A breath of a moment passed between Isla and Raif, their eyes locked. Raif's anger over Isla believing him to be behind the ambush faded as she relaxed. Their connection broke as Raif lowered his head and tied off a third sleeve on Isla's leg.

Standing, he held out his hand to her. She took it, his hands calloused and strong. He lifted her to her feet, keeping hold of her for a second longer before letting go.

The instant Isla put weight on her injured leg searing pain sliced through her. She gritted her teeth and fell back against the wall behind her. The coarse stone dug into her back, the bricks still holding a touch heat from the sun's glare despite being shaded.

As Isla stood there, trying to think past the agony in her thigh, the rest of her body let their own aches and bruises known. Her side was throbbing, her shoulder was sore, and her head pulsed at the back where a knot had formed.

"Let me help you," Raif said.

She stared at him as if not understanding what he was saying, the multifaceted wounds leeching away her energy and dulling her mind. Sensing this, Raif stepped forward and took her arm, wrapping it around his shoulders. Beneath his shirt she could feel his muscles tensing, ready to support her.

"Lean on me," he said.

As Isla hoisted herself off the wall, Raif slid an arm around her side. She sucked in a breath and clutched the fabric of his silken shirt as he hit her bruised ribs. Stiffening, Raif hurriedly shifted his hold lower on her waist.

"Is that better?" he asked.

Isla nodded, waiting for the flare of pain to subside. When it did, she ventured a step forward. With Raif's support, movement was manageable, though she could feel herself weakening as her leg kept bleeding.

"We need to get back to the main street," she said. "Find a carriage."

Raif didn't argue, merely held her closer, letting his body be her crutch. Around them drifted the coppery scent of blood. The smell drew Isla's gaze down to the strewn bodies of Raif's father's men. In the narrow lane, the overlapping limbs made the carnage of their fight seem twice as violent. Though all of the men were unmoving, they were still breathing. Raif navigated around the men and back towards the bustling thoroughfare.

"How will your father react to you turning on his men?" Isla asked, her voice tired.

Raif glanced back at the scene of their fight as if only then noticing they were from his father. With a troubled wrinkle in his brow, he faced the lane opening.

"He will be furious, most likely believe that I did it to spite him. Though he might believe that I have been bewitched and don't know what I was doing."

"The first seems more believable."

Raif smiled at her, which she scowled at not knowing what was behind his expression.

"I don't know, the second seems believable to me."

Isla looked away, not having the cognitive strength to dissect all that he meant. As they moved further towards the lane's entrance they heard the clip-clop of hooves grow louder, the steady beat accompanied by the creak of wheels on cobblestones. It was a sound that helped Isla keep moving, knowing that there would be a reprieve from walking.

With each step, shocks of discomfort stabbed her leg. She leaned more heavily on Raif, who took her weight without comment, his arm steady as it was pressed into her side.

"I have to say," he said. "I have never met someone who gets in as many scrapes as you do. Is this a common occurrence for you?"

Isla closed her eyes for a second, gathering her strength. "It seems to be of late. Lord Sutherland's errands have not been peaceful exchanges."

Raif hummed at this but said nothing. Isla eyed him, but his face betrayed not a single thought. A trio of twittering girls turned down the lane and approached the pair, shock brightening their eyes as they noticed Isla's bleeding leg. Ducking their heads closer together, they hurried on, their whispers changing tone. Isla barely spared a thought for what the girls' reactions would be once they came above the five unconscious men.

As Isla and Raif stepped out of the shade of the lane, the sun hit them with a wave of heat. Its warmth weighed on Isla, burning away at her focus. A group of laborers walked by, jostling Isla making her stumble further into Raif's hold.

Raif scanned the crowded streets looking for a carriage they could hire or commandeer. Not seeing one right away, Raif pulled Isla closer to him and turned them into the sea of people.

An onslaught of faces and bodies bombarded Isla as they made their way down the packed sidewalks. Arguing men and chattering women swarmed past the pair, none paying heed to the wounded girl hanging off a nobleman. For this reason, Isla was bumped, hit, and knocked about. With each minor collision, her pain was renewed and her strength diminished until her head all but rest on Raif's shoulder.

"Hold on, Isla," Raif said, tightening his hold on her.

Further down the road, a gleaming black carriage lead by two midnight horses trundled to a stop outside a jeweler's. Raif quickened his steps, whispering encouragement to Isla, spurring her to keep up with him.

