I didn't know who was speaking to me at first. My gaze was still on my sword, which was still curled within the grip of my hand, but my hand wasn't where it was supposed to be. It was lying in the sand, at least a foot too far to still be attached, and I wanted to say it wasn't possible, but I knew it was.

"He took my hand," I said, feeling numb and confused. Finally I blinked and looked and found myself face to face with Octavia. She was wrapping what was left of my arm and then I saw the blood.

"He took my hand just like I took theirs." I meant the pirates. She had to have seen some of them, the men missing their right hand.