Page 8 of Of the Stars and Sea (A Divine Trinity #1)

“ Y ou aren’t supposed to be up there!” the one to the right hollers, his words a slur.

I steal a glance toward the docks where Amara and Wells are staring at me. I give them the signal to head into the city to shadow Raven back to our ship in case she needs help. Amara nods once, her gaze lingering on me for a moment as Wells pulls on her arm for them to leave.

A whoosh of air strikes the side of my face and when I look behind me, I see a dagger arch through the air and land with a clattering thud onto the deck.

Time to go , I think to myself as I cling to the post of the mainmast, trying to steady myself in the growing wind.

“Intruder!” the man on the left shouts. “There’s an intruder on our ship!” He barely gets the words out before he hiccups from whatever spirit fills his belly.

Clutching onto the wood, I start moving to the outer edge of the mainsail.

Going back down the rigging isn’t an option any longer as more of Blythe’s crew spills onto the deck from the stern quarters.

Keeping the post of the sail between my legs, I carefully scoot along the top.

Most of them seem to be deep in the bottle as they haphazardly buckle their weapon’s belts on and a few of them nearly fall over from lacing up their boots.

But their drunkenness doesn’t stop them from trying to land their marks as they start throwing their daggers at me.

I dodge each one and watch the men clamor about the deck to retrieve their lost weapons.

“Bring her down!” the one who kicked Edric screams, pointing at me. He must be a higher-ranking member because he’s less intoxicated than the rest and they all seem to listen to him as they try not to trip over one another while collecting their daggers.

Heat builds in my legs from the effort of staying upright on the mainsail’s post, but I continue to scoot along, keeping a watchful eye on the chaos below.

One of the younger crew members retrieves his dagger from the deck, stumbling forward over his unlaced boots. He manages to stay upright and takes his dagger, lining it up with my slow-moving body. With a flick of his wrist, it releases into the shadowy darkness.

Time slows as I watch the moonlight glimmer off the metal blade. Once it nears me, I know his strike will ring true if I don’t move. Quickly, I tilt forward just as the blade slices through the side of my shoulder.

A fiery sting ignites my skin from where the knife hits and I lose my balance.

My stomach flips as my body tumbles from the safety of the mainsail’s post and I fall through the cool night air.

Reaching out for anything that might save me from my death, my hand finds the rope that keeps the mainsail tight against the post. My shoulder screams at me as the weight of my body snatches from the fall.

“Agh!” I yell as it feels like some part of my shoulder is ripped to shreds.

But I don’t let go.

I can’t let go.

Tears stream down my face from the pain as Blythe’s crew gathers below.

“We’ve got you now, you bilge-sucking dog!”

They all start to yell at me, the insults blending together as my body hangs in the air.

Another flash of pain jolts down my spine as I start swinging my legs.

Grabbing onto the rope with my other hand, I find some relief as I move to get my leg back over the post. My foot catches just in time as another dagger soars past me.

The blade lands in the fabric of the mainsail and I hear the voice from the man who kicked Edric yell not to hit the sail.

Stifling a pained moan, I finally manage to haul myself back onto the post. There’s no time to assess the damage done to my shoulder, not when I hear the subtle click of a pistol hammer being pulled back.

A hard breath pulls viciously from my lungs as a shot rings out and I hear the distinct sound of a bullet zipping through the air next to my head.

Fear grips me. My entire body goes numb before I bolt into action and move across the mainsail post faster and faster. Another shot sings through the air and I duck my head, holding my body close to the post for only a moment before I start moving again.

My hands shake. My legs quiver. My heartbeat pulses in my ears so loudly I can hardly hear the boisterous hollers of Blythe’s crew below me as more bullets fly.

I try to steady my rapid breaths, but to no avail. A bullet hits the post somewhere behind me. Shards of wood crack loudly, and the blast peppers my skin, slicing through the thin fabric of my tunic. It feels like hundreds of pellets whip across my back.

I cry out. Tears of pain cloud my vision. I blink them away hurriedly as I grit my teeth.

Close. I am so close to the edge now. The mainsail post grows thinner the further out I get. A wordless prayer is answered as the night’s wind dies down by the time I get to the end, just as another alarm bell chimes across the city.

