Chapter 38 — Shadows at Sea, Shadows on Land
The cell smelled of salt and rust. Water lapped faintly against the hull outside, the sound almost gentle against the violence inside. A short, wiry woman sat on a stool, her legs crossed neatly, as if she were at tea rather than in a dungeon chamber. Her cropped curls were black and tight, her left eye covered with a rough leather patch. From beneath it ran an ugly scar — red and purple — slashing across her face and halting above her lip.
The assassin slumped against her chains, head lolling. Water dripped down her hair and into the straw at her feet. The chains around her wrists damp with her blood, the chain itself taut as her body slumped forward.
She was awake, biding time, wondering how she was caught so easily, and wondering how she ever got into the hands of such a sadistic human being.
