Maeve

The camp was nothing more than a few large canvas tents spread out across the beach above the tideline. I sat next to Cleo around a small fire, hugging my knees to my chest as we watched the skiffs dart around the Persephone in the high tide, looking for leaks.

“The ship is definitely floating,” Myla said as she approached our circle, handing out bowls of some kind of stew. I accepted a bowl, thanking her as I straightened my legs and rested the bowl on my ...