The world lurched, and Rina's feet left the ground. Air fled her gut in a whoosh, and the deck seemed to bounce. It took her a moment to realise Olav had her over his shoulders and was walking her down the steps.

A round of cheers rose from the guards as they moved past them, and one shouted, "Good on you, Olav. Teach her who's boss."

Olav's shoulder dug into Rina's sternum, shoving the breath from her lungs. She kicked at the air, trying to unbalance herself. "Let me down, you fucking asshole." Flashes of light began moving before her.

A hand clamped down, holding her in place as they descended another set of stairs, and then she realised it was on her backside. Olav must-have, too, because his hand jerked and moved down to her thigh.

"I said, put me down!" she cried over and over and began to pound Olav's spine. He grunted but walked on toward the main hatch. She was shrieking now.

Olav hissed, "Enough, Rina. Stop making a bloody scene."

The air vibrated about her. "You think this is a scene? This is nothing—I can give you a real scene."

"I said, stop it."

She threw her head back. "No! Put me down. I can't go down there. I can't. Please."

He didn't stop, though Rina thought his knees buckled. Voices were cheering him on. No doubt, they were very close to that door leading down to a place where nothing but thin timber planks separated people from water and death.

"I said, no!" Rina hammered her fists again, a snap of power flicking from them, and Olav collapsed.

He moaned, hand pressing to the base of his back.

Oh, gods. Rina's heart almost leapt from her throat. She could barely see beyond the black spots across her vision as her hands fumbled over Olav, and she began a frantic prayer to Mai.

"Get away from him, you Arkis-spawned bitch." Someone hurled her away, and she landed with a bone-jarring thump on a looped pile of rope.

She'd no idea how long she lay there, but after a time she pushed up on her burning palms. Men rushed to Olav from about the ship. He had rolled to his side and propped himself on an elbow and now waved a hand and shook his head when people made to help.

Voices cursed and shouted. "The bitch!" "Arkis' whore!" "Throw her overboard!"

Her breath came in rapid gasps. Olav said nothing. She gulped—she was going to die.

An authoritative voice abruptly broke the uproar. "What's this?"

High black boots were the first thing Rina saw. Her eyes followed them up to fitted leather pants, and then her breath caught. It was Fin—but not as before. Gone was the armour, replaced by a white longsleeved shirt, unbuttoned to expose dark-blond curls. His stock hung loose and half dangling, and he wore a black, sleeveless overcoat and a vermillion baldrick strapped over his chest.

He turned to her, hand resting on his blade, his lips quirking to one side and those violet eyes dancing in the shade of a black tricorn hat.

Fin glanced at Olav, then swaggered over to Rina. His eyes captured her own, and he held them as he pinched the tip of each gloved finger with measured patience and tugged them from his right hand. As he faced the gathered crowd, he folded the glove neatly into his belt then brought his attention back to Rina. He extended his hand to her—just as he had done before on the cliffs. Zap! She withdrew her hand, but the charge remained. When she retook his hand, he pulled her to her feet like she weighed nothing.

His eyes swept over her, and her skin tingled. He combed a strand of hair behind her ear as he inspected her head for any injury. Perspiration trickled beneath her clothes, and she shivered, simultaneously hot and cold. He took her hands in his and, brows knitted together, examined the rope burns on her palms.

"Who did this?" Fin asked in a tone clearly directed to the men behind him as he prodded at her palm near a large splinter.

Silence.

A sigh escaped Fin. His hands moved to the top of her arms and squeezed. Then Rina flinched as he barked, eyes still on her, "I said, who did this?"

Murmurs sounded from behind them, feet shuffling. A portly Euran guard stepped forward, hands clasped behind his ramrod-straight back. "That bitch attacked my captain. She asked for it."

Rina bit the inside of her mouth. A vein was pulsing at her temple and flares zipped across her vision.

Fin pivoted to face the man, then back to Rina, his eyebrows raised and his head tilted. "Is this true?"

"No! Yes... He—he was forcing me downstairs—I didn't want to go, I—"

Her throat constricted at the thought of walking into that darkness. Under the waterline. What if they hit something? She'd heard of reefs. Or worse—even worse than the karkhar—the kraken sea monsters that twined their tentacles around ships and dragged them down. There were the tales of the syren, too, who rested their beautiful faces against the hull, and, with their sharp-teethed mouths, sung to those within, lulling them to jump overboard. She shuddered. More worrying, though, were those electric-charged clouds on the horizon. Dark and backlit with purple-tinged light. One bolt of lightning, that was all it would take.

