Alli shifted uncomfortably. She glanced down at the floor, where the first mate was turned away from her. She could only see his hair from her position on the bed.

Sighing, she turned back over. After a moment, she sighed again. She wasn't tired. She wanted to do something. This was the damn Avourienne; she should be doing something incredible at every moment.

Alli had all these stars in her head and didn't know what to do with them. She couldn't write them down because then Silta would have no need to keep her around. Everything was foggy and full and annoying.

Tossing aside the covers, Alli carefully swung her legs over the side. The first mate's room was large and luxurious—much nicer than her hammock aboard the Kipperly and even nicer than her shared room with Shuri aboard the Myriad.

Alli attempted to be quiet as she stepped over the first mate, watching his chest rise and fall with deep breaths. His face was relaxed, and his mouth was parted only a little. She tried to be quiet, painfully aware of how skilled the man must be in order to land his position.

And skilled he was, for when she finally stepped around him, he jolted awake, reaching for her ankle and pulling it out from under her. With a silent groan of frustration, Alli tumbled to the ground at his feet.

"The hell are you doing?" he asked, his voice cracking from sleep. He sat up, blinking twice.

"I just wanted water," Alli snapped back, pulling her ankle from his grip and shuffling back. She got to her feet and tried to reach for the door, but the first mate stumbled up quickly, his movements slowly morphing from tired to calculated. He smacked her hand from the door.

"I'll get it for you," he told her, twisting the doorknob and shouldering her back into the room.

"I can get my own water!" Alli seethed at his smothering. She was tired of being treated like a kid. Sure, she was young—but she was the same age as Kingsley, and no one treated him like this.

Rolling his eyes in frustration rather than fear, the first mate—Silta called him Britter—glanced back at her through the doorframe. "I have no doubts about your capability of getting water," he said, his voice tired. "But I'm not supposed to let you leave this room at night."

"What, you think I'm going to jump?" Alli asked him. "My Captain is in the cells of this ship. I'm not going anywhere."

"My Captain is upstairs and no offence, Laurier, but I'd rather take your fury than hers. Just stay in the room. I'll get your damn water."

Frustrated, Alli pushed by him through the doorframe and into the dark hallway. When Alli first boarded the Avourienne, Britter constantly shoved her around. But now, he seemed like he was slightly more hesitant to touch her, for whatever reason. Alli knew he'd let her by.

"Laurier." Britter hurried after her onto the deck, moonlight spilling over the black wood.

"Britter," she said back, making her way to the kitchen. It was dark in there, so she reached for a match and one of the candles. When she struggled to light it with her chilled fingers, Britter let out an annoyed sigh and took it from her.

The room lit into a low light, the firelight dancing. Alli made her way toward the water barrels in the back of the room.

"Hurry up, Laurier."

Alli turned around to face him. "She's asleep," she told him. "And she's not going to punish you for letting me get water."

Britter glanced back out the door, his jaw working. He looked on edge, as though he'd suddenly got a bad feeling.

"Captain's told me stories 'bout you," Alli began, turning back towards the water. "Seems like you're the one person on this ship he's okay with talking about."

Britter didn't seem to be listening. He glanced back towards the door.

"He painted you out to be fun. Lively. You're not either," Alli finished, bringing the water to her lips.

Britter glanced back at her, impatient. He snapped twice and said, "Drink faster."

"You'd think being first mate for the most powerful ship in the seas would be a rather fun job," Alli continued. "You act like you wish you were anywhere else."

Britter took a step towards her, his eyes still on the door. "Something's off," he mumbled.

His words started a shiver down Alli's spine, but she forced herself to shake it off. "You've got a feeling, do you? Or are you just trying to scare me back to sleep?"

Britter took another step forward, holding his hand out towards her. "Get over here, Laurier. Now. Move."

Alli didn't argue this time. His voice held an edge that was impossible to ignore. She took a step forward, carefully. Something was off.

The candle blew out, and Alli could see nothing but darkness.

"Britter," she whispered, her hands beginning to shake.

Something was off.

Fingers curled around her wrist, calloused and heavy—Britter's. "I'm here," he said. "Can you find the door?"

But as Alli stepped forward to find it, hands wrapped around her neck from behind, pulling her backward. She had nothing else to offer but a stiff yell before her breathing was cut off. She stumbled into something behind her—someone—who had their hands around her neck.

Britter held tight to her wrist, yanking her back. He followed her wrist up to her shoulder, unable to see her in the dark. His hands found the ones around her neck.

Alli could feel the person behind her was big. Much bigger than her. Instinctively, she reached up to the arms and dug her nails in, drawing blood. There was a grunt from behind her.

