Lyn let go of the beam slowly. Her hands lowered to her sides, eyes drawn forward past the open door to the narrow windows above the prow. Her braid had come undone in places, strands of hair drifting loose, catching glints of blue-gold from the runes still tapering into stillness.
She had taken the sea before. Had known every kind of vessel from deck to hull. But this, this was not a journey across the sea.
It was a journey away from it.
There was no vertigo. No lurch in the gut. The lift hadn't shocked her, it had stilled her. Like the world had exhaled just for them. Like the pulse of the ship had wrapped itself around her spine and asked, silently, if she was ready to leave behind what she thought was home.
Her cases were aboard.
