On weak arms she pushed herself upright and propped herself against the glass. The pants and thin shirt she wore did nothing to provide warmth.
What was her name? She couldn't remember. She was a somebody. Surely. Her mind grasped desperately at a word that might define her. After eons locked inside the emptiness, her mind was slow to provide her information.
Name, she thought. Name. Name. Name.
And then, slowly, a word drifted up from the recesses of her mind. It was a short word, but it was hers nonetheless. Tate, her name was Tate.
Chapter One
The breeze caressed Tate's face and arms, teasing several copper colored strands from its tight braid as she leaned against the ship's railing. It brought with it the salty smell of the ocean, a smell she'd become familiar with over the last eight months she'd spent aboard the Marauder. It was a comforting smell, one that invoked memories of being rocked to sleep by the waves and sharing meals with friends.
She rubbed a finger over the weathered wood of the railing and folded her arms over it. It was time to make a decision. She grimaced and plopped her chin onto her folded arms. She'd spent the last week lying awake at night, unable to sleep as she went over every detail of her plan. Even now she didn't know if she had the courage to leave the ship at the next port or if she would choose the familiar and stay.
"What do you think?" a voice said to her right.
Guilt made Tate jumpy, and she tightened her grip on the rail as she straightened, not wanting her companion to know where her thoughts had strayed. Instead she made a noncommittal sound and hoped he'd move along.
"When I first saw the jewel of the Aurelian Empire, I was in awe," he said about the city, resting tanned forearms beside hers on the rail. His tall figure dwarfed her considerably smaller one. Standing straight, she still only came up to his shoulder. "It took a while for me to see that it wasn't so different from other cities. There're still murders, double dealings and, luckily for me, work for men intent on skulking about."
"Is that so?" Tate said, keeping her attention on the city coming into view.
The captain was right; it was a magnificent view. The sun was just coming up and dawn gently cradled the city in its arms, setting it alight with orange and pinks. A slim peninsula embraced one side of the harbor forming a half crescent moon that was mirrored on the other side by high cliffs. It allowed a strip of open water that ships could pass through before deepening into the wide pool that formed the harbor. On one side a tower stood sentry. Its purpose was to house the massive chain that was strung across the harbor in times of siege and would protect the city from a sea invasion. Framed by the tower and cliffs the city sprawled in a maze of buildings and streets. A palace with its majestic towers and gleaming windows, sat atop cliffs formed from a black rock that sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight. It was an architectural wonder, the crowning piece of the city, and people came from all over the empire to see it.
"First time in Aurelia?" he asked lightly.
She kept her sigh to herself. It figured that he'd want to chat right then. He hadn't had much of a presence on deck for the last few weeks, instead choosing to remain in his cabin and plan the next job. Now when she was thinking mutinous thoughts, he popped up like a bad luck charm. And leaving the ship would mean mutiny in his eyes. Since she hadn't exactly volunteered to get on his ship in the first place, she saw her departure more as a continuation of her life's journey. He, on the other hand, would see it as a revolt. It wasn't that she wanted to leave, quite the opposite in fact. She loved the freedom of being on the open seas and seeing the world one country's port at a time. But it had been made abundantly clear to her over the last few months that there was only so much weirdness a crew could take, especially from a female. When members of the crew cornered her in her bunk and told her to leave or else, Tate had gotten the message. Being a female on an all-male crew was difficult enough. Add odd things happening when she was around and the situation was impossible. She'd considered telling the captain. He might have even come to her rescue, but she knew that his involvement would only turn the rest of the men against her.
She was in danger if she stayed and more if she didn't. There was no doubt in her mind that the captain would hunt her down if she left. She'd seen him do it before when a man jumped ship without a word in her third month on ship. She still had nightmares about what they'd done to him.
Tate faked a grin as she looked up at the captain. A tall man, his face was tanned and showed his age in the weathered lines around his eyes and mouth. Captain Jost's brown eyes were fastened on the city as the ship's crew bustled around him, preparing to weigh anchor.
"Not that I remember," she said.
Jost stared at her with penetrating eyes. He was a canny old seadog, unused to not knowing a person's secrets. Tate, however, still remained a mystery to him. He'd picked her up about eight months ago wandering a strip of rocky shore not known for being settled by humans, unable to speak any language he'd ever heard, and he'd heard a lot. She claimed memory loss, her past before the ship a complete blank.
"That's right," he said softly as if he'd forgotten. They both knew he hadn't. The man's mind was a steel trap. Nothing escaped. "It's amazing how fast you picked up our language," he said, changing the subject. "What language did you speak again?"
Used to his probing questions, Tate ignored him. He often tested her, throwing out random questions that seemed harmless but which were designed to catch her unawares.
His comment about her aptitude for the language was true, though. She had picked the language up quickly. Almost too quickly. Just another puzzle in her life. It was one of the many reasons that some on the crew wanted her gone. They called her a witch, and a witch had no place on a pirate crew.
"Is there something you needed, Captain?" Tate asked, hoping to move him along.
"Just wanted to make sure you won't be going ashore alone." One of his main rules for sailors was they were to have a buddy when visiting a city. There were two reasons for this. One to make sure the men had someone at their back in case of trouble. And two, it prevented malcontents from just disappearing or turning crew into the authorities.
"Danny, Riply and Trent offered to take me with them when they went ashore."
"Good, good." Jost seemed like he was waiting for something. Tate waited awkwardly, unsure whether she was dismissed or not. It felt odd to see the normally decisive captain acting unsure.
"Is that all, Sir?" Tate asked. His scrutiny was making her uncomfortable. It would be very easy to start acting paranoid and give away all her carefully laid plans. A knot of fear and uncertainty tightened in her chest the longer she was in his presence.
He seemed to come out of his thoughts. "Yes, of course. You're dismissed."
Tate turned to go, exhaling with relief until he called her back. Instantly she was on guard again, convinced that he knew her plans. A small leather purse sailed through the air. She caught it before it could hit her in the face.
"Tate, for your work these last few months," Jost said. "Thought you might be able to use some spending wages while in Aurelia."
More than he could know. The bag felt heavy to Tate. She knew without looking that it was far more than her usual shore allowance. It felt like all the extra wages she'd earned over the months. She hadn't dared ask for them, not wanting to alert anyone to her real intentions before she'd even gotten started. Now that she had the money, there was nothing she wanted more than to return it. Jost didn't need another reason to come after her when she was gone.
"A boat is ready, sir," a sailor said from behind them.
Jost held out his hand to Tate, and she shook it. This was it. Goodbye. He'd never know how grateful she was to have been forced onto his ship and made part of his family. No doubt if she hadn't met him, she'd be dead, killed by one of the monstrous beasts that roamed the northern territories.
His calloused skin was rough against her smaller hands. Though her hands had toughened over the months she'd spent on the ship becoming blistered and cracked and eventually developing calluses, they didn't compare to a veteran sailor's.
"Well, I guess I'll see you when I get back," she said. Her lips stretched tight over her teeth, but the smile she offered him was tense.
"Not if the boys take you to their usual place. Most of the crew stays there while we're in port."
She nodded. It was good to know. If she did this thing she was contemplating, she'd have to lose them in the city or sneak out in the middle of the night while they slept.