Cassia didn't hesitate as Nasir hustled her down the stairs and the short hall into the captain's cabin. He pushed her into the small room and she whirled around just in time to catch a key as it sailed through the air. She peered at the little silver key in her hand before looking up at Nasir.

"Lock the door behind me," he ordered, already turning back down the hall. "Whatever happens, stay silent."

Not giving her the chance to consider what that might mean, he charged back up the stairs toward the main deck. Cassia grimaced, but did as she was told, securing the latch on the door and slipping the key into her pocket. A key she hadn't been aware of until now. Turning, she scurried over to the windows at the stern of the ship, clambering up onto the desk set in front of them so she could peer through the thick glass.

The reflection of sunlight that was thrown off the water was further refracted through the glass, making it difficult to see through. The ship seemed to lurch a little more violently than usual, the only hint that Nasir's orders had been followed and they were now at full-sail.

The ship began carving an arc more toward the south, fleeing the other ship.

Papers and quills crackled under Cassia's knees as she shuffled more toward the right, trying to get a glimpse of the ship again. Even if the glass had been clear, she wasn't sure she'd be able to see anything. The ship had been too far away to be seen without a spyglass. Maybe there wasn't anything to be worried about.

Perhaps the pirate ship had been far enough away that they would easily be able to outrun them. Cassia had never been one for wishful thinking, though. Her pessimism kept her glued to the window, waiting for the ship's white sails to become clear on the horizon.

The caravel dashed across the waves, heaving beneath the strain of a full wind in its sails. Cassia tried to keep her eyes on the line of the horizon, but being in the stuffy cabin started to take its toll on her stomach. Cassia leaned her back against one of the shelves adjoined to the desk, breathing deeply through her nose and exhaling slowly through her mouth. She continued to watch through the window.

Minutes crawled past without anything happening. Eventually, the warm, still air and the rocking motion of the ship began to make her drowsy. Cassia leaned her head against the glass, her eyes sliding closed.

It happened just as she was drifting toward sleep.

A panicked shout came from the deck, loud enough to jolt Cassia back to full wakefulness. A few moments later, the ship jinked violently to the right. Cassia was flung from her perch on the desk, her hip colliding painfully with the chair before she thudded to the floor. Gasping for breath, Cassia clambered to her feet, frantically trying to get a glimpse of the enemy ship.

Why had they turned? Why could she know hear the panicked voices of several sailors, accompanied by the heavy thud of running feet on the deck above her head? How in Torvan's bloody hell had that other ship managed to catch them?

The caravel suddenly swung to the left, sending Cassia flailing toward one of the walls. She smacked into the wood, trying desperately to keep her feet. Her shoulder now throbbing along with her hip, Cassia pushed away from the wall and lunged toward the door.

She reached for the latch, fingers making contact with the warm metal. There, she paused, Nasir's words ringing in her head. If things were getting desperate—which seemed likely, though she couldn't have guessed as to why—Cassia would only get in the sailors' way. Still, her fingers stayed glued to the door, everything in her aching to find out what was happening. To see if she could help.

The thought prompted a brief, sardonic smile. She would be no help sailing, nor had she ever been in a real fight. Ever. Not a physical one, at any rate. And while she trusted both Julianus' training and her own resolve, she was not some stripling youth who had an ultimate belief in their ability to disregard the sanctity of human life.

If she was threatened, she believed that she had it in her to kill someone. But one moment of hesitation would be the difference between who found their life bleeding away. All things being the same, Cassia preferred to postpone that moment until she had absolutely no other choice.

So Cassia forced herself to take a deep breath and turned toward the upset chair. Her hip throbbed angrily, and she changed her mind, instead making her way over to the unmade bed. Settling herself in the middle of the silk covers, she stroked the coarse fur of the lion skin beside her and stared out the windows. The blur of blues and whites of the open ocean revealed nothing to her.

Frustrated, Cassia closed her eyes. As it usually did under uncertain circumstances, Cassia's mind turned to her goddess. While Corlana was not technically a protective goddess like Eretanes or Miras, the god of travelers, she was the deity Cassia felt the strongest connection to. If any of the gods would grant her clarity, it would be Corlana.

Her bruised shoulder and hip throbbed in time with her heart. Rather than distracting her though, the pain served to focus her thoughts. 

Please, she prayed, uncertain of what to ask. Almost unbidden, the thought drifted across her mind. Let me know.

Cassia gasped as the throb in her hip seemed to flare into something sharper. A grunt escaped her, and she lightly pressed a hand against the bruised flesh. The pain grew and she slipped her fingers beneath the waist of her trousers, wondering if the wood of the chair had perhaps cut the skin open.

