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beating. Besides,
where could they run off to in this small ship and the vast
sea?
    Cecelia heard groaning from behind her. She
shifted and saw the mad man appearing from below the stairs.
    “And you!” Jackson shouted. “I told you not
to beat him.”
    There was a low grunt and then, “But,
master, he’s a demon.” He stared at Cecelia, his shaking hand was
covering his bleeding wrist. “And that bastard, he cut me deep,
master.”
    Jackson turned to Cecelia. “Ye,” he growled,
“ye know our plan. Ye won’t be leaving ‘ere alive. I’ll have to
kill ye now.” He drew out his sword.
    Cecelia stared at the sharp blade pointing
at her. Good Lord, she thought, this is the end of it,
and I haven’t even reached the Demon Kingdom yet.
    Jackson moved the blade toward her. Cecelia
hands reached for her dagger. She was ready to draw it out as
Jeremy thrust the blade forward.
    “Captain! The ghost birds, they are
everywhere!” a man shouted from the door.
    At this point, the blade halted near her
neck and Cecelia’s dagger was halfway out of her belt.
    “What?” Jackson shouted and twisted around.
“Out with all the lights. Don’t let them see us,” he shouted. Then
he turned his attention to Cecelia. “And, ye two, take them to the
prison below,” he ordered as he rushed off toward the deck.
    The men hustled off in every direction,
blowing out candles in all the cabins and the torches in their
hands. The corridor was suddenly almost in total darkness except
for the small, flickering lit candle in a man’s hand, coming toward
them.
    He said, “Down ye two go,” as he pointed a
sharp blade at them. “That’s right. Don’t ye struggle, demon, or
this sword will cut ye alive.” And then he laughed as though he
really liked the sound of that.
    Cecelia stared at him and really would like
to give a hard knock to his leering face.
    “You too, boy, down you go,” he said,
shoving the sword’s pointy end at her throat.
    Gritting her teeth, she turned and walked
back down the stairs, her arms around the limping boy. They were
shoved into the wooden prison. The boy fell, and Cecelia quickly
rushed to aid him. Once she got him lying down on the ground with
his head resting on her lap, she looked up to see the man locking
them up.
    “Ye won’t live after we deal with the ghost
birds,” he said, looking at her as he tested the locked door.
“It’ll be a pleasure killing ye.” He laughed as he left them.
    Cecelia turned to look at the boy. She saw
his young face paled with fatigue.
    “Were you kidnapped?” she asked as she
stroked his blond hair.
    The boy had his eyes shut. She heard his
deep breathing and thought he was asleep. So she gave up waiting
for his answer and closed her eyes as well.
    “Aye.”
    She flashed her eyes open and noted that he
was watching her. She was surprised his voice was still strong
after the beating.
    “How are you feeling?”
    “I’m awfully sore before, but I’m better
now.”
    She knew he was lying. No one could feel
better that quickly after such a severe beating. But she said
nothing.
    “Do you miss your family?” she asked as a
way to keep his mind away from the pain. She knew it worked when
she thought of her loving family.
    Once, she had fallen off Snow, her mare, and
broken her ankle. The healer had made a potion for her to drink. It
had been so bitter that most of the times she had spat the
concoction back out. The healer had also bound her limb with a
thick green mixture. The pain at night had been unbearable, but her
mother had talked to her of her great ancestors on her mother’s
side, of how bravely they had fought in wars, of how they had
survived and were rewarded with an island called Rosevalley, of how
they had turned that barren island into green, lush vineyard and
farmland, and of how they had first built Rosevalley Castle with
their bare hands. Her mother had also told her of how she’d met her
father, a prince of the Dardania Kingdom, and of how