Very few did. Not many bothered to learn the sign language meant for the hearing impaired or those who couldn’t speak—like me.
Mary huffed, tugging at her frizzy red hair that poofed around her head. More frizz than curls. She lifted the bread, now soaked in ale.
“Well, there you go, Mary,” the captain said with a smirk. “Now the bread’s not hard anymore.”
Mary shot him a glare.
He turned to me, and I quickly picked up my own loaf and shoved it toward him. He raised his hands. “No, really. I can’t take your bread.”
I pushed it toward him again, then signed,“Take it. I insist.”
He scrubbed a hand over his thinning grey hair, mustache twitching over lip. “Well, alright. But only if you eat with us. I insist.” He raised a finger at the innkeeper, who was finishing cleaning up the mess. “And another tankard for the lady.”
Mary mumbled, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I summoned what I hoped looked like a sweet smile then sat back down, settling my red skirt over my legs, and I got to work charming the captain.
Chapter Two
BELLAMY
The captain roared with laughter as he drank his third tankard of ale. “I like you.” He wagged a finger in my direction. “For someone who can’t speak, you’re feisty.”
Ah. And what a backhanded compliment that was. As if me not being able to speak was some sort of deficit, like it was shocking that someone who couldn’t use words still had a personality. I was starting to regret making him my target, but I reminded myself that I had no choice in the matter. People were looking for me, and they’d be here sooner or later. I had to be gone by the time they found me.
The tavern had emptied considerably in the last few hours as the moon rose higher in the sky, everyone retiring to their rooms in preparation for whatever journeys lay ahead. I wished I could be doing the same.
But Matthew, the captain, wouldn’t stop talking. He faced me, straddling the bench, while I turned my body toward him, red skirt hanging over my legs and down to my ankles.
Mary’s head lay in her folded arms, eyes closed as she snored softly. I was starting to see why she was so grumpy.
“Do it again,” Matthew said, eyes alight.
I rolled my eyes, then signed at the man across the room who’d been making kissy faces at me the last few minutes.“Fuck off”my hand movements said.
It delighted Matthew to no end, and he erupted into a fit of giggles. “So that’s how you curse in sign language. I may not understand much of it, but I do understand that sign.” He repeated it, movements sloppy.
Spirits below, this man had the emotional maturity of a sixteen-year-old.
The man across the room glared but thankfully didn’t come over to start anything, not that I was worried if he did. I grew up with seven brothers. I could handle myself.
Matthew leaned closer, his scent of ale and days-old fish making me want to gag. “Tell me, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a shit town like this? Surely you’re not a merchant or a fisherman?”
Here went nothing. I lowered my eyes, stuck out my bottom lip, twined my hands together. When I peeked a glance at Matthew, he was frowning, his grey mustache drooping. “Are you running from someone?”
I shook my head, then pointed to my eyes.
His own eyes widened in understanding. “Looking for someone.”
I nodded.
“Well, if you’re needing passage somewhere, I could accommodate you,” Matthew suggested.
And there it was. Now came the hard part.
He took another sip of his ale. “Where are you headed? Human town or elemental?”
I steeled myself for the answer I was about to give.
