Page 30 of Fate Promised

“I’ll keep us afloat.”

11

Half an hour later, Triska balanced on spread legs, one hand gripping a rope line. She’d pulled her hair back, and her long braid streamed behind her as she rode the bow up and down with the waves. The lure of the sea whispered over her skin. Trailed its seductive fingers down the back of her neck and across her cheek.

Come. Play among the waves.

She clutched the rope line harder and let it bite into her palm. Being out on the water, especially going so far out toward the open ocean, she’d known the pull of it would suck at her, but it was far worse than she’d expected. Every day she sailed on the sea and conquered it, yet over the past few days, it seduced a little longer. A little more ardently.

One day, it was going to win.

The sails slapped as the boat crested another wave, water spraying over the bow and over her oil-skinned boots. Behind her, a shirtless Juri clutched at a rigging line with both hands near Fergal at the helm. They’d entered the area around the vanishing isle, and the fog was a white shroud around them, limiting visibility to fifty feet, making it impossible to tell what the coastline looked like. Rocks could appear any moment, and they wouldn’t have much warning.

The ship crested another wave, but as they slammed down the other side, the fog engulfed the boat, reducing visibility to mere feet in front of them. Only a dull gleam flashed port side, showing the location of the lighthouse.

The wind stopped as if the air had been sucked away. Above her, the sails flagged, and the ocean’s waves smoothed to glass. “What the uit?” Juri cursed.

With no wind, the sailboat evened out and slowed down, the only noise the water splashing along its sides.

Triska turned. “What’s going on?”

“Hold the helm,” Fergal told Juri. Juri took the ship’s steering wheel as if it might bite him. Fergal leaned over the side, peering down, dangerously close to toppling overboard. Triska swung along the deck to get close enough to grab his shirt, just in case he tipped.

A large splash, much louder than the waves, shot through the fog. Triska jumped and peered at the water. A large circle of ripples appeared a few feet from the side of the boat. If something was there, the fog obscured it.

“Triska, come back here with me.”

“What is it?” She stepped along the deck to Juri’s side.

“Something’s out there.” He growled. “I can’t see a damn thing through this fog.” The hair on the back of his neck was up, the way she’d seen it when they’d been on the beach battling Hoyt last night.

“I’ve never seen the bay like this before. The water is so still, it’s like we’re on a lake.”

Juri’s claws extracted along the helm. “It’s not natural. There any whales or seals still around?”

Triska shook her head. “No, it’s too late in the season.”

“I didn’t think so. But something large made that splash.”

She agreed and tried to peer through the fog. Fergal joined them and batted at Juri to release the helm. “Claws back in, don’t scratch my boat.” He held his telescope to his eye. “Ah, only a bit farther now.”

Juri’s eyes narrowed. “Let me look through that thing. I don’t think that’s a normal telescope.”

Fergal pointed. “I think you’d rather look at that.”

Triska gasped and huddled closer to Juri. The fog parted, pulling back like a curtain, and the island appeared. They were almost close enough they could swim to shore if they wanted. It would be a long swim, but possible. However, with the water behaving so strangely, she didn’t want to enter it. Fergal adjusted the wheel, and the boat sluggishly responded, keeling port side as Fergal aimed for a thin strip of beach to the left. “It’s definitely the vanishing isle. Eynhallow.”

“The vanishing isle is called Eynhallow?” she asked.

In answer, Juri recited,

“Eynhallow fair, Eynhallow free,

Eynhallow stands in the middle of the sea.

With a roaring roost on either side,

Eynhallow stands in the middle of the tide.”

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