No blood met her probing fingers and she opened her eyes, a frown furrowing her brow. A shocked gasp left her lips when she found herself not staring out over the blue sea, but rather staring at storm-beaten, white cliffs under dark, violent skies.

Cassia blinked and they were gone. 

Her frown deepened to a scowl and she pushed herself off the bed, crossing the room in a single long stride. Bracing her hands on the desk, she stared hard out the window. Nothing but empty sea met her gaze.

She closed her eyes again, wondering if she'd just had a warning from Corlana. Her shoulder ached along with her hip, and she used the pain to focus herself again. Reddish-orange light throbbed behind her closed eyelids and the faintest whisper of smoke filled her nose.

Sudden shouting and the violent creaking of ropes were her only warning. Cassia clung to the desk, her nails scrabbling along the hardwood it was made of. The ship again lurched to the left, swinging in as tight an arc as a ship of its size could manage. The caravel was a tidy, nimble ship, and it showed that as it dodged through the waters from some threat Cassia couldn't see yet.

Screams rang out. There was more shouting, more running. Above the clamor, Cassia heard clearly one devastating word.

"Narin! Narin!"

"Fire! Fire!"

Cold fear slithered down her spine and wrapped around her stomach, its presence oppressive. Burning out in the middle of the open ocean or being dragged down by the sinking wreckage to drown in the depths was not how she intended to die. Cassia swallowed against the acid in her throat and turned toward the door.

She didn't know anything about sailing, but anyone could haul a bucket of water toward the blaze. And in a situation such as this, Cassia was fairly sure it was all hands on deck.

Decision made and feeling more confident for that fact, Cassia rushed to the door, hands shaking as she unlocked it. The shouts and screams became clearer as she ran toward the deck, the sounds distinguishing themselves as she burst into the sunlight. 

The ship was a blur of activity, sailors seeming to fly overhead as they scurried to obey the orders bellowed from the helm. Men ran back and forth along the deck, bows in hand, skidding to a stop only to loose a shaft in the direction of not one, but two enemy ships.

Cassia froze in the doorway leading belowdecks. Two? she thought wildly, gaze darting over the ship on their port-side. A heavy galleon with a fortified bow lumbered toward them through the water, slower than its companion on their starboard.

As Cassia watched, that ship seemed to dart toward them, heading them off.

Another scream of "fire!" brought the more immediate problem back to the front of her mind. Cassia whirled toward the sound and looked up to find several shrouds on the foremast already burning. At its base, men worked with axes, for it was better to lose the entire mast than to let the fire spread to the main sails or the body of the ship. 

As she watched, a shoal of arrows showered down on the ship from the clipper charging along beside them. Men screamed and collapsed to the deck as they were hit. Other arrows buried themselves in the wood of the railing or sides, smoke pluming in the air as they hit the damp wood.

A few found more lucky targets. Coils of oily or tarred rope, the taut bellies of the sails above Cassia's head, the drier wood in the center of the deck. As Cassia watched, a cabin boy, his young face already streaked with soot, ran across the deck toward a fire beginning to burn along the rigging ropes. He beat at the flames with a sopping wet burlap bag, bawling for help.

Without the rigging, the ship would be dead in the water.

Cassia ran toward one of the strategically placed water barrels, prying off the lid as quickly as she could. She snatched up the bucket waiting nearby for a moment such as this and dunked it below the surface of the water.

Hauling the bucket up—and succeeding in splashing about half of its contents over herself—Cassia ran toward where the cabin boy was battling the rapidly spreading blaze. With a mighty heave, she dashed the water over the rigging, making the fire sputter and go out in a small section. The boy didn't so much as look at her, his attention bent on beating out the flames still crawling along the ropes and creeping toward the body of the ship.

She heard the warning scream seconds before the next volley thumped into the ship. Arrows scudded around her as Cassia ran back to the water barrel. Again she filled her bucket, her entire body seeming to vibrate as she yanked it out of the water. A fire near the foot of the main mast was beginning to rage, men shouting as they ran toward it. Cassia followed suit.

One of the missiles landed perilously close to her foot, making her duck to the side, her boots slipping on the wood as she zig-zagged down the deck. She was soaked by the time she arrived and threw what remained of the water onto the fire.

A wild look around showed that the crew was managing to hold its own against the flaming arrows. Some of the warriors had even managed to conjure up shields, protecting themselves and their comrades from the missiles that whistled over from the other ship.

Cassia continued to run back and forth across the deck, fighting any fire that met her eye. She wove between the other men, ducking under the trained arrows of the fighters, skidding away from enemy projectiles. Fires sprang up one after the other, faster than she could count. Ropes began to break, becoming deadly whips as they lashed through the air.