A trim, young driver jumped down from the front of the carriage and opened the door. A woman in shimmering silk alighted. Without a glance at her coachman, she crossed the sidewalk and swept into the jewelers. Behind her, the footman was about to close the door when Raif appeared in front of him, holding a knife at the young man's throat. Isla blinked, dazedly surprised at the swiftness of Raif's motion.

"I have no wish to harm you," Raif said. "But I am going to use this carriage."

The man swallowed, trying to stare down at the dagger.

"Do you understand?" Raif said.

The driver nodded slightly, his action muted by the sharp edge of the blade. Despite the mass of people that converged around them, no one seemed to be aware of the altercation happening under their noses.

"Isla can you get inside?"

With weaning energy, Isla detached herself from Raif's support. She gripped the edge of the carriage and pulled herself into the cushioned and sweet-smelling interior. She sank onto the maroon, velvet seat, closing her eyes. Tension seeped out of her as the need to remain standing was taken away.

Hearing Raif's voice, she opened her eyes. From the open doorway, she watched as he stowed away his knife and spoke with the scared driver. Even in her weakened state, she registered as the driver relaxed and eventually even smiled. Offering a smile in return, Raif clasped a hand on the young man's shoulder and nodded.

As the driver scampered back to his perch at the front, Raif ducked into the carriage and closed the door. Instead of taking the seat opposite Isla, he settled down beside her. Using the light of the window, he inspected her bandaged leg. What he found there made him frown. Isla knew the bandages were almost soaked through as if she could feel as each drop of blood left her.

"I have endured worse," she said, resting in the comfort of the plush cushion.

Raif studied her. The carriage rocked back and forth as it cut through the city. The motion was rougher than the ocean, there was no rhythm to each dip and bounce.

"I will say this now," Raif said, "since you are weak enough that you would not be able to hit me."

Isla leaned her head back. "I wouldn't be so certain about that."

He laughed, the richness of the sound filling the small space. "Still, I must say it." He paused, if as weighing his words. "I have heard from your crew all that you have done for Lord Sutherland, the risks you have put yourself through. I want to know why you haven't let your crew take some of the risks?"

Isla stared up at the ceiling. "They have families that need them. Ones depending on them. I can not put them at risk when I know there are children waiting for them at home."

"Yet putting yourself in danger means they risk losing you. Someone they would easily call family as they call the ones waiting at home."

Isla had no reply to that.

"You do not need to be alone, Isla. From what I have seen and heard I know your crew would believe you are worth the risk."

Silence followed this statement. Since the day Isla had taken of the mantel of captain, she had seen the lives of her father's men as her responsibility. One she never wanted to fail at. One she wanted to prove she deserved. Each action and risk had been for them, her way of showing them she was worth trusting.

With Raif's words, she didn't know if she had been doing it all wrong.

The carriage came to a stop and the door was opened. Raif slipped out but spun back to assist Isla. Though the reprieve was a blessing, the moment Isla tried to use her leg again, all her pain came racing back. She staggered out of the carriage, Raif catching her before she could hit the hard ground. For a breath, Isla thought she would black out, her mind battling it out with her body.

She managed to stay conscious but it took all her effort. Footsteps thundered down a gangplank as shouts cut into the air. The noise and the meaning behind it didn't register until Isla felt a pair of strong arms scooped her up. She stared up at Orin. His stony countenance was cracked with worry. Beside her, Isla saw Hawk grab the front of Raif's shirt and slam him into the side of the carriage.

"What happened to her?" Hawk growled.

Raif held up his hands, startled by the ferocity in Hawk's manner. "We were ambushed. She took a blade to her thigh."

"Who ambushed you?" Hawk said, gripping Raif's shirt even tighter."

Raif swallowed. "My father's men."

Isla could see Hawk's fear wanting to explode on Raif, but before it could, she spoke. "Hawk." He didn't look at her and she knew he didn't want her words to sway him away from taking out his emotions on Raif. "I trust him."

For six heartbeats, Hawk remained as he was, glaring at Raif. Then his fury dimmed and he let go. He faced Isla, taking in her bandaged leg and limp form.

"Let's get her to Bin," Hawk said.

Isla surrendered herself to Orin, letting him carry her up the gangplank. On deck, the crew was gathering, watching her. Even Roland had descended from his perch in the crow's nest to see what was going on.

