Darkness. Damn the everlasting black.

Cedric hung from a rafter in the belly of a ship. At least, that was his best guess. The ropes around his wrists chaffed him where they stretched straight above his head. Whoever had strung him up had given him enough slack to have a sure footing on the floor, which was a good thing because the ship kept pitching and rolling.

The briny smell of seawater and aged wood filled his nose. He tried to think clearly. The last thing he ...