An ear-splitting shriek of cracking wood made her stumble and turn just in time to watch the foremast—now completely enshrouded in flame—tumble off the starboard bow. Steam billowed up as fire met water. She wasn't sure if it was just in her imagination, but the ship seemed to slow in the water.

She knew she wasn't imagining anything when the galleon began to pick up speed, heading directly for them. In a split second she saw its line through the water and knew where it was going to hit them.

Somewhere above, she heard the bellowed order to brace. 

Cassia turned neatly on her heel and ran as fast as she could for the quarterdeck, trying to get as far away as possible from the middle of the ship. She had just reached the bottom of the stairs when there was an explosion of sound. Wood shrieked as it was torn apart, followed by a mighty crashing. The deck was suddenly no longer beneath Cassia's feet as she was thrown through the air.

She didn't even have the time to pray that she wouldn't be thrown into the ocean before she slammed back down into the deck. Stars blinded her as the back of her head collided with the wood, the air knocked clean from her lungs.

Everything was muted beneath the ringing in her ears. Cassia tried desperately to move, to get to her feet. They had been rammed by the galleon. That meant two very important things: the hull of their ship was likely compromised and taking on water, and the Brunian pirates were either preparing to board or were already doing so.

But she couldn't so much as twitch a finger.

All she could do was lay on her back, useless as a ragdoll, waiting for her lungs to begin working properly again.

When air rushed back into her chest, it was the sweetest breath she'd ever taken. A cough swiftly followed as the rest of her body was brought back to life. Each cough sent lightning bolts through her head, the pain growing so bad she retched, bile scraping her throat raw.

As soon as she could feel her legs again, Cassia sat up, using the nearby railing to pull herself to her feet. She had been thrown halfway across the ship by the collision. Through blurry vision, Cassia gaped at the damage the fortified hull of the galleon had wrought. 

The deck of the caravel was splintered and warped in some places, buckled boards poking up like jagged, broken teeth. The railing and hull were in splinters. The only thing that was keeping them from taking on water and being dragged to the bottom of the ocean was the fact that the galleon was still more or less wedged against the wood of the hull.

Shadows darted overhead. Cassia tipped her head back, watching as men dropped from the sky. Sunlight glinted off the harsh metal of drawn swords and vicious axeheads. Those nearest were cut down in a frenzy of blows and spray of blood.

Bodies thudded to what remained of the deck.

It was pure instinct that sent Cassia careening back toward the stairs, her head throbbing with each step. Fire crackled along one of the banisters, singeing her hand as she clung to it, trying to stay upright. The ringing in her head was dimming, being replaced with the screams of dying men.

The ship swayed beneath her, and she tripped on the last stair, landing hard on her hands and knees. The sounds of blades clashing made her look up, shaking her hair from her face. The helmsman lay dead beside the ship's wheel, a pool of blood leaching out from under him. Cassia's breath came faster as she rose up to her knees.

Askari was backed up against the stern railing, scimitar flashing desperately as he fended off three separate attackers. Nasir stood with his own sword drawn, facing off with a petite figure with long, black hair in a braid that was wrapped around her throat.

Her gaze darted back and forth, back and forth until a cry came from the stern railing. Cassia lunged to her feet, yanking the knife from her boot at the same time. Before she had made the conscious decision to do so, Cassia began moving toward Askari, who was now bleeding from a cut on his chest. Blood spread across the front of his white shirt and as she watched, he bared his teeth, slashing wildly at one of his attackers.

The man jumped backward just in time. His long blond hair flew around his shoulders as he snarled in his guttural language. As he raised his sword again, Cassia stepped forward.

She had no idea what she was going to do until she met Askari's wild eyes. She had seen that look before, in the eyes of the animals used as sacrifices to the gods—the terror when they smelled the blood. When they realized that death was inevitable.

It was all so quiet.

She didn't scream, thinking that might warn them. The tread of her boots was light compared to the heavy stomp of the men before her. Even the crackle of the fire was somehow muted.

The knife sank into the back of the nearest man's neck, the blade grating against the bones of the spinal column. There was more resistance than she had been expecting. Cassia shoved harder, working the knife in deeper.

A gurgling sound was the next thing she heard clearly. After that came the heavy thud of a body dropping to the deck. The knife was wrenched from her hand as he fell and she glanced up to find Askari and the dead man's companions staring at her, dumbstruck.

Cassia exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours. Her hands fluttered up as she made a vague gesture toward Askari.

