Prologue
A silent figure crept along the dark alleyway, a heavy cloak wrapped tightly about them, clearly too big for their tiny frame. A grey woollen scarf was wound around the girl's neck, half covering her thin face. The figure glanced momentarily towards the heavens, only visible through a small opening between the two rows of empty warehouses. The eyes of the runaway were momentarily visible, shining with the reflected starlight, which looked as though it were coming from within. But the moment of peace elapsed, and the small figure carried on.
She did not have a name. Not that she could remember anyway. Not a proper name, although people had called her various things. She shivered, and pulled the coat tighter about herself. She had nowhere to go. She shook, not only with the cold, but the injustice of everything. They had used her, and there was nothing more to be said. And now she had to get away. The salty tang of the sea hit her, and she could hear the waves sloshing gently against the concrete harbour. A large ferry boat waited there, still, dark and empty, like the blackness of the night. Something moved in the alleyway behind her, and she spun around. Surely no-one saw her leave? But it was only a cat stumbling along the cobbled ground. It staggered out into the middle of the alleyway, and fell to the ground. The girl was torn. She had to get to the ship, and yet the poor animal could be in pain. Dying. Turning, she hurried towards it. Always making the wrong decisions. Always letting her heart rule her head. The animal cried out in pain again. Her feet pounded, the worn boots clacking against the old stones. Blood. She could see blood. She knelt down, and scooped the tiny animal up in her arms, a frail, starving kitten, lost and alone. Gently parting the fur which had been matted with concealed blood, she found the source of the blood, a deep gash down the animal's hind leg. She reached into her rucksack, and retrieved a long white bandage that she unrolled, and wound securely around the injured thigh. She could smell infection, but here was nothing to be done about that now. Lifting the wounded soul carefully from the ground, she looked around for its mother, but she could see nothing. She had to go, and yet if she left it here, it would be dead by morning. The kit mewled piteously, burying its head into her coat. There was nothing else for it. She opened her coat, and nestled the poor creature gently into one of the cavernous inside pockets. It was delirious, but right now, all she could do was keep it warm. Turning on her heel, she hurried again towards the ship, into the unknown. Into an adventure that would change her life forever.