The morning came slowly, creeping across the water like a grey ghost. Mist rose from the river in thick tendrils, wrapping around the ship and making everything beyond a few yards invisible.
The sun hung low and pale in the eastern sky, barely strong enough to penetrate the fog that seemed to cling to the water like a living thing.
Around five in the morning, the pirate ship came to a gentle halt near a small wooden dock that jutted out into the river like a finger pointing toward deeper waters.
The town beyond was modest and quiet, built entirely of timber that had weathered to a soft grey color over the years. Smoke rose from a few chimneys, suggesting that some of the inhabitants were already beginning their daily routines, but most of the settlement still slumbered in the early morning mist.
Below decks, Odessa stirred from her rest.
She had slept fitfully, her senses remaining alert for danger even in repose.
