Page 10 of Of the Stars and Sea

A shimmer catches my eye and I turn to the right to see a school of fish shifting in the current as they slowly make their way toward the giant coral. Not far behind them is the very reason they seek shelter in the first place. A shark—about ten feet long—barely moves its tail as it heads toward the school of fish.

Beautiful.

Another bubble of air leaves the edge of my mouth and the shark takes notice, shifting its path straight for me. Rising from my seated position on the ocean’s floor, I come to my full length as the shark picks up its pace until it’s just about a foot away from me. Extending my arm outward, I gently push on its nose, letting it know that I am not prey and that biting its razor-sharp teeth into my flesh isn’t an option for tonight.

My fingers sink into its skin just a little as I push more firmly. The shark moves to the right. An excited jolt runs through me as I run my hand along the length of its body. It is magnificent and powerful beneath my fingertips.

If I could only stay beneath the surface forever . . . away from the world . . . away from my past.

My heart thrums in my chest just as the longing for air takes a firm hold.

There is work to be done tonight.

Sand and silt swirls around me as I push off the ocean floor and watch the fractured light from the moon cascade through the water in a glimmering show. When I breach the surface and take in a large gulp of air, I tilt my head back, taking in the devastating night sky.

The heavens are showing off tonight as I watch a lone star sail across the darkness. A perfect landscape for the haunting step I am about to take toward my dream. A dream I have wished upon the stars for, and now the time has finally come to pursue it.

With one final look at the sea of stars, I send another silent prayer to the heavens and start swimming toward theReaper.

The large fishing net hanging off the port side of the ship groans against the weight of my body as I start my ascent. Water dribbles off my clothes, splashing loudly against the sea’s surface, so I pause, waiting for the sound to dissipate so I don’t draw any attention from the crew members on board. Closing my eyes, I try not to focus on the burn building in my forearms from holding my weight—and that’s when I hear the yelling begin.

Amara’s and Wells’s voices slice through the night air, coming from somewhere on the docks. Their ruckus masks the sound of the water still dripping off my clothes.Just in time, I think to myself. The tendrils of our well-hatched plan are coming together seamlessly.

Making my way up the rest of the fishing net, I stop just before the edge of the deck and peek over the side to see what I’m up against.

A faint orange glow emanates from the windows at the stern of the ship. Shadows move along the glass panes and drunken roars of laughter ring out.

We were right.Blythe’s crew is a mess of ignorant bastards who couldn’t care less about watching the ship while he’s away with the only members of his crew he can actually count on. A direct consequence for ruling his ship with an iron fist. Fear doesn’t breed loyalty. It only breeds disdain and resentment—a lesson that Blythe clearly hasn’t learned, even after all the years he’s been captain of theReaper.

Amara and Wells continue their verbal assaults of one another and I can see them starting to draw a crowd on the dock.

Just as I swing my leg onto the railing of the ship’s deck, I hear heavy footsteps make their way down the stairs from the quarterdeck on my left.

“Shit!” I whisper as I haul my leg back over, but miss the net with my foot and slip.

Swallowing a scream, I grab blindly at thin air. My hand finds purchase and I grasp tightly onto one of the loops of the net. My feet dangle just above the water. I let out a sobering breath, thankful that I caught myself before making a loud splash that would give me away to whatever lone soul is monitoring the decks.

“Blessed stars,” I grumble as I look down and find my footing to start climbing.

When I reach the edge of the railing again, I glance over to see a gruff looking fellow with a gut spilling over his trousers under his tunic. The laces of his boots are undone and I wonder how he doesn’t manage to step on them and trip, given his wavering stroll around the deck.

Careful not to make a sound, I lift myself over the edge of the railing and plant my feet firmly on the deck just as the poor bastard starts making his way to the starboard side to see what all the fuss is about on the docks.

Hand hovering just over my dagger, I look to my right, making sure no one from the stern quarters sneaks out without my knowing. A bottle crashes against one of the walls inside and the crewmen’s laughter picks up just enough to hide the sound of my footsteps as I edge closer to the lone crew member on the deck. His balding head shines in the moonlight as he rubs his belly with one hand and starts pouring rum into his mouth from a bottle I didn’t notice he was holding before.

Blood thrums in my ears as I take another step toward his broad back. Then another. Until I am so close I can smell the alcohol seeping from his pores.

A grumbling sound that resembles a haggard laugh bubbles from his mouth as he takes in the scene of Amara and Wells screeching at each other on the docks below.

Amara screams, “You bastard! I can’t believe you slept with that wench!” Then she plants a resounding slap across Wells’s cheek and I know she’s going to pay for that one later. But the smirk she wears tells me whatever consequence he has in store for her will be well worth it. A smile tugs at my lips as I shake my head at them. We’re going to be hearing about that smack for days.

The man in front of me strokes his beard as he continues to monitor the scene before him, giving me the perfect opportunity to take the final step I need. He’s an inch or two shorter than me, but his large form still makes it difficult for me to wrap my arm around his neck.

He goes rigid as soon as my forearm braces against his throat, suddenly completely alert, despite being drunk. I tighten my chokehold and his face goes puce.

“I really don’t want to kill you,” I grunt. “I just need you to take a nice little nap.”

He kicks one of his feet against the railing of the ship, bucking us both backward until I almost trip. I move my momentum forward, pushing myself into his back so I don’t fall. Tightening my hold on his neck even more, a gurgling sound seeps from his mouth. Red veins darken against the whites of his eyes as they start to bulge from the sockets.

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