Before the boat had made it far beyond the wooden fingers of the dock, Jean doubled over the side with a sickly groan and promptly threw up into the sea.
"Great," Alaric muttered under his breath, keeping one hand on the tiller and the other pinching the bridge of his nose. "We've barely started and she's already feeding the fish."
Jean waved a shaky hand without looking up, hair whipping around her face as she gagged again. "Don't... talk to me right now."
Lucius crouched beside her, rubbing gentle circles on her back and smirking faintly. "You were ready to fight city touts and do your archeology job, but a little water makes you weak in the knees?"
"Land... doesn't move," she gasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "And bones don't smell like salt and regret."
The boat rocked gently, gliding further away from the port, the breeze growing braver, warmer, bolder. The wind carried the scent of the open sea, mingled with the sun-soaked wood beneath their feet.