Our time is running out.

Rising onto my knees, I carefully eye the drunken members of Blythe’s crew who have rallied below me. They bump into one another as they continue to throw their daggers at me. The man with the pistol that nearly took me out struggles to get another bullet inside the chamber.

Seizing the moment I have between his shots, I carefully stand to my full height, stretching my arms out wide for balance.

“Bring her down!” one of them shouts from below, and more daggers fly through the air. Some coming back down to splash in the water over the ship’s edge.

I smirk and thank the heavens for the rum that runs through all of their veins, making their strikes at me a pitiful attempt that Blythe will certainly punish them for.

Readying myself, I balance on the narrow post and crouch on my feet. With a final salute to the bastards below, I launch off the mainsail post and dive into the midnight black water that drowns out the noise of the men’s dismay.

Stinging bites hit my back and shoulder from the open wounds.

Bubbles soar from my lips as I let out a gurgled hiss of pain.

Whatever muscles I tore in my shoulder makes it difficult for me to swim, but I manage to stay under the cover of the water as I round the stern of the Reaper and head for the docks.

Darkness shrouds my vision, but I’m just able to make out the dock pilings from the little light the moon sends through the water.

Breaking through the sea’s surface, I glance back at the Reaper to find the starboard side of the ship empty of its crew. They must still be looking for me on the other side.

Shaking my head, I snort. “Idiots,” I say before swimming the rest of the way to the wooden ladder at the end of the dock.

A sharp stab sings through my shoulder as I lift myself upward with a grunt.

Finally, I reach the edge of the dock and step back onto dry land.

Sailors and fishermen litter the port. A few of them start gathering toward the edge of the main street, likely wondering what all the fuss is about as the city’s alarm continues to ring.

My wet boots slosh every time I take a step and I can already feel the start of a blister forming on my heel.

We agreed that I was to head to the other side of the port where the Trinity awaits to ready the crew and our ship for a hasty exit.

It’s what I am supposed to do and yet I find myself unable to move.

Feet firmly planted, I stare straight ahead at the bustling street, despite the late hour. A tightness settles in my chest.

Something is wrong . The thought buries itself deep in my mind, its talons ripping my sense of ease to shreds.

It is just a feeling. But there’s no ignoring it. Not when my heart is screaming at me that something isn’t quite right. Snagging a sailor’s leather coat off one of the pillars, I swing it over my shoulders and head back into the city.

The smell of rotting food and something far more foul hits my nose as I move through the crowd of people, further into the bowels of the city.

People have poured out from the taverns, brothels and their homes to see if they can catch a glimpse of whatever poor soul is likely being tracked by the King’s Guard for whatever crime they’ve committed.

Little do they know that I am one of them.

Keeping my head low, I shuffle along the cobblestone street, glancing forward every few steps. When I put my head back down, I miss the man who runs straight into me.

“Fucking hells!” I seethe as a burst of pain cuts through my left shoulder. I look up to find an older man clutching onto his cane to keep from tumbling over. His white beard is muddled with remnants of food and some other sticky mess—likely lager, by the looks of his protruding belly.

He sticks a boney finger into my face. “You ran into me, you scoundreling little bitch!” His yellowed teeth are illuminated from the lantern’s glow hanging from the building next to us.

I unsheathe my dagger and draw it between us. “Well, aren’t you pleasant?” I retort with a sneer, before raising the edge of the blade higher. The flame from the lantern catches the edge of the blade, sending an array of oranges and yellows dancing across the silver metal.

White spots freckle the irises of his once blue eyes as he peers down at my dagger with a scowl. He opens his dreadful mouth for a retort and then I hear it—the pounding of dozens of footsteps sounding from further up the street. We both turn to look where a crowd starts to form a few blocks north.

I look back to the old man and smile. “Tonight’s your lucky night,” I say before sheathing my dagger and leaving him to his misery. The sound of his cursed goodbyes grows more faint the faster I run.

Heavy footsteps meld with the echoes of metal armor clattering against moving bodies. The King’s Guard. It has to be them.

Then I hear, “Catch her! Catch her before she flees!”

For a moment I think they’ve spotted me, but as I look around the crowd, no one seems to notice me.

My stomach sinks.

Raven .