Getting on board the ship was easy enough, she simply waited until no one was looking and ducked into one of the empty crates, and then was carried on board. Once she heard no more footsteps, she climbed out and headed down into the depths of the ship where she found herself a dry corner and watched the flickering lights coming from the levels above, the sound of the wood protesting and the water trying to get in.
It was an odd sensation to be on a ship and not be afraid for once. She had no reason to be anxious on the ship this time, given she couldn't massacre the place, she was just going to wait and see where they took her, and while she was struggling, she was also excited for the adventure.
It turned out they were heading far, far north, and she settled herself in for a long trip, injecting the antibiotic and painkiller into her leg and taking a tiny drink of the elixir that would have to last her a long time.
The journey wasn't bad, loud male voices shouting from above and swearing that came from any ship, spending most of the trip asleep or trying not to cry out in pain.
By the fourth day she had pulled down her pants enough to see that her skin had turned a nasty shade of red and she immediately knew she was running out of time and the thought of having to try to escape Ceress was terrible. She was going to have to get out of the city without magic, get to Winter, and find someone there who would take her anywhere in the human world. She should have just killed herself when she had the chance.
Injecting herself again, she bit hard on her lower lip and hoped she would at least survive long enough to get off the blasted ship.
***
Three more days and she was feverish, humming vaguely to herself and watching a phantom Cat running around like a mad thing after a piece of straw that was stuck to his tail. It was a pleasant sight to watch, enjoying his happiness and watching him chasing after a rat that seemed too stupid to realise it was being hunted by the feline.
The last injection went into her vein and she knew she was done, her breathing heavy and laboured.
Cat settled himself against her and she closed her eyes, at least able to enjoy the warmth of him at her side. She had been sure he hadn't come with her, but she felt comforted by the decision to keep him, even if it meant he would be on his own. She felt selfish, knowing she should have left him behind.
The loud sound of boots on wood approaching her lulled her to sleep and her fingers fell to the wood where Cat had been lying.
***
When she woke, the breeze of fresh air was delicious and she immediately snapped awake, jerking upright to find herself in a bed in the captain's quarters, the windows thrown wide, and doors propped open to allow the breeze.
A man was sitting at the desk across from her, muttering to himself as he wrote and she looked down, horrified to find she was only wearing her under things.
"I'll kill you if any one of you touched me…" she growled, and the man jumped, turning around to look at her.
"No one touched you," he said warily and when she tried to lift up the blankets, she found she had been bound to the bed using padded iron.
Lifting the shackle, her eyes went from it to him, a low growl of warning starting up in her chest.
"Don't worry, it's for our protection. I'll release you when we have decided you are not a threat."
"Why am I chained to your bed?" she demanded, the implication and accusation clear in her voice.
"It was here or one of the cells and you had a better chance of surviving in here. The shackles are so you don't kill anyone."
Taking that in, she squirmed until she could see her leg and marvelled at how much better it looked.
"What makes you think I'll kill you?" she asked, tensing her thigh but there was only a small twinge of pain.
"When we found you, you were delirious and very well armed. You cursed worse than my best sailor and then deteriorated into another language none of us knew. You stabbed three of my men before we managed to flatten you, no deaths at least. If you can cause that much damage with sepsis fever, then what are you capable of in full condition? After we got you down, one of my men leant on her leg and you screamed bloody murder and passed out. We did have to remove your pants to get to the wound, but I assure you no one did anything untoward. We are honourable men."
She lifted the shackle in challenge to his saying they were honourable, and he grinned.
It was incredibly odd, he appeared to be human, but he didn't fear her, nor did he seem likely to abuse her and she had to wonder if she was running with the wrong crowd.
"Where's my shirt and my gear?" she demanded, scanning the room.
"Scattered around the ship." He seemed pleased by her indignation. "I'm not stupid enough to leave it all in a neat little pile for you to find. As for your shirt, it is being washed. It was covered in blood. You can have it back when it's clean, but until then you're safe in here."
He was an annoyingly clever man, and she didn't like it at all.
"So who are you?" he asked casually, turning the top of the bolted down chair and leaning back with his elbows on the desk.
He was quite handsome for a human, dark blue eyes, short dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard, muscled as all sailors were and dressed in cotton. A white shirt and brown pants with leather boots.