Britter got the hands off her neck, and Alli gasped for air. She tripped and fell to the ground, groping for something solid in the dark.

There was a loud noise behind her as Britter dealt with whatever the hell had attacked her. Alli immediately got her bearings, trusting the first mate to be able to kill that thing.

A crash sounded, and Britter stumbled into the doorway, pushing it open and tumbling to the ground with a noisy thump. Moonlight flooded into the room, and Alli's eyes darted to him. His eyes were closed, his body limp.

He was unconscious.

With a fresh wave of terror, Alli crawled hand over hand to the door, her veins simmering with fear. She felt the wind from a body behind her. Her heart stumbled.

Something took her by the ankles, dragging her backwards. She screamed as loud as she could before hands found her mouth and covered it.

She kicked and punched out as much as possible. The hands pulled her up and forced her against the wall.

The moonlight bathed his face—just a man, not a monster. In Alli's blurring vision, the only trait of his she could compartmentalize was his eyes, black as the hull of the Avourienne. So black she couldn't tell the difference between the pupil and the iris.

Struggling, Alli tried desperately to save herself, gasping for air she couldn't reach. She helplessly looked to Britter, still unconscious on the ground.

She realized she was going to die. Her entire life was about to be taken from her. She should never have admitted she'd memorized the map. She should've never told Silta. She'd just so badly wanted to see this ship. To know Silta, to impress Kingsley.

And after all that—because of all that—Alli was going to die.

Still, she fought, unwilling to give up. She tried to bite and claw and push and kick but nothing would work. The air was impossible to reach. She was going to die.

And then the weight was off her, and she could breathe again. Gasping for air once more, she tumbled to the ground next to Britter, tears spilling from her eyes.

After a crashing noise, Alli heard a voice.

"Hi, love. It just never ends, does it?" Alli recognized the husky tone as Silta. She'd pushed them to the darkness beyond the door, so Alli couldn't see the Captain or the man in the darkness.

"Do what you do best, Novari. He'll be back." That voice was new. Alli assumed it came from the man. It was low and inviting. Dark and devilish. Coated with humour. Charismatic, perhaps, if one enjoyed the thrill of violence.

There was another thump in the darkness—the sound of knuckles on a jaw.

One last crack, and Alli heard the sound of a body hitting the floor.

Silta stepped out of the shadows, unhurried. She glanced at Alli on the ground, who stayed frozen, unable to move with terror. Was it a ghost? Some terrifying reincarnation of someone? Alli felt her heart only speed up.

Silta turned back towards the now-dead man, leaning down to reach under his arms. She dragged the body from the shadows, but Alli didn't want to look.

Silta didn't acknowledge Alli as she dragged the body out onto the deck, not caring that she had to foot Britter out of the way. She got to the rail and used her knees to heft the body over—a rather impressive feat.

Alli crawled over to the door, hearing the splash of the body connecting with water. She felt blood coming from her nose.

Silta was back in the doorway. She nudged Britter with her foot. His head rolled to the side. She knelt down.

"Liam," she said. He stayed unconscious.

"Who was that?" Alli's voice came out as a whisper of her previous confidence.

Silta glanced up at her, seeming to remember she was there. "Somebody who wants my map dead," she said.

"That was quite clear," Alli snapped. "I meant a name."

Silta waved her hand and nudged Britter again. His eyes began to flutter. "You wouldn't know his name," she said.

Britter let out a low moan, his head turning to the side. Blood streamed down his left cheekbone.

"Good morning, love," Silta told him, nudging him with her foot again.

Britter began to sit up, the blood pouring. He reached up to touch his head. His blue eyes found Alli, then turned back to Silta. "What the hell was that?" Britter muttered, more to himself than anything else.

"A friend." Silta leaned down to him, helping him up by threading her arms under his. He stumbled to his feet.

"She just wanted water," Britter told the Captain, his voice quiet. "I went with her. You told me to go with her everywhere. I did."

Silta glanced at him. Her gaze made Alli want to sweat.

"I swear I tried my best," Britter insisted, "but it was so dark I couldn't even see their face. I swear—"

"I'm not mad, love. Stop swearing"

Britter searched her eyes. "Your map almost died. Because I got knocked out. But you're not mad."

She waved a hand again. "Not mad." She pointed to his head. "You want me to stitch that for you? Miller's asleep."

Britter glanced back at Alli, as if trying to confirm that Silta not being mad wasn't only in his head. "Yeah," he said, turning back to Silta.

Silta turned, gesturing for Britter to follow. He looked back at Alli, nudging his head forward to get her to go first.

