Hunt On Dark Waters

Once upon a time, the realms used to be much closer to each other. People and creatures could jump them easily, which is where a lot of stories of myths and monster come from. No one knows what happened to make crossing all but impossible, only that it was a very long time ago. So many generations have passed that people have stopped wondering.

 But…Threshold? A realm that’s still connected to every other realm in existence? The possibilities make my palms itch. 

The captain shoves open a door and the light dims as we leave the deck. I honestly don’t know what I expected. Nothing about this ship matches expectations for…pirates? I’m not sure if this crew even qualifies as pirates as I recognize them.

Cool air brushes my bare skin and wet clothes and makes me shiver. The captain sets me on my feet and I waste no time looking around.  There’s a large desk near a trio of massive windows that look out over the water and the wake of the ship’s passing. Polished wood floors. A door on either side of the room.

It’s bigger than I expected, and I pause to take in the space again. I’m no architect but I’m certain the walls go well past where the end of the ship should be. Is this a pocket realm? But then how is it looking out at the water we’ve just sailed through?

My attention goes to the desk. It’s not made of any wood I recognize and the surface shimmers a little. Magic? I try to take a step forward but I’m still bound with the captain’s power.

I glare at him. Gods, but he’s even more attractive now than he was when I first opened my eyes. Dark hair that’s just long enough to be termed roguish. A nice square jaw that probably shatters the fists of anyone who tries to punch him. A well-muscled body that is obviously used to hard work, clothed in fitted pants, a loose black shirt with a V that gives a tantalizing glimpse of a broad chest sprinkled with hair, and a duster I want to steal right off his back. His eyes are almost as dark as Lizzie’s… No, best not to think about Lizzie or how furious she looked when I saw her last. How murderous.

If I can get through a different portal, I really will be beyond her grasp.

I tuck the thought away. It’s a potential plan for the future, but first I have to navigate this mess I’ve found myself in. 

The captain surveys me with a critical eye, his expression all forbidding lines that do not give me a thrill. “If I remove your gag, will you behave?”

Absolutely not. I try to look sincere as I nod. He doesn’t seem convinced, but the power wedging my jaw shut eases. I open and close my mouth a few times. It doesn’t actually hurt—he was remarkably gentle with superior control—but I’ll take any drop of guilt I can dredge up. It’s an excellent lever to get people to do what you want.