"No one important. Where are we heading?" she said evasively.
"Istralis. Why are you on my ship?"
"Looking for adventure. Where is Istralis in reference to Ayathian?"
"Two weeks South East. Someone as skilled with a knife and that heavily armed isn't just out for adventure."
It was the wrong direction, and she had to wonder why she thought she was heading north. A delusion like Cat had been?
"Do you know every adventurer? How would you know?"
"We've had plenty of stowaways before. You're not the usual and judging by your... appearance, your fighting skills, and the way my men responded to you, I'd venture a guess that you're on the run. Or are even here to try and assassinate me."
"Assassinate you? I don't know who you are." She lifted a brow, curious as to why he would think that.
"Prince Malik of Istralis," he said with a flash of a charming grin, but it fizzled out when she didn't seem to be particularly impressed. "Never heard of me, huh?" he seemed disappointed.
"I have not, why are you out sailing instead of sitting safe at home?"
"I'm ninth in line to the throne, they aren't concerned."
"Humans breed like rabbits…" she said, indignant.
"Ten males, six females to my parents,"
"Do humans not have birth control?"
"Not really. So, what are you, since you know what I am?"
"Gauging by the shackles, I assumed you knew what I was," she said, jangling the chains.
"We took a wild guess based on rumours; we didn't know if it would work. There aren't many mythicals in Istralis. You're the first I've actually spoken to."
"Good guess," she muttered, curious about this strange place.
The door opened, and another person came in, looking around curiously and then freezing as he found her looking at him. He was dressed very similar to Malik, only his neck was strung with fetishes and symbols. Her eyes locked on the mass of magical tools.
"The witches are gone…" she sounded almost indignant. But then again, there was nothing stopping new witches from being born, but he was old enough that he should have been picked up by her collection.
"I'm not a witch. I'm a magi," he said, sidling into the room and approaching the bed with a small case of tools. "I won't hurt you, but I need to treat your leg."
She glared at him, indignant that his kind weren't considered to be witches. Magi used arcane magic and rather than being born with the ability, they came into it by years of pushing against the barrier between the two worlds, or they bought magic from a mythical. Most of Faerie hated the mages for that reason, they saw it as a violation. She didn't care much either way, she knew Faerie wasn't being consumed by the Magi.
"Lucas is why you aren't dead," Malik said, and she looked up at the man himself. He was tall for a human, taller than her even, and his brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was braided down his back to reach just past his backside.
He also looked rather cynical, and she watched him warily, unsure of him. She had never met a mage before, but he was only a few steps away from Epharis and that left her wary. She didn't stop him from drawing the covers further down and she growled in warning as he touched around the scar.
It hurt a lot more than she expected and when she flinched back from him, he nodded and collected a few vials from the bag.
"What are those?" she demanded, suspicious of him injecting her with anything.
"Medications and pain killers," he said and when she looked doubtful, he held them out to her.
Studying the liquids and then smelling them when he pulled the cork, she nodded once in acceptance.
He was skilled in his craft and her muscles relaxed as the painkiller flooded her system.
Once he was done, he pulled the blankets up over her shoulders and tucked it in to keep it from falling down again.
She turned her head slightly, inhaling the scent of him.
He was nothing like Epharis, he smelt strongly of magic and human, which was an exceptionally odd combination to her, but he set her mouth to watering and she forced down the urge to bite him.
Moving back from her, his dark eyes were curious on her and she smiled slightly, ignoring that same reaction every male had at her smile.
Malik was watching them, and she leant her head back against the headboard of the bed, her attention flicking between the two of them and simply enjoying the feeling of not being in pain.
"So, you say you don't have many mythicals in Istralis?" she asked, her eyes hooded and a drowsiness coming over her that she embraced.
"Just those like him," Malik replied as the mage retreated.
"The magi aren't mythicals, they're bastardising magic."
Lucas whipped around on her, furious and she shrugged.
"I don't really care; you can have it all if you want it. I'm sick of dealing with it all. I wonder what would happen if there was more magic…" Her head was beginning to droop to the side, her eyes barely open. "Will have to ask Hades in the morning… he'll know…"
Her head dropped onto her arm and she was peacefully asleep once more.