Page 11 of Stars Above the Never Sea (The Last Faeyte #1)
Chapter five
Selene
O f all the cages I have been in, this is not the worst.
Lowering my head back against the wall, I consider my current circumstances. And how I might extract myself from them.
It’s a short consideration. My body rocks in time with the movement of the ship that now clutches me tightly in its hold.
Stretching out my legs, I rotate my foot, eyeing the new copper cuff that secures my ankle to a rusted metal hook in the wall.
At least two-inches wide, it looks innocuous enough. Almost decorative.
I was without one for a whole ten minutes.
I barely remember the time before I wore one. And perhaps that’s for the best.
If I breathe deeply enough through my nose, I can almost taste it at the back of my throat.
The metallic clang of a dampener on whatever magic I might have inside me.
It’s such a familiar sensation that I rarely notice it anymore.
That gaping hole that once felt unending now feels smaller. As if my body has adjusted.
I wonder if magic can stagnate through lack of use. If it does, then surely I’m the same as any other inritus.
I am no threat to them. To anyone. And yet wherever I am, I seem to be caged and chained like an animal that might bite at any moment.
I wrinkle my brow as I glance over my new cage.
This storage room is dark – probably pitch black, but darkness has never been a problem for me.
There are no bars separating me from the mountains of crates piled high around the space, only the chains holding me in place.
A small, neatly packed bag beside me contains dried fruit, meat and biscuits, with a helpful accompanying flagon of… I sniff it cautiously. Water.
They even gave me a bucket.
If only I knew why I was here and where we were going, I might consider my current accommodations pleasant. At least here, there is no Boralas, and no Johan. An almost pungent tang fills my nose, driven by the waves I can hear sloshing against the outer wall of the ship.
Dragging me down, flipping me over and over, pouring down my throat in pillars of salt and pain—
Stop.
The water that once tried to keep me is far beyond my reach now. The memories can stay with it. It’s not a place I plan to revisit.
Settling back, I try to make myself comfortable against the wall.
With my wings bound and wrapped in thin layers of rope—uncomfortable, but not unbearable—it’s not particularly easy, and I spare an irritated thought for whoever wrapped them before I eventually slump awkwardly onto my side.
The chain gives just enough for me to pull my knees up, and I press my cheek against the dirty floor with a wince.
Minutes pass. Perhaps hours, before a creaking sound louder than the ever-present groaning of wood intrudes on the silence. I slowly ease myself upright, using my hands for balance and bracing as I listen with my head cocked.
Over my head, I catch a sliver of light that extends along the beamed ceiling, only for it to merge into a warm glow. Footsteps, light and hurried, sound around the space, and I draw myself back, waiting.
My heartbeat is a thundering drum in my ears, only increasing its rhythm as I furrow my brows in an attempt to drown it out so I can listen . But it grows until it’s the only thing that I can hear, and I shake my head, pressing my hand to my chest as if I could contain it.
The footsteps scurry, and then stop. The glow of the lantern dims, jagged shapes from the boxes between me and whoever is now sharing this space flickering against the wall like nightmarish figures that tower above my head.
They either don’t seem to care that I’m here, or they don’t know. The rustling sound gives me an idea of what’s happening, closely followed by distinctly audible chewing that makes me wince.
I vastly preferred the silence.
But curiosity tugs at me, warring with a healthy dose of self-preservation that keeps my movements cautious as I uncoil myself, using the wall for balance as I rise to my feet. The chain clinks, knocking against the cuff, and I still, barely breathing.
So do the noises.
The silence stretches on for seconds that feel like an eternity. Frozen against the wall, I stay where I am and wait.
They break first. A scrambling, the light of the lantern swinging again, and those quick, hurried footsteps.
The crates stacked around me create small pathways, and my eyes swing between them as those steps grow louder. And pause.
A small figure stands still directly across from me. The lantern in his hand slowly lifts, showing me a mop of dark brown curls, a flash of golden skin and wide-set brown eyes that only seem to grow larger as he takes me in. His head barely reaches the top of the bottom crate beside him.
A child . A wiry child, with what I suspect might be cocoa smeared across his open mouth.
His swallow is audible as I eye him. His free hand drops to his waist, wrapping around the pommel of a weapon that he yanks free with panicked determination before he brandishes it at me.
I bite my cheek at the sight of the battered wooden sword. A play sword. One used for training, perhaps. But his feet spread, his back straightening as he lifts his chin in the air. To his credit, his hand only shakes a little. “What are you doing down here?”
It takes me a moment to respond. Regardless of his lack of steel, I have no wish to be smacked with anything. I nod down, and his gaze follows mine to the cuff and chain. “Perhaps you could answer that for me.”
His eyes draw together, and he takes another step, keeping his little sword up. “Does Callan know you’re here?”
I keep my voice low. “I don’t know who that is. What’s your name?”
His eyes narrow now, as if in suspicion. He stares hard at my face. His head tips to the side, stretching as he gawps, and I almost smile as he takes in my wings.
I’d think it impossible, but his eyes widen further—as if he’s panicking. “Did they weigh you?”
I blink. “I beg your pardon?”
But he’s gone. He dances backward, spinning on his heel and racing through the stacks away from me.
I sag back against the wall, torn between confusion and amusement as a shrill scream echoes back to me.
It seems that not everybody on board knows I’m here.