Page 74 of The Sea of Zemira (The Zemiran Chronicles 1)

“Bah!” Mazie huffed. “This is hardly stealin’.”

He shook his head. “They won’t see it that way.”

“Then perhaps we get those cannons ready and our weapons, just in case,” Nola interrupted.

Lincoln nodded. “Aye, that’s a good idea. We barely made it out of here alive the last time we did this.”

For the first time since Nola fled Zemira, she felt a sense of courage. She ran to Lincoln’s quarters to grab her bow. Having it close gave her that power and bravery she needed. It made her strong.

Mazie took a deep breath and drew in the crisp air before turning to Boots. “Let’s get that water, shall we?”

Boots heaved at the pulley, lowering the barrel down to the water. Once the water rose to the barrel’s brim, he and Lincoln grabbed the rope together and rigged it up.

“Nola, grab the other end,” Lincoln ordered.

The siren girl rushed to the side, and she and Kitten helped pull the end up over the railing to keep it from tilting over. They secured the lid and shimmed it to the side, leaning the barrel up against the mast.

“The next one,” Lincoln said.

They secured the rope and lowered the barrels down, one by one, until all four were filled.

A heavy sigh of relief left Lincoln’s shivering lips. They had their water; they were exhausted, but not out of harm’s way. Not yet.

Nola filled a few empty mugs and passed them around. They had to quench their thirst before heading back. Mazie took two and raced below deck to give one to Big Red.

The ladies secured the last barrel’s lid while Lincoln hurried to the helm.

“Are my lips blue yet?” Hill asked, joining the crew on a bench. He rubbed his hands to keep them warm.

Mazie held out a beckoning hand to help Hill sit by her. “Like a blueberry,” she teased.

Hill settled his rear at the end of the bench, cupped his hand over his lips, and blew out the heat.

“Sorry, lads! This is all my fault.” He looked up. “I’m never drinkin’ again.”

Kitten snickered. “Well, we all know that’s a bloody lie, but we still love ye.”

The scrawny pirate gave her a weak smile. “I can’t feel below my waist,” he said. “That’s a bad thing, ain’t it?”

Kitten nodded as Boots wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her warm. He shot her a strange look.

“Anyone else feelin’ like we’re being watched?” Boots asked.

The golden-eyed pirate nodded. “Aye.”

Mazie leaned her head on Hill’s shoulder and held out her hands. “My fingers feel like heavy bricks,” she said, trying to pull her Monmouth cap over her ears, but she struggled to grip it.

“Frostbite already, darlin’?” Hill asked, laying his long fingers gingerly over hers. She released his hand as a strange chill ran over her body. “Thanks, mate.”

Suddenly, as the ship moved slowly onward, movement caught Nola’s eye.

“Lincoln?” Nola shouted back. “Look.” She pointed ahead. “What is that?”

The captain’s eyes narrowed at the fork, watching a little raft move through the water, with two tiny gnomes sitting on top.

“Fuck!” he cursed under his breath. “Let me do the talkin’.”

The crew peered over the edge as the barge pulled up to the side of the Sybil Curse.

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