I twist around, searching for her. But there’s only stardust swirling around me, weaving in and out, thickening like an ocean fog, muffling the world out.
And then, there it is again—that figure. It’s closer now, close enough that I can see the way it stands, the shape of it so much like her, the same steady stance, but… but how can she be both there and… here?
“Miss Captain?” I whisper.
The figure shouts my name, just like she would. My heart hammers against my ribs as I blink, trying to make sense of it, but then the shape wavers, dissolving like smoke in the wind. And then—oh gods—something brushes against my leg.
I let out a shriek that echoes through the silence, slapping a hand over my mouth, cursing myself for sounding like a scared child. But terror still grips me, my pulse thundering so fast I can barely hear my own breath.
Then, finally, I hear her voice again, close, real. “Vini!” She’s there, gripping my leg, covered in dust, her face smudged, hair wild. She’s looking up at me like she’s barely got her bearings.
“Oh gods, Miss Captain!” I yelp, barely managing to keep the wobble out of my voice. “Are you alright?”
She catches her breath, glancing down and brushing off bits of grit, her voice low and rough. “Alright?” Her eyes flash as she stands, hands on her hips. “I tell you to keep your eyes on me, and what do you do? Why the fuck did you run like this?”
“Me?” I stammer, stomach flipping. “Wait, what?”
Her eyes narrow, arms crossing over her chest, and I finally notice the angry red scratches marking her forearms. Oh gods. Did I… did I do that?
“Vinicola,” she snaps, her voice sharp enough to cut through the panic buzzing in my head. “Look at me.” She’s furious. And maybe worried. But all I can focus on is her stare, her words slicing through the haze in my mind as I scramble to pull myself together.
“There was… a figure,” I breathe out, the words tumbling faster than I can catch them. “I saw it. Over there.” I point, hoping she sees it too, that she’ll nod and say ah yes,the mysterious shadow, and everything will be fine.
But she stiffens, her expression hardening instantly. “A figure?”
“Yes!” I nod eagerly. “It was you—or at least it looked like you, just standing there, watching me. And then when I looked again, it started to… dissolve. And then you weren’t there, and I thought—“
Before I can finish, she lunges forward, her hands clamping down on my shoulders, and every thought I had flees. I’m frozen, her grip as solid as iron, her heartbeat thrumming through her fingers. “Vini,” she says, her voice low. “Listen to me. There was no figure. Nowhere. You just… ran. Bolted out of nowhere. Whatever you think you saw? It’s not real. Not here. Not now.”
I blink, trying to make sense of it. “No figure?” I repeat, even though I know what I saw. It was there, moving toward me. I could swear it.
Her fingers tighten just a fraction, her gaze burning into mine. “No,” she says firmly. “It’s just you and me here, V.”
I nod, swallowing against the unease that’s still tangled inside me. I want to believe her—she’s got no reason to lie—but the image lingers, flickering at the edges of my mind. It’s still there, like a ghost in my bones.
But if she’s right… if there really was nothing… then it only means one thing.
My own mind’s turned traitor on me.
“What shall we do, Miss Captain?” I ask. I can see it in her eyes that she knows what I mean.
She glances down, brushes the dust from her hands, and then, without a moment’s pause, rips her sleeve clean off. She doesn’t look at me, just holds the torn fabric out. “Tie your wrist to mine,” she orders, her tone leaving no room for argument.
My eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, you mean… literally tether myself to you?”
“Yes, for the love of the sea! Just do it. Now.”
I take the strip of fabric, hands fumbling a bit as I wrap it around our wrists, knotting it tight. Her skin, dark and warm,presses against mine under the moonlight, and somehow, that tiny point of contact steadies me. My heart, thundering seconds ago, calms just a bit. Strange, that.
“There,” she says, testing the knot with a tug. “Now, no matter what happens, we keep moving. Together.”
“Yes, Miss Captain,” I murmur.
And oh, did I mention that my mother would throw a feast for her? No, no, scratch that—she’s going to throw feasts for a whole week straight. A parade, even! This woman is my divine intervention.
She could leave me here—Gypsy could. She should, probably. I’m scared out of my mind half the time, my muscles are about as useful as wet parchment, and if I’m being truthful, I’d wager I’m the single most annoying soul in our crew. It would be all too easy to let me wander off and call it bad luck.
But Miss Captain ties my hand to hers and walks beside me. Just like that.