Dizzy, Alli moved past him, following Silta up the balcony steps. She entered the captain's quarters and behind her, Britter shut the door.

The captain's quarters were already lit, the black furniture and crimson curtains dim in the night. Silta opened the door to the bedroom and disappeared.

Alli turned to Britter. Blood ran into his mouth and his hands were red.

"Who was that?" she asked again.

"Somebody who wants you dead," Britter replied, leaning against the desk.

Alli rolled her eyes. "A name?"

Britter glanced at her. He had closed one eye as the blood began to spill over his brow. Even in such a state, he was still one of the most piercing men Alli had ever seen. His lips curled as he spoke, "I don't know the name, Laurier."

Alli didn't understand. If only Silta knew the name, why was Britter even bothering to stay loyal when she wouldn't tell anybody anything?

Silta appeared back out of the room, a box in her hand. She set it down on the desk and folded a leg over the wood. She spun a needle in her fingers and threaded it through thin string. Before she brought it to Britter's cut, she took out a cloth and tossed it to Alli. Britter took one for himself, soaking the blood that continued to run.

Alli wiped the blood from her nose. Silta brought the needle to Britter's face.

"Careful with that," he told her, eyes following the needle.

"You know I've got good fingers," she answered.

Britter sighed and looked back at Alli. He winced as Silta pierced his skin with the needle.

"How did you get there so fast," he asked, accusation thick in his tone, "if you were asleep?"

Silta pulled the needle away and threaded it back through. Alli saw how still her hands were. "Wasn't asleep," she replied.

Britter turned quickly to look at her and grimaced when she stuck him with the needle.

"Your fault," she told him, turning his face back forward.

"You're going to get sick from not sleeping, Nova. That can happen," Britter said, as if this wasn't a new subject. He was speaking to her like they were friends.

Silta didn't respond, and Britter kept his head straight. He looked at Alli. Uncomfortable with his gaze, Alli turned around, wiping the last of blood from her face.

"Would Kingsley know who that was? Or who sent them?" Alli asked, turning back around to regard Silta.

For her part, Silta stayed focused on the needle. She said nothing.

"He doesn't know," Britter answered for her. Then to Silta, "He'll figure it out, Nova. You know that. He's always been quicker than I am."

"Don't worry about that," Silta replied, threading the needle through again. "Kingsley won't know unless I tell him."

"Then tell him," Britter told her, anger thick in his tone. "Laurier should be with Kingsley. Not with me. Archer's better; he can keep her safer than I can."

"Does it matter?" Alli spoke up. "Whoever attacked me is dead. Very dead. Am I not safe now? Is there more?"

Silta snorted. Britter frowned at her. "What?" he asked, frustrated.

Silta tied the final knot and brought her hands away. She patted Britter on the head. "All good to go. Pretty as ever."

Britter shrugged away from her. "Laurier should be with Kingsley."

"Laurier is no safer with Kingsley," Silta replied. "Speaking of which." She turned around dramatically and pointed to the door.

Alli and Britter glanced at the door. Then back at Silta.

"Give him a second," Silta told them, her hands still pointed at the door.

A second went by. Nothing. Another second, and Kingsley burst through the door, face flushed.

"What happened?" He immediately made his way to Alli.

Alli glanced at Silta. It was far past midnight—the early hours of the morning. Kingsley shouldn't be up, and the cell doors locked at night.

"Somebody attacked me," Alli told him, staying still as he moved her head around to assess the damage. He tilted her chin up to see the bruises forming on her neck. While he inspected her, he gave her a good close-up of himself.

Alli had a...thing for beautiful people. It wasn't necessarily a romantic thing, just a thing. She felt drawn to it, if only to understand why they got to look like they did while she looked so ordinary. She'd always assumed that beauty corresponded to success, and looking at those traits in this room, she was in no place to change her assumptions now.

Kingsley looked to Silta, his eyes full of something Alli couldn't place. "Laurier should be with me," he told the Captain. "She should be with me and not with Britter."

Silta packed up the box and walked towards the room. "If Laurier goes with you, lover, then you both stay in the cells." She disappeared again into her room, her voice muffling. "But then again, you keep getting out of the cells. Can't have been my pin again...are you flirting with Starle? I knew he was a bad idea for a guard."

Kingsley glanced at Britter.

"I'm doing my best, Archer," Britter told him. "But whoever that was—they were good. Very good. Better than you, I think."

Kingsley glanced up as Silta reappeared. "Then she stays with you."

Silta shook her head. "Laurier is annoying. Don't want her with me."

"You're the only one that can properly protect her."

