Page 49 of A Princess, Stolen
It was dark, the ship rocking back and forth in the darkness, and all I could hear was the wind screaming, the dark roar of the sea, and the crashing of the breakers against the hull, playing Russian roulette with us. With every wave, I feared the cutter would simply break in two. Eventually, after hours and a faint shimmering gray in the sky, the wind died down.
I was so relieved that tears ran down my face, but no one mocked me. Nathan walked past me, his lips forming a silent “Thank you.” Troy rubbed his wet, straggly hair with both hands and grinned at me, and Pan slapped me on the back of the head, growled something, and nodded at me. In his homeland, that might have meant,Not bad, prinsessa. I don’t know.
Nathan announced that repairs would be carried out over the next day and a half; that’s how long we would be anchored. The sky was a new azure blue and the sun beat down on the main deck at over eighty-five degrees while the men, some of them shirtless, scooped water, insulated and patched up disconnected cables, re-attached cupboards and dressers, and temporarily repaired Plexiglas panels with tape. Delphi tended superficiallacerations and handed out dressing materials. In the afternoon, when all the pipes and electronic systems had been repaired and checked, the engines were running smoothly again. Nathan switched on the pumps and the Agamemnon lost its list. I picked up broken dishes that had fallen out of a lower cupboard despite the precautions, helped carry water, and assisted Troy with minor repairs and later with cooking. I kept encountering the men in the corridors during the day, individually or in groups, but they left me alone and one of the hobbits even smiled at me, as did Castor. Perhaps someone told them about the crane that almost hit Nathan or they were simply too exhausted to bother me.
Only Sparta, Taurus, and Ilias still looked at me as if I had brought the plague on board.
Okay, Taurus seemed less grim than before, but Ilias knocked the glass of water out of my hand that Pan and I tried to give him. And Sparta and Mykonos, the guy with the short military haircut and spongy skin, pushed me twice against the wall as if by accident as I walked past them. After that, I was careful not to encounter them while alone, which was easier with Sparta than with Mykonos since I could smell his camphor scent from ten yards away.
As a precaution, I retreated to the storage room next to the kitchen. Here, the storm had knocked off two shelves, but nobody had time to screw them back on; other things were more important. So, I forced the dented cans onto the undamaged shelves, eating several cans of canned peaches in the process. With my fingers. An absurdity since Dad had always placed such importance on good manners. Today, I didn’t care. I had survived a hurricane in the Atlantic. My painted nails had broken off and blackened, I had blisters on my fingers, bruises everywhere, and terribly sore arms—but it didn’t matter.
Then I ate six slices of bread from the bag and was truly full for the first time in a long time since the crackers from the previous morning hadn’t remained in my stomach for long.
As evening approached, I noticed the silence. My head had been pounding all day from all the banging and knocking on the Agamemnon, but now the noises had stopped. With a can of green beans in my hand, I peered out the window at the main deck at the bow.
Everyone was gone.
Something about it suddenly made me nervous. The calm seemed like the eye of the storm we had been in only a few hours ago; as if something terrible may happen at any moment. I squeezed the can of green beans onto the shelf and entered the corridor, but still, there was not a soul around. I listened. Nothing. I didn’t even hear a suppressed murmur.
Inside the bridge tower, I climbed a story, but the bridge was locked and no one responded to my knocks or muffled “Hello?”
I knew what that might mean. They were probably discussing something and I sincerely hoped it had nothing to do with me but with the cutter. I slowly walked back down the stairs. As I took the last step, the door to the stern opened and Troy came in. His eyelids were swollen. He looked overly tired, like all of us, but unlike usual, there was a look of unease on his always-cheerful face. “I’m supposed to take you to Nathan,” he stated briefly.
I immediately felt queasy. “Why?”
“Don’t ask, just come with me.” He grabbed my arm. That was strange. Had the rules of the game on board changed a hundred and eighty degrees?
“You don’t have to hold me like there’s any real possibility of me escaping,” I said as he opened the door and pulled me outside.
He didn’t reply but let go. For a moment, I looked at the sun, hanging low and golden over a narrow strip of land as if it had grown too heavy for the sky. I blinked. Was that actually land or ice? Where were we? I looked around. Seagulls were screeching in the orange dusk.
As if from a great distance, I heard Dad say,“Look over there, Willa. Where birds are, there are fish. And where there are fish, there might be dolphins. Maybe we’ll see some baby dolphins.”
It couldn’t be ice. Dolphins preferred tropical waters to the Arctic Ocean. Besides, Nathan had recently suggested that we weren’t far from land.
Troy escorted me until I stepped around the structure and saw the crew. It was bizarre. The men, perhaps unconsciously, formed a kind of honor guard with Nathan standing at the end.
When he spotted me, he came toward me down the passage. His expression was indecipherable, his steps mechanical. In his dark clothes, he seemed aloof and cold, not at all like the Nathan who had kissed me a day ago. Or had it been longer?
With rising panic, the back of my neck tingled. I tried to gauge the men’s mood, but my senses were going crazy. “What is…” The rest of my question was stuck in my throat because I noticed the cell phone in Nathan’s hand.
“Isaac,” he said, pressing the phone into my hand. “He wants to speak to you.” He said it neutrally, almost impersonally as if it was none of his business, but I noticed something in his eyes that made me tremble: fear.
Why is he afraid? Of what?
My heart raced. During the days of the storm, I had completely blocked out Isaac, now, however, the memory of him almost bowled me over. Shakily, I grabbed the phone and pressed it to my ear.
“Good evening, little lady.”
Chapter 11
The disturbing familiarity seeped from Isaac’s voice straight into my veins. For a few seconds, I couldn’t make a sound.
“Aren’t you going to say hello to me too, Willa Nevaeh Rae?”
I looked at Nathan, but he couldn’t hear him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the men approaching. What had Isaac ordered them to do? Kill me because I saw their faces? Had Nathan even told him?
