Shove down weakness and strength will rise.
The innkeeper’s voice rises up in me, but this time, I hear it in my own voice, feel it in the pinching of my back.
I could let Zakir West’s men take me. I could give in to Barden East.
East and West.
Two directions, both of which will leave me to drift in hopelessness.
Or…
My head turns, gaze latching onto the people walking along the dock, at the boats floating on the water. At the sun on the cerulean sail shining against the sky like my own personal lodestar.
And right now, in this moment, I seize it like it’s a sign from the goddesses.
So I turn around and run.
I run like I’ve never run in my entire life. My feet pound against the boardwalk, skirt whipping around my legs, hair flying back with my hood.
I can hear shouts, but it just makes me go faster, my steps avoiding the merchants and sailors that I pass, darting around them when I leap onto the dock.
My too-tight boots punish my toes as my feet pound against the timeworn wood, my lungs burning from the demand of my sprint, but I don’t stop.
Not even when my foot catches on a rolling cart, nearly sending it and me toppling over. Not even when the merchant curses me while several others turn to look. I just keep going, eyes set on the closest boat on the dock and its rope being untwined from the post.
I can make it…I have to make it.
Please let me make it.
The trip up with the cart lost me precious seconds—precious distance—so I don’t dare chance a look over my shoulder. I can’t afford to look. Every second, every step, counts.
“Stop!” one of Zakir’s men shouts.
But I won’t stop, not now, when I’ve finally decided to try.
One more pounded step along the dock, and then, I jump.
I jump right for the little boat already starting to row away, for the small open space right at the back of it.
For a moment, both time and my body seem to suspend.
And then I hit feet-first in a landing that shoots pain up both legs. I nearly topple overboard, capsizing the boat with me, but surprised shouts ring out, and the people I’ve unceremoniously joined manage to hold it steady before it can tip.
A man with a weather-worn face and sunspots along his cheeks snarls at me as he grabs my arm. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, girl?”
“Just throw her over, Hock!” another man in the boat says.
“No! Please!”
Hock ignores me, of course, and starts to yank my arm, but he pauses when a voice says, “Stop.”
The man and I freeze, both turning to look at the woman sitting at the front of the boat, a pair of oars clasped in her hands. She’s tall, and has chin-length brown hair shorn crooked, and a hard face in blotches of pink and peel.
“Why are you all gold?” she questions boldly.
“Oh, um.” I fumble for a moment before saying, “Some of the saddles here paint themselves. Drives up customers.”
She lets out a scoff but continues to row, as if she’s not even bothered that a painted girl just practically leapt in her lap.
Shouts from the dock have me whipping my head back to see Zakir’s men skid to a stop, their arms waving as they shout for the boat to turn around and return me. My stomach roils at the look on their faces, and one of them starts to rip off his shirt, like he’s going to dive in and get me.
“You trying to escape, gold girl?” the woman asks, drawing my attention back to her.
Her brown eyes are without warmth, but they don’t hold cruelty either. She looks like the sort of person who shoots straight.
“Yes, but I can pay,” I answer quickly. “Please. Just take me to your ship, and I’ll ask your captain for passage. I’m not a stowaway. I have coin for the trip.”
Her shoulders roll, heaving the oars back, continuing to row us along. A splash behind me sends my heart racing, and I know that one of Zakir’s goons is swimming toward me.
“Mara…” the other man in the boat cautions.
“Quiet,” she barks, still looking at me with a tilt of her head. “How much you got?”
I swallow hard, darting a look at all three of them. “Enough.”
I know better than to tell them how much or to reach for my coin pouch in front of anyone.
A smirk creases her face. “Not stupid, then. That’s good.”
I can hear the steady splashes through the water, and I cut another nervous glance over my shoulder, seeing the man getting closer, though it’s clear he’s not much of a swimmer.
After another moment, Mara says, “You pay for passage, but you won’t be idle, neither. You’ll scrub the floorboards every day till we get to Second Kingdom. We need a new scrubber anyway.”