Tal bent forward at the front of the boat, shut his eyes tight - keeping the nausea down became the only task. Then came stillness, slow and narrow. Footsteps trembled under him when the hull dropped, his fingers locking hard onto cold metal rails. A lurch sent breath rushing out, palms burning from sudden grip. Hold it together. Keep your stomach settled. Stay clear of nausea Fear sat heavy in Tal's chest whenever waves came near.

Sailing made him weak, each roll of the boat twisting his insides. His brother grinned every single time he leaned over the rail, mouth sour with mockery. A sharp breath pulled the fumes in, making him choke. Smoke bit at Tal's senses - its bitter edge crawling from the wreck near their vessel - and his hands clenched while nausea swelled behind his ribs.

What happened next unfolded without warning. After he warned them stressing how risky it was to step outside the castle walls they still moved through the realm anyway.

His words meant nothing. Disregard turned everything sideways. A drop slid down his face when he opened his eyes, wiped away slow with the hem of his shirt. Under the rigid edge at his neck, fingers slipped in - pulled just one time - but the thing held fast. It did not move.

Down below in the crew area, he stayed hidden, waiting for landfall. A note to the queen could explain what went off track so far. She may agree to bring him back. Yesterday, at departure, he saw her tremble slightly as he raised a hand from the rear deck.

"Tally!" Out came Garrett, boots loose, jacket half open.