Voyage of the Star Streak

Sophie leans over the crystal ball, candlelight trembling over black silk sheets, while the Star Streak’s deep hum rolls through the cabin like distant surf. Her fingers circle the glass, and the orb clouds with silver mist.

The image sharpens. In the corridor below, Miles moves with a bucket tucked tight against her side, glancing toward the stairwell as if waiting for a command.

Sophie turns the orb a fraction, and the view slides across the ship to Anna in the hold, one hand braced on the hull, listening to the new cannons settle into the frame.

Another shift of her wrist reveals Maisie below deck, bent over a chart, her braids loose over one shoulder as she marks the route by lampglow.

Sophie’s mouth stills. The crystal ball lingers on Kael Umal in a dim passage, black armor catching starlike pinpricks where the candlelight reaches it, his hand resting near the sword as if the ship itself has spoken to him.

A soft pulse passes through the orb, then a faint knock sounds at Sophie’s chamber door, light and uncertain, as if someone stands there and waits.

Sophie snaps the crystal ball into a cloth wrap and lowers it out of sight before the knock comes again. The cabin’s candlelight steadies, but the ship’s low vibration still trembles through the boards.

She crosses to the door and pulls it open a hand’s width. Julia stands there with a tray balanced in both hands, steam curling from a covered bowl.

Julia’s knowing look lingers on Sophie’s face, then flicks past her shoulder to the dim room behind her.

Julia shifts the tray a little higher, half invitation and half warning, as if she has decided not to say everything she knows out loud.