He blinked and Cassia stepped back as he raised his sword.The other men were too slow—their surprise was still etched across their faces when Askari swung his scimitar, decapitating first one, then the other. Their heads rolled across the deck, fetching up against the starboard railing. More blood jetted from their severed necks, the viscous substance splashing Cassia's torso and legs as the bodies toppled over.

Breathing hard, Askari turned back toward her. Several emotions warred behind his eyes—gratitude, loathing, relief, anger. Then, he bent and pulled her knife from the back of the corpse's neck. Straightening, he slowly extended the blade toward her, offering it hilt-first, his head bowed.

Out of confusion more than anything, Cassia took the weapon, her hand shaking as her fingers came into contact with the smooth hilt. 

Before she had the time to think about what had just happened—what she had just done—Askari grabbed her wrist and began pulling her back toward the stairs.

The sound of a muffled, pained grunt made her turn. What she saw sent the blood rushing from her head and she dropped heavily to her knees. Askari snarled at her to move, but his words died in the same breath.

Then: "Nal!"

The scream shattered through her, making the image in front of her crystallize. Making it real.

Nasir and the woman stood close together. Close enough that if he had tilted his head, he could have kissed her. Nasir seemed to shudder, hands fumbling at the woman's waist. His sword was on the ground at his feet.

Then, she stepped back, pulling out the sword she had thrust through his stomach. It glinted ruby-bright, blood dripping from its delicate edge. She flicked her wrist, sending droplets scattering. Nasir coughed, the sound thick and wet, blood and spit dribbling from the corner of his mouth.

The beads in his hair rang against each other as he fell, collapsing like a puppet with cut strings. 

Movement in the corner of her eye startled her into action, her hand flashing up out of instinct. Her fingers locked around Askari's wrist as he lunged forward. He nearly pulled her over, but she leaned back hard, stopping him.

"Don't," she hissed, using Askari to pull herself to her feet. He looked down at her, rage making his face feral. Her eyes flicked down to the blood soaking the front of his shirt. "You're wounded."

He snarled and turned back toward the woman, but stayed where he was.

She tilted her head, lips pursed as she looked down at Nasir dying at her feet. Wiping her blade clean on the tail of her tunic, she resheathed it and turned toward Cassia and Askari. "You may approach your captain," she said, her voice far sweeter than Cassia had expected. She placed a gloved hand on the hilt of her sword. "If you do not make the same mistake as he."

Moving slowly, Askari circled away from the woman, angling toward Nasir. The woman watched him, her dark eyes tracking every movement.

"There is nothing to do," she said. "He is dying." She said it so matter-of-factly, not even Askari spared her a second glance.

He dropped to Nasir's side, hands pressing against the wound in the captain's stomach. Nasir's breath bubbled in his throat and he raised a hand, lightly touching Askari's face.

Cassia's chest tightened and she turned away from what felt like a private moment. Her eyes fell on Nasir's killer. The woman was already watching her, something in her gaze seeming to weigh Cassia. The look on her face was familiar—it was the same expression the financial ministers got as they weighed the cost of a new project.

"You're Sorveti," Cassia said in the woman's own language. 

She raised an elegant eyebrow. "Your eyes work." She smirked. "As does your tongue."

The sounds of fighting were dying away. Cassia didn't need to see to know that the Sorian crew had lost. A soft keening sound was coming from Askari. The Sorveti woman's eyes turned sad, her head bowing.

"I did not wish to kill him," she said. "He fought well."

Cassia finally worked up the nerve to glance at where Nasir lay. Askari was rocking back and forth over him, hands still pressed against the wound that had killed the captain. He was speaking so quickly, Cassia could only pick out a few words. It was enough to understand that he was asking his friend to come back.

"What..." Cassia's mouth was suddenly dry, her tongue unwieldy. "What happens now?"

The Sorveti woman stared at Cassia, the light in her eyes seeming to dim. Cassia exhaled shakily as the sound of heavy footsteps came pounding up the stairs behind her. A rough hand grabbed her elbow, another arm wrapping around her throat.

Cassia snarled, her free hand coming up to claw at the man's face. Her nails raked down his cheek and he howled, releasing his hold on her arm. Cassia reached up, grabbing the hand near her neck. She turned her head and slammed her free hand into her attacker's elbow, forcing his arm up and over her head before he could begin to exhert any pressure. She ducked under his shoulder, whirling away, keeping a hold of his wrist as she lashed out a foot.

There was a horrible crunch—just like Vestarin had said there would be—and the man screamed,collapsing to the ground, cradling his destroyed knee. More footsteps rushed forward, men swarming around Cassia, restraining her, picking her up. Screams came from Askari as he was dragged away from Nasir's body.

"Now you come with us," the woman called, her voice trilling over the shouts and whoops of the pirates.