At the sight of her in Orin's arms, they all froze. Isla stared out at them, knowing what was running through their minds. In that instant, a single memory connected them.

Isla sat huddled in a dark alley, pressed against a grimy wall and shielded by at stack of foul fish smelling crates. Though the night was warm, she was curled into a protective ball, cradling her arm. Tremors went through her, radiating from her dislocated shoulder. Tears spilled down her face and she made no attempt to wipe them away.

Scared and in pain, she still didn't return to the ship. She didn't know how to. She had fled after yelling at her father that at thirteen she was old enough to go out on her own. Zev had shouted that she was not and told her she was to stay on the ship. She had run away.

Isla pinched her eyes shut, trying not to think of what had come next. A drunken man. Rank breathe. Gnarled hands gripping her. A hard yank. An unbreakable hold. A pop and searing pain. Isla shuttered, pressing herself against the wall as if she could outrun the night. Dazed, she had cut the man and ran, his angry shouts promising her things she never wanted to endure.

"Isla!"

The deep resonant voice floated through the air, like a beam of sunlight cutting through the clouds. Isla opened her eyes but didn't move, afraid that she hadn't heard right.

"Isla!"

Biting back her cry of pain, Isla used her one working hand to push herself up. She stumbled out of the alley, her boots breaking into bits of trash.

"Isla!"

"Papa!"

Moonlight silhouetted Zev as he sprinted towards Isla, who was crying with abandon, relief and hope overwhelming her. Zev dropped to his knees before her, wiping away her tears and kisses her forehead, shaking with his relief. When he dropped his hands to her shoulders, she let out a yelp of pain and he went rigid.

"What happened?" he asked.

Isla turned her face away, ashamed. Ashamed for yelling. For running away. For not being strong enough. Zev cupped her face, making her look at him.

"Little Wander, what happened?"

Through a stream of tears, Isla told him, his face turning more and more hard with each sentence. In the end, he was staring past her shoulder, his mouth a grim line of anger.

"I'm sorry, Papa. I'm sorry I ran away," Isla choked out.

As Zev met his daughter's gaze, his own demeanor softened and he scooped her up into his arms. He smelled like the sea and Isla buried her face in his shoulder, trembling.

"It's okay, Little Wander, you're safe now," Zev said.

As they made their way back to the ship, Zev let out a sharp two beat whistle. In the distance, Isla could hear it being echoed back. Hawk was the first to meet up with them. By the time they had made it to the ship the rest of the crew had fallen in with them.

Onboard the men hovered around her, asking questions and voicing their anger and worry. Isla was passed off to Orin while Bin gently inspected her shoulder.

"Take care of her," Zev said. He looked to Hawk. "Watch over her."

Hawk folded his arms and stared down his captain. "No, I'm coming with you."

Repetitions of this statement rippled through the crew. Zev met the gazes of the men around him, then nodded.

"Bin, you know what to do."

The crew left and Isla was carried off to her father's cabin. Though no one told her what happened after they left, she knew for they sailed away that night without having remained at the port for more than a few hours.

Isla blinked the memory away and gazed out on the faces that - though older - still held the same fierce look of worry and concern. She felt herself losing the battle to stay conscious and used her last bit of strength to say what she knew she needed to say for a long time.

"I need your help."

**********************************************************************

It will be bad luck if she doesn't come.

(Jack you are so true, life would be terrible without Isla onboard a ship. Especially, the Ralia ship)

*crumples onto the floor* By the stars! I don't know if I should be relieved Isla is accepting help or crying because the girl just can't catch a break! Tell me where you are and maybe that will help me decide. 🗯💬💭✨

At least she had Raif with her and she accepted his help and SHE SAID SHE TRUSTED HIM! This is a great day people! We did take a step forward!

I must say though, this girl has more scars than Carter! (If you don't know who Carter is or how she got scars read A Secret Service then Open Case File) And that's saying a lot considering what Carter's been through! Jeez, you get these two girls together and they would be a force to be reckoned with!

පරිච්ඡේදයේ ප්රශ්නය (Sinhala) (Also such a pretty language!): Do you have a scar? If so how did you get it?

I have a ugly scar on the side of my left knee that I got from a can lid sailing across the room and slicing it open. I know, I lived through a crazy battle!

Vote for starfish, comment on seahorses, and follow the changing tide.