Princess at Sea by Dawn Cook Page A

“Don’t,” I warned, and one grinned to show yellow teeth in the torchlight.
    Taking one of my last daggers, I flipped it, ready to throw, warning him again. He glanced at the knife, then leered, beckoning me closer.
    â€œPrick me with your little knife, love,” he taunted. “I’ve got my own dagger I’ll be sticking you with.”
    Repulsed, I threw it, gagging as it hit him in the throat.
    I never saw him go down. The other two men lunged, arms outstretched.
    I backpedaled. My heels found Contessa, and shrieking, I fell. Feet kicking, I rolled, my hand pulling my whip free from my waist as I rose.
    Contessa screamed. Pulse pounding, I spun. She had gone back to Duncan and was unhurt. “You won’t touch her!” I shouted, uncoiling my whip and sending it to crack in the air.
    A sharp cry from Alex jerked my attention. A man had scored on him, and the prince was down on one knee. “Alex!” Contessa exclaimed, lurching past Duncan. I jerked her to a halt, pushing her to Duncan, then flicked my whip at the two men approaching. They fell back at the sharp sound, their ugly looks worse for the flickering torchlight.
    â€œTess! There!” Contessa cried, and I followed her gaze to Alex, down with a man grappling with him. Heart pounding, I sent the whip to strike his attacker.
    The man howled, rolling off Alex. Duncan swooped forward to drag the prince to us. Contessa knelt beside him, her face pale. I spared them a quick glance. He seemed all right, his words soft and reassuring as he got to his feet, his free hand never leaving Contessa’s grip.
    I flicked the whip to coil behind me, looking over the deck to find the pirates had fallen back to the limit of my reach.
    â€œYou afraid of a woman with a bit of string?” Captain Rylan shouted from the safety of the wheel. “Get them below you sons of chulls. What am I paying you for?”
    One of the men took a step forward. I spun the whip over my head and brought it cracking down before him. The man retreated, his face ugly. “Captain?” one called, sounding almost frightened. A satisfied smile came over me. The waves lifted the deck, and I rode the swells easily, my feet spread wide. Maybe. Maybe we had a chance.
    From behind the wheel, Mr. Smitty frowned. The torchlight landed on his face, showing me his ire. Never taking his eyes from mine, he spun the wheel.
    â€œComing about!” he shouted, with enough force to carry over storms.
    The pirates sent their eyes to the rigging. I followed their gaze. The sails started to flutter, then rattled as the ship turned into the wind. Under my feet, the deck evened out.
    â€œTess!” Contessa cried, looking over my shoulder. “Look out!”
    I turned. Out of the dark came the boom carrying the bottom of the mainsail. It swung with the force of the wind, unstoppable. Gasping, I ducked. White-hot fire exploded. I cried out, not hearing it. I didn’t remember falling, but the deck struck my cheek, cold and bruising.
    â€œTess!” I heard my sister cry, and the sounds of renewed battle.
    A belled boot slammed into my middle, and I caved in on myself, unable to breathe, unable to think, drifting in the neverworld on the edge of consciousness.
    â€œNow that,” I heard Captain Rylan say, “is the proper way to bring down a sea whore.”

Five

    I think it was the smell that woke me, a rank, back-of-the- throat stench that caught in my nose and carried the scent of rat urine and wet moldy burlap sacks to my tongue. The gentle rolling and the sound of booted and bare feet on the deck above me had long ago become familiar—too familiar to wake me. And I knew it wasn’t the pain that pulled me from unconsciousness. Pain had been a part of my existence for so long, it no longer had the power to tell me something was wrong.
    My stomach hurt, and my lower ribs ached when I breathed too deeply. There was a raw feeling where the air