(277 words.)
There was a moment of fear when she first heard his voice again, low and rumbling and still so immediately familiar to her even after all the years apart. His words floated up over the sound of the waves and the general talk and clatter of the docks, and she froze in place.
But this was not Dunwall, where he had sent her away with her life and a command never to return. Daud may have been born on this isle, but Karnaca was no more his territory than it was her own. This was level ground for them.
She listened for a few moments while he spoke, bartering for passage with one of the other captains making port here. He was hoping to go north, up the coast toward Bastillian. Not her usual route, but she hadn't taken on any passengers or cargo yet, so she had no real obligations or schedules to stick to.
Billie chewed her lip in thought, then let out a harsh sigh. She'd named her own damn ship after him, even if she had tried to be clever enough to be able to deny it. The painted letters were still shiny and new across the sides. To claim she hadn't hoped to meet him again someday would be such an obvious lie it wasn't worth telling, even to herself.
She made her decision and leaned over the railing of the Dreadful Wale before she could change her mind. "Hey," she called out, and there was Daud looking up at her, a little older and a lot wearier but still achingly familiar. She swallowed hard. "It sounds like you're heading my way."