Something softened in Fin's face, and he moved in close, voice lowered to a whisper. "I don't like it down there either—even after all these years." His breath was a caress. Fresh from chewing fennel seeds. "Would you like me to punish him? He deserves it."

How many Denese had that guard beaten in the past? The idea of him on his knees, flabby back bared, cat-o-nine-tails cracking across his flesh, the blood that would spill, all of it made Rina's breath hitch and saliva pool in her mouth. Gods, Fin was only a hairbreadth away. Her hands fisted. She didn't know if she wanted them in Fin's hair or pounding into the guard's face. She could already taste the blood, a metallic tang that made her tight and loose at the same time. Would the guard beg her forgiveness? She wanted him to. To crawl at her feet, begging and pleading. To offer her his lifeblood, his life force. His—

Oh, gods!

Rina backed away, her fist to her mouth, fighting down bile. What was happening to her? Was it the taint? Had it taken root so soon? She shook her head. Her body began to tremble.

"Rina?" Fin was before her, eyes wide with concern. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head."

"No, no, I'm fine."

He smiled at her and nodded. "Good. I'm relieved to hear." His hand stroked up and down her arm, making the skin tingle. "So... what would you like me to do?"

The fantasy returned—blood and shredded skin and a bad man's essence. She made a brief prayer to Mai, and then said, "No—I don't want to be like him."

Fin's lips stretched. "Not only a miracle but an angel as well. As you wish."

He left her and strolled to the guard. "One more time,' Fin said, forefinger jabbing the man's chest. "You touch her, or any other of my guests, one more time, and I'll flay your back open, personally."

The man blanched, face turning puce.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Olav had got to his feet and now loomed over Fin, fingers wrapped around his sword hilt.

Fin's eyes twinkled, and his mouth widened, revealing the tips of his canines. He fanned his arms and half-turned. "My ship, my rules."

"And I'm the new captain of the Nebia Guard. As such, I'm in charge of ensuring that my men, and the Magisterium's guests, arrive safely in Nebia."

"As am I, Captain of the Guard. A ship is no place for violence or disobedience. We have rules for a reason. Your men will obey them and do what I say, or they will face the same consequences as my own men." Fin reached his hand back to Rina and beckoned her.

Olav slapped Rina's hand away as she made to take Fin's. "This is a Magisterium business, Captain."

"She doesn't want to go below deck, and I don't want her traumatised more than she already has been. Mai wouldn't appreciate that, either, would he, Captain of the Guard?"

Olav's face turned red. " His men mumbled. One muttered, "That captain's an unnatural bastard. I saw him chasing her in the fields in Amadore, talking to her like she was a Euran lady and not a—"

A cough from Olav silenced the man, but not soon enough to prevent nausea that rolled through Rina. Her shoulders curled. She was tainted—and the man knew it. Not only that, she'd denied Mai. She shuffled her feet and fingered the lump on her chest where her crystal sat, trying to get up the courage to open herself to Mai again, even if it meant she would be too weak to stop them taking her below. She was barely aware of Fin's next words.

"From now on, we'll officially add insulting me, my crew, or Mai's particular guests to that list of punishable indiscretions, shall we?"

A shadow moved across the deck. Rina looked up to the forecastle where a tall blonde woman in the full-red robes of a senior magister stared cooly down at them. The Carnelian crystal on her silver diadem flashed in the sun as she nodded, once, then left.

"Ah, there we have it," Fin said. "I'll leave you to sort out your men, Captain of the Guard." Fin took Rina's hand, and something sparked again. He felt it too. She could tell by the slight pause in his stride as he pulled her toward the staircase.

When they stood before a pair of doors on the quarter-deck, Fin halted and said to Olav, "When your done, if you get bored, please feel welcome to help my men and I. I like to keep myself busy, and it would be my pleasure to show you the ropes before this storm hits us." With that, Fin opened a door and pulled Rina inside.

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A/N: Hi again. I can't thank you enough for reading. This is a first draft, so apologies for any clunkiness. I'd love your opinions on anything that could be improved. If you enjoyed it, please consider voting by pushing that star!

Jas oxox

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Dedicated to cjreywrites for being a supportive and inspiring reader and for inspiring me with that wonderful imagination of yours!