““Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Ao had come up behind him while Jerzy was losing what was left of his previous evening’s dinner, and was standing by the railing, glancing out over the calm blue waters. The trader was barefoot and shirtless, his straight black hair slicked away from his round face, emphasizing the narrow, heavy-lidded eyes that, even when things were going badly, held some inner amusement—often, as this morning, at Jerzy’s expense. Above him, the wind snapped the canvas sails and rat...tled the main. The air was sweet and salty; large white birds sailed overhead, calling out in harsh, high voices as they searched for breakfast in the waters below; and the sun was only just rising, turning the briny blue-green depths into a brighter aquamarine. Jerzy would have traded it all for a miserably rainy day in the dankest room anywhere on solid land. “I hate you,” he said, leaning against the wooden railing and wishing that his limbs would stop shaking already. Ao laughed, but there was real sympathy in his voice.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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