The Map

Aira unrolls the map in lamplight. “What is this made of? Leather?”

Roslyn shivers. “It’s said Blacksilk tattooed it on another pirate so it couldn’t be stolen, but—”

“Wait. So this is—”

A bloody ghost woman rises through the table. “The skin off me back, girls!”


Copyright © by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.

Discover more of my Aethereal Musings.

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