![]() Movement, Tristan thought as his eyes flew open and he threw himself out of the bed. And that sound was not just creaking wood. There was just something about the almost-silence and the dark of the cabin that. Not that he had solid reason to fear for his, as an inducted watchman on a Watch ship headed for a Watch school. They were not any real indication of safety. Though the Fair Vistas was large enough he had been given his own cabin and it had a lock on the door, Tristan had spent a great deal of his life picking locks. The thief’s eyes stayed closed even as he pricked his ear, every groan of the old galleon keeping him on edge: it sounded like someone walking on an old floor. It was dark inside the cabin, his bedding pulled tight around his body in deference to the coolness of sea winds. Tristan woke to the gentle rocking of the ship.
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