rin’s eyes sprang open from a dream of counting. All was black save a flickering slice of yellow light. She was swaying. Something thumped on the roof. Something hissed against the walls. There were bells. Her mind was still counting them from the dream. Three bells … four bells … five bells.
The truth fell on her like a stone on her chest. It was the middle of the night. The roof was a deck. The walls were a wooden hull slicing through the Deep Blue Sea. She was swinging in a hammock. In the belly of a pirate ship scudding toward Sugar Bowl Island. To save another pirate ship from being blown to splinters. The year was 1720.
Erin was three hundred years from home.
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