While she didn't have the same urge to go punch the elder that Oliver did, Brinley felt a similar sense of despair.  Fleeing the slave ship had been nothing but a futile gesture that would earn her nothing but perhaps a lashing.  She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking.  

But then...  "Ships traveling away?" she repeated, almost in disbelief.  Dare she hope again?  "Which way does the river flow?" she asked, then realizing the "game", added: "... so that we may avoid it."

[i]"Wait!"[/i]  The cry rang out from not far away...  just outside the ring of huts in the foliage.  

"It's them!" Brinley cried in dismay, not realizing it was the sailor that had broken them free.  "Run!"