Lions and Lambs

Chapter 6

Sabine

They walked through alleys and cobbled streets until the sun kissed the horizon and turned the ocean yellow. Sabine stared at the large ships bobbing on the waves with tired eyes, her whole body sagging as she struggled to keep up with Cassian. He had spoken no more that night, instead moving to lead her to the docks where she assumed his promised ship awaited them.

Every step she took sounded like the cocking of a pistol, and every time she blinked her eyelids flashed red. A startling numbness had spread in her chest and brain and creeped through her like a glacier, methodically freezing everything that it brushed against.

Sabine jumped at the faint touch of Cassian's hand on her shoulder. She looked up with wide, unblinking eyes. She was seeing him in the full light of day for the first time, and something about the sun and the seagulls squawking made him look a great deal less threatening. The shadows had disappeared for the most part, and with their absence his eyes had lightened to gray and the iris's shrunk until they were almost normal once again. He was still striking in a way that wasn't normal, and he moved with preternatural grace.

"Stay here," he murmured, eyes darting over her shoulder.

Sabine was still too intimidated to argue, so she nodded and tried to shrink as far into herself as possible. Cassian eyed her for one second longer, then turned on his heel and strode towards the small wooden boathouse near the docks. Despite his only clothes being a stained white undershirt, a pair of loose pants, and a generally haggard appearance, no one even glanced at him.

She couldn't imagine where he might get the money needed for a trip to Klev after being in prison for so long, though now that she thought of it, she had no idea how long he had been there. Or for what reason. In fact, he never did answer her question. The events of last night suggested that he was much more extraordinary than a human man, but Sabine knew little of magic, at least if that was what he used. Every time she might have mentioned it around the house, Step-mother would spit on the ground and tell her that it was sinful to ever speak of such impurities.

Sabine stood in the middle of the awakening docks, her heart peculiarly numb against what should have been the ache of loss. Instead she felt nothing; no excitement at the sight of ships and ships lined up in the sea like a row of proud ducklings waiting to be inspected, no desire to eavesdrop in the intense conversations between sailor and passenger.

Every so often she would forget where she was and what she was doing, and a panicked thought would appear in her brain that she better hurry home before Step-mother woke up. But by now her home was likely a pile of charred ash and four bullets.

Nausea rose in her throat without warning and threatened to overwhelm her. Sabine staggered to the side and fell to her knees in front of a bundle of discarded crates, ignoring the annoyed mutters of bystanders that she had interrupted. Sabine heaved into the crates, her fingernails digging into the rough wood of the deck as if it would collapse beneath her knees like sand and suck her down. Unfortunately, as she was beginning to realize, the world didn't give a rat's ass about poor newly orphaned girls.

Sabine closed her eyes tight and shifted back on her knees. The early morning light was beginning to give her a headache and the ripe smell of fish filled the air with its cloying perfume.

A large hand closed around her upper arm and yanked her up as if she weighed less than a feather. Sabine gasped in pain and reared against whatever creature had just grabbed her. The hand released her before she could regain her bearings, and she stumbled back into the pile of rotten crates, their weak boards crunching painfully against her spine.