The Dark Magi (Part 3, page 1 of 35)

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Part 3


Ander sat in the galley, enjoying the crackling, radiant warmth of the stoves, sipping the hot, sweet-spicy beverage that was the favourite of sailors. He sighed, deeply, enjoying the rough-wood smell of the old ship and the comfortably chaotic look of outdoor clothes hanging everywhere, the tangy, resinous smell of white, freshly split kindling in its copper by the cookstove, the rattle of the windowpanes; even each invasive draft of chilly air that got past the remnant of each window’s crumbling caulking.

To the sailor in him, all of these things meant home.

An incongruously young voice caught his attention, and with an inward smile, he watched T’cha and the reluctant Irena step over the storm sill into the galley. Ander had ordered Irena’s footwear confiscated and tossed overboard, her military accoutrements stowed away in a lockbox where they would remain until she reached the age of majority. She now appeared as she was- a young girl still in need of her parents. Her arm in a sling giving her some difficulty as she stepped over the storm sill, she looked very small and out of place, and all too obviously felt it acutely.

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