Gild (The Plated Prisoner 1)

Their long lengths are like snakes ready to strike. Not at the captain, but to Sail, to the ropes that bind him to the pole.

Some of the saddles in the middle of the ship see me and cast nervous looks around, some of them inch forward to get a better look through the wind-driven rain.

I stand at the base of the wooden post, looking up, directing, moving each ribbon with determined intent. Even as they get sodden and heavy with rain, they deftly tug out knots. When that’s not enough, their edges harden, no longer soft like satin, but sharp—as sharp as the edge of a blade. Golden silk battles against corded twine, ripping and yanking, slicing into the strands like they’re nothing.

“Oy!”

I ignore the shout that snags the attention of the pirates, ignore them as they finally see me, see what I’m doing. My ribbons keep shredding, keep tugging.

When the first pirate gets to me and snags my arm, a ribbon is already there to intercept him. It lashes out, slices into his arm, cutting through his thick furs like they’re as thin as a petal.

A muffled yelp of surprise escapes him as he stumbles back and lets go of me to put a hand over his wound, but I pay him no mind. My eyes are still up, my attention ensnared on Sail’s body.

Down. I want to get him down.

My ribbons work viciously, directed with barely a thought, fueled by anger as red as a fire claw’s flames, despite the fact that they’re soaked-through and heavy.

One after another, the bindings fall away from Sail’s body, until someone grabs me from behind and spins me around.

I come face-to-face with Captain Fane, his brown eyes searing, his face uncovered. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarls.

His hands grip my arms so tightly that he pinches my skin despite the layers of my sleeves covering me. I shove at him, but the slaps of my hands do nothing against him. He barely even notices it, because he’s too busy looking behind me, looking up.

To where my ribbons are cutting through the last of the ropes.

The captain’s eyes widen. “Shi—”

Before he can finish his curse, Sail’s body is falling.

It crashes over us, cold flesh and stiff muscles knocking us down, tearing me out from the captain’s hold.

I land in a jolted heap, Sail’s legs sprawled over my torso. The sound of footsteps pound toward us, voices yelling through the whipped wind.

I roll out from under Sail and outstretch my ribbons again, making them wrap around his body. Around and around they go, until he’s bound from neck to hip, and then I start to pull.

He’s heavy and both of us are soaking wet, but my ribbons pull as hard as they can, refusing to let go. Inch by inch, they drag him across the puddling deck.

The strain is instant along my spine, the muscles at my back burning with every tug, already exhausted. But I have no time to slow, no time to rest between heaves, because the Red Raids are coming for me, the captain is snarling, vile anger in his expression as I pull Sail’s body toward the edge of the ship.

“Stop!” Captain Fane shouts—not at me, but at his men. “I’ll fucking deal with her.”

Dread swarms around me, but I don’t let it show on my face, I don’t let it stumble my steps.

Because I don’t care.

I don’t care that the captain has a promise of punishment on his face as he stalks toward me. I don’t care what he’ll do to me for this. Because he killed my friend. He killed him, and I couldn’t stop it.

But I can stop this. I can stop the Red Raids from dishonoring Sail’s body. So I will.

With gritted teeth, with sweat and sleet dripping down my temples, I heave. I keep two ribbons loose, poised at my sides, ready to lash out at any who approach or try to stop me.

But the pirates backed off at Captain Fane’s order, so it’s just me. Just me, dragging Sail’s body slowly—too slowly—as the captain stomps toward me, fists clenched and eyes raving.

My back hits the railing of the ship, and I waste no time to lean down, placing my hands under Sail’s arms. I pull as hard as I can, ribbons straining with me as we try to get him up.

Heavy. So damn heavy.

My back sags against the railing, panted breath butchering through my chest, the wind and rain making it hard to breathe, to see. My body is frozen through, my fingers slippery and numb.