"Annoying."

Kingsley threw up his hands, exasperated. "At least don't lock the cells at night. If I hear something, I can be there immediately instead of spending the last ten minutes picking a lock with calcified dirt."

Silta pointed at him. She said nothing.

Kingsley looked back at Silta. He looked down to his chest where she was pointing. Then he looked back up.

After a long minute of pointing, Silta spoke, "You can have the corner room." She turned around again, heading back to her own room. "If I find you out and Laurier is not currently getting killed, I'll put you back in the cells with fewer extremities than before."

Kingsley let out a breath. "Thank you."

"Dim, Kingsley. You're not nearly as brilliant as you once were."

All three of them looked towards Silta, attempting to decipher the words, but she disappeared into her room for the final time.

Kingsley looked at Britter. He looked at Alli. Kingsley's eyes stayed on the captain's door for only a moment before he turned quickly and left.

Alli looked at Britter. He stood off the desk and jutted his head to the door. Alli moved in front of him, ignoring the hand he placed on her back to guide her. Before, she would've shrugged it off, annoyed with that stupid thing men always did, but something about him lying unconscious on the deck had startled her. She'd felt some sort of safety with him—from him. But he wasn't as untouchable as he'd seemed.

They walked back down the balcony steps, his hand still on her. Alli opened the door to the first mate's room and walked inside.

Behind her, Britter locked the door and sighed, taking up his spot on the floor again.

Alli glanced at him. "You can have the bed," she told him. "You're injured."

He rolled onto his side. "I'm fine."

"You have four stitches in your head."

"Go to sleep, Laurier. I'm tired of you. I'm tired of having you and your damn life on my hands. I'm tired of you arguing. I'm tired." He was out of view of Alli, but she knew from the tone in his voice that he was truly over it now.

Alli swallowed. She felt a little bad. Just as soon as it appeared, it disappeared. It wasn't her fault she got into this mess. It wasn't her fault at all.

"Maybe if you had less blind faith in a captain who is very clearly out of her mind, you wouldn't be in this situation either," Alli said daringly—but Alli had always been daring.

Britter sat up. He regarded her for a moment. The cut on his head was jagged and ugly.

Alli lost her nerve.

"You can talk back to me, Laurier, and I won't touch you. You can be annoying, and I won't hurt you. But you mention her like that again, and you're going to beg to room with Kingsley."

Alli swallowed again. So he was loyal. Very loyal. So was Alli. It wasn't that she didn't like Silta—Alli admired her quite a lot, actually. She was just in the mood to berate somebody.

"I think you're uptight. You're uptight and worried all the time and it's ruining my experience. Kingsley said you were fun," she insisted.

Britter closed his eyes for a moment, calming himself like pirates never did. He opened them again. "Kingsley used to be fun, too. Silta used to be exhilarating. Starle used to be happy. Courtley used to keep his mouth shut. Rusher used to swear less." He took a deep breath. "You know what happened to us, Laurier?"

Alli stayed silent.

"Our Captain—the man we trusted for our entire lives aboard this ship—was murdered. You didn't know him, so you don't get to tell us what it feels like to lose a figure like that. He was murdered, and we have no one to take out our anger on because the man that killed him is down the hall—someone we trusted and were loyal to all the same. Do you see the frustration, Laurier? Do you see the problem?"

Alli stayed silent.

"I used to be fun. Silta used to be sane. And Kingsley used to be anything but a murderer."

He stopped for a moment again, his eyes not breaking their gaze. Alli felt exposed under his beautiful eyes. "I used to be fun," he repeated. "Now I'm just tired. Please, Laurier, go to sleep and by the Devil, leave me alone." He laid back down, his eyes set on the ceiling.

Alli wanted to apologize. To reach down to him and put a hand on his face and tell him it would be okay. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, tell him she was sorry he was broken. It took all her strength not to.

Alli was drawn to beautiful people. She always thought that if she surrounded herself with beauty, she'd become it, too. That if beautiful people liked her, that made her beautiful, too.

That insecurity had softened when she realized the power her memory had, but the urge to understand what lay beneath a person's looks remained. It was what drew her to Kingsley, what made her so incredibly enthralled by Silta, why she longed to know about Captain Bardarian, and why she wanted to fix Britter. He was hurting and ruined and Alli liked to fix people. She liked to think she fixed people.

But Alli couldn't find the words to fix him. She didn't know how.

So she climbed onto the bed and snuggled under the covers, frustrated.

And when she slept, she dreamed of fixing Liam Britter. But once she had truly drifted into a deep, dark sleep, she dreamed of black eyes.