Spellcasters

Chapter 7

Maylis groaned. The wooden floor felt like it was floating. Sunlight crashed through her eyelids, but she couldn't remember where she was. Rough hands shook her shoulders and a familiar person leant over her.

"Get up miss," said Dragin. "What do you think you were doing?"

Dazed, Maylis glanced around. She must have passed out but couldn't remember why until she tried to move her legs. Pain radiated from her feet to her knees. Nausea gripped at her throat and her head lolled back. Dragin swore loudly, attracting the attention of several people passing by who approached with intent to blame him for Maylis' condition.

"I'm not attacking her," Dragin argued with them, but they didn't understand. One of the onlookers accused her of being drunk. Maylis was reminded of the way Brennan would often sprawl out on the deck of the ship after one too many and felt ashamed. Did she look that bad?

"It's alright," she spoke to them in English. "He's a friend." At least she hoped he was trustworthy enough of the title. The onlookers backed away.

"I need to find Rory," said Maylis. "The crew-"

"Will be in touch, I'm sure," said Dragin. "Come back to the house, change your bandages and have something to eat. It won't be much I'm afraid."

"I'm used to having not very much."

"Then you should feel right at home with us." Dragin helped Maylis to her feet.

"It's no use," she gasped. "I can't walk like this."

Dragin looked remorseful. She suspected he was acting out of guilt and though Maylis appreciated the concern, she wasn't used to having somebody fussing over her. She had always been in control. She looked after herself.

Maylis unravelled the bandages that were thinly wrapped around each foot before dangling them off the edge of the docks, plunging them into the cooling water. Gripping the side of the walkway, her knuckles went white as she fought against the sharp sting of salt sinking into her wounds. Dragin sat next to her, looking at the sea as if he hated it. They sat in silence for a while until footsteps clonked behind them. Like prey sensing an imminent threat, Dragin turned his head sharply.

"It's been a long time," said Ravenesca.

It was her. Maylis froze. The woman responsible for her mother's death was standing in front of her. She didn't know what to do. Half of her wanted to jump up and tear the flesh from Ravenesca's face. The other half wanted to run.

"How did you find me?" Dragin stood up.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself," she replied. "I haven't been stalking you. I just spotted you from across the way and thought I'd say hello." Dragin did not look convinced. "In any case, it's wonderful to see I'm not the only one who managed to escape the abyss."

"Is Blaise with you?" said Dragin.

Ravenesca sighed. "He was. We broke through the abyss a few weeks back. Been living on that island. You know the one I mean. I hear you attacked that ship. Another one of your accidents?"

Dragin slumped his shoulders. "We must be on our way. Can you stand?"

Maylis hurriedly wrapped the bandages around her sopping wet feet. She looked up at Ravenesca as calmly as she could, hoping not to be recognised. But she had to ask. She had to know if Rory was safe.