Part 2
Sir Patrick woke up to a beautifully sad song coming from the throat of an ethereal creature. Even if he didn’t know the words, he knew they spoke about the open sea and how much she missed it. “Hey, lass, feeling better?” he asked her, taking some cautious steps not to spook her.
She was looking terrible, pale and half-dead. But how could he know if that wasn’t her usual self? She stopped her ohs and ahs and stared at him in anger.
Sir Patrick realised what she was mad about, he slapped his forehead. “Oh, sorry dear, here.”
She flinched away from him but she couldn’t really swim anywhere, tied up as she was. He opened his palms to show her he meant her no harm, and then undid the nautical knot with a single pull. He noticed that her skin looked dried up and bad, but the wounds
