll be able to bring our horses with us.”

“What about the Senan ?” She gestured to a smaller ship, its frame a little weathered, but didn’t appear to be unsafe.

“It could do.” He nodded, then steered them towards the short queue in front of the ramp leading to the deck.

A tall, blond-haired man stood beside a pile of cargo, touching each item as if counting. “Take this below deck and be quick about it.”

A crewmember dipped his head, hoisted a barrel, then hastened up the ramp.

“Excuse me, sir.” Damir approached the blond man.

“No room,” he said bluntly without looking up from his inspection.

“We can pay handsomely.” Damir rummaged in his pocket, then withdrew a pouch of coins. “For safe passage for me, my wife, and our two horses.”

The man glanced up, then narrowed his eyes. “How much?”

“Here.” Damir grabbed a handful of coins from the pouch and handed them over.

“You don’t even know where we’re headed.” The man laughed, although his gaze lingered on the offering.

“Does it matter?” Damir said.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” The man crossed his arms, looking from Adelina to Damir .

She tapped her foot nervously—surely, Filip would’ve sent word to the docks by now. They’d know she’d be here, looking for passage. How could she convince the captain to let them on board?

“You recognise me, don’t you?” she said in a hushed tone.

Damir glanced at her sharply. “What are you doing?”

Ignoring her husband, she continued, “If you’ve heard about a certain sorceress, here I am. If you let us on board, I promise I will be of use to you for the entirety of the journey.”

“We have no use for magic at sea,” the captain said. “The deep waters have their own masters, and it isn’t the likes of us humans.”

“I can control natural elements—the sun,” she clarified, a hint of desperation in her voice. “Perhaps, water too. I haven’t tried, but if you provide us with a cabin, I’ll learn. I can produce fire and conjure crops—your crew will not go without food or warmth.”

The captain pressed his lips into a thin line, then cleared his throat. “Very well. The money and your service.” He accepted the coins from Damir’s outstretched hand.

“Your name, Captain?” Damir asked as he tucked the pouch inside his pocket.

“Burchard Brown,” he said. “I shall not say your names out loud in honour of our deal, but if at any moment, I get a whiff of betrayal, I’ll throw you overboard. Understood?”

Nodding, Damir gripped his horse’s reins tighter.

“On you go.” Burchard gestured to the ship .

As Damir led Adelina and their horses on board, he shot her a disapproving look. “What were you thinking?”

“I had to say something.” She waved the matter away. “I’d rather secure his trust now before Filip finds a way to track us across the sea.”

Carrying their luggage onto the deck, he led her past crew members who hauled the halyards, raising the sails, and others who filed the last of the cargo into the hull. Another member grasped their horses’ reins, then guided the mounts below deck.

Damir scanned the ship. “This could be one of two options.”

“What do you mean?” she said.

“Well, it could be a fruit schooner—quick passages, they’ll take their cargoes to nearby islands and lands.” He gestured to the man who carried the last crate.

“Or?” She leaned closer to him, the hairs on her neck prickling.

“It could be a pirate ship headed for the Hastehill Isles in the east, although they tend to have more cannons, and I couldn’t see any at first glance.

” Damir adjusted the weight of the luggage in his hands and searched the deck once more.

“In true pirate fashion, they’d likely have ten guns.

This one has six, which barely scrapes the preferences of privateers. ”

“How do you know all this?” She pressed herself against the rail to let a crewman past.

“My grandfather used to work at the ports. Before he passed away, he told me about his adventures at sea. I picked up a thing or two.” He winked.

She arched a brow. “After all this time of knowing each other, there are still things to learn. ”

He smiled, then bent to kiss her.

“None of that on deck.” The rough voice of Burchard Brown rang in line with his booming footsteps as he passed the foremast. “You’ll find a large berth area below deck in the forepeak, next to the galley—there’ll be spare bunks for you.”

“Thank you,” Damir said.

Shielding her eyes, she glanced heavenwards, past the crosstrees of a large mast, to the cloudless blue sky. “Fine sailing weather.”

“As long as there’s wind.” He nudged her arm gently.

Within half an hour, the captain was at the wheel, and the ship had left the harbour. From their position by the rail, the land soon appeared as an inky strip on the horizon. A sigh escaped her lips.

“A moment of relief.”

He wrapped an arm around her, and they watched the lapping waves of the sea. “I feel it too. As long as we’re together, we’ll get through anything.”

∞∞∞

“A hat for you both.” Burchard handed Adelina and Damir brown leather tricorns. “The sun is mighty mean out here.”

“Thank you.” She accepted the gift and placed it on her head. Her cheeks were already burning from the heat of midday. “Will you tell us where we’re going now? ”

“The Hastehill Isles in the east, which we’ll reach within the month,” he said. “Gods willing. Have you heard of Marina and Moryana?”

“The water maidens?” She arched a brow. “I’ve heard of them, but I’m unfamiliar with their stories.”

Burchard wrapped his fingers around the wheel and resumed his steering.

“Marina was a young widow from an old legend in which she drowned herself out of love. She’d sit along the shore, sadly looking at the house of her lover, who married another girl.

In her heartache, she flipped boats, taking more men to their deaths. ”

“Ah, I remember her,” Damir said, adjusting his own hat. “Didn’t she charm her lover and take him under the sea, too? So she had her happy ever after.”

“It may be.” Burchard shrugged a shoulder. “I still don’t trust her.”

“And Moryana?” Adelina asked.

“She is beautiful—there’s a figure of her carved into the mainmast over there.

” He gestured to the mast furthest aft. “Her hair is dishevelled and like sea foam. Most of the time, she’ll swim deep in the waters, taking the form of fish.

She is ruler of the sea winds, so we, sailors, pray to her each night.

Depending on her mood, she could be either good or bad, eliminating storms or causing them. ”

“I’ll add her to my prayers,” Adelina said decisively.

“A wise decision.” Burchard eyed her. “There are families on the coasts of the Hastehill Isles who practise offerings for the Vila Goddesses by laying baskets of fruit and flowers in the caves along the coasts, homemade cakes near wells, and assorted coloured ribbons hanged to the branches of trees. The goddesses are eternally young, dressed in white with eyes flashing like thunder. They live in the clouds and water and are rather well-disposed towards men. But all that can change—their moods are like tempests. Emitting a haunting noise of pipes and drums from the sky, they can strike men down with disease if they so choose.”

“Sounds pleasant.” Damir grimaced.

“Aye.” Burchard nodded once, although seemingly unmoved by his recount of the disturbing deity.

“I’m not too certain this voyage was our smartest idea,” she muttered to her husband.

Damir wrapped his arm around her and squeezed. “All will be well.”

“Pray every night to all your gods,” Burchard suggested. “It’s the only way to get across this wretched sea in one piece.”

“I think I might retire to the berths now,” she said.

Burchard bid them farewell with a curt nod, then returned his gaze to the stretching sea beyond the boat.

Arm firmly around her, Damir escorted her below deck, weaving through the crewmen who carried out their duties, and to the small cabin next to the galley. Inside, a berth was positioned either side of a circular window. Water droplets splattered onto the glass as waves licked the ship.