Connak shrugs. “They never tell that part of the story.”
“If the wind casters aren’t propelling us, how are we sailing?” I ask, lifting my eyes to the limp sails overhead.
“The Aether,” Connak answers. “All who pass through the fog are brought to the island. The place is desperate for a conduit and summons all who venture near.”
The islandsearchesfor someone capable of sitting on its throne?
Gods, I wonder what it’s going to make of Ryc and me.
Neither of us fully fae, yet somehow destined to become conduits for faekind.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard the stories about Illa Ysari,” Connak says, pulling me from my thoughts with a roguish grin. “While they’re simply stories, this place is many things to many people. In truth, it’s a reminder of what happens when the gods don’t get their way.”
The captain reaches, rapping a knuckle against the wooden rail beside my head three times.
If they’re stories, why the superstition?
“Hope you folk find what you’re looking for quickly,” he says as he pushes himself upright. “Couldn’t pay me enough to spend a night in those halls.”
With a quick dip of his chin, he retreats from the deck, the fog swirling about him until he vanishes.
With little hesitation, my eyes swing to Ryc’s.
“What stories?” I demand more than ask.
He smirks. “I knew that question was coming.”
Curling an arm around my shoulders, he draws me into him. It’s an embrace that’s become incredibly familiar these last few months.
“I believe he’s referring to the tales fae tell their children to keep them obedient,” he says with a small laugh. “People disappearing for years at a time and returning home changed. Sightings of a ghostly woman flinging herself from an eastern balcony into the sea on nights with a full moon.”
I level a flat glare in Ryc’s direction. “Ghosts?”
Many fantastical and dangerous things exist in this realm. Ghosts are not among them.
He chuckles. “I’m confident the amount of truth in such stories is granular at best.”
“When you visited, did you see anything?” I ask. “The vanishing… that could be a pocket dimension. With the amount of Aether here, it’s entirely possible for it to manifest in such a way.”
“I sit beside you having not experienced being whisked away to some hidden world,” Ryc says with a curling smile. “But that visit did change me.”
There’s a haunted note that lingers in his soft voice, but Connak’s shout cuts through the quiet, severing my chance to ask for further explanation. His order ripples through the sails, echoed by dozens of voices as the command spreads across the deck.
Sailors weave in and out of the fog as they rush about, raising sails, knotting stays, and preparing themselves to dock. Forcing myself to a stand, I dare to look over the front of the ship. Through the fog, it’s difficult to see much of anything.
Until it appears.
On the left a white stone dock unveils itself dangerously close to the ship. Arch after arch of hewn white stone pop through the fog. Along with the dock, they race beside the shoreline in a gentle sweeping curve. Beyond it, the fog gives way to blood-red leaves hoisted by thick-trunked trees quickly creating abrightcanopy amid all thewhite.
Ryc’s hand finds mine as we stand together watching Illa Ysari grow into existence beside us. The ship continues to slow and, drawn forward, I slip closer to the island, pulling Ryc with me.
Thisis where we’ll be expected to live?
An island marred by blood and death and drowning in Aether?
“Welcome to Illa Ysari,” Connak’s voice travels through the fog, but he’s nowhere to be seen. “If all passengers would make their way to me, I’ll see you safely ashore.”
“Ready, little love?”
