It has to be.
I lower the spyglass, a heavy breath slipping out. We’re close, though with this fog hanging like a bad omen, it’s hard to tell if it’s a mile away or just beyond our bow. Either way, not knowing our distance in these waters could turn deadly in a heartbeat.
Fabien is watching me, waiting. “Well?” he asks, his voice cutting through the muted quiet.
“Think I see them,” I say, handing him the spyglass. “But the mist… it’s thick as thieves, hiding every damn detail. Could be a hundred feet, could be a mile off.”
Fabien frowns and raises the glass to his own eye, but I can tell he’s squinting just as hard as I was. He lowers it, frustration set hard in his jaw.
“There’s still daylight left,” I say, thinking fast. “We could take one last look at the hourglass before the sun dips below the horizon. Just in case.”
“It’s pointless,” he replies. “The sun only reveals that damn taunt, nothing more.”
“Then let’s waste some time on it,” I say, crossing my arms. “Because if there’s even the slightest chance something’s different, I’d rather know now than be blindsided later.”
Fabien’s mouth pulls tight, but he doesn’t argue—just nods. He reaches inside his coat and carefully pulls out the hourglass.I’ve seen it before, but damn, it’s beautiful. Delicate, almost fragile-looking, it’s finer than anything I’ve laid eyes on—even that cursed compass, if I’m being honest.
He sets it on the deck, stepping back, and the crew follows his lead, eyes wide as they take it in. I can practically feel their breaths catch; they’re staring like they’ve never seen anything like it before. Not surprising—most of these men wouldn’t recognize an artifact if it bit them. Last time, they were too busy gripping the deck to notice the whalebone. And Fabien? Bet he guards his collection like a miser’s gold.
A hush falls over the deck, and a hint of a smirk tugs at my lips when I hear the murmurs ripple through the crew. A few even tug off their bandanas in some instinctive show of respect—for the goddess or the hourglass itself, who knows. And then, as the sunlight hits the glass, I catch it—just a flicker—that strange shimmer that turns their awe to outright shock. Some of them even stagger back, like they’ve been slapped by the force of it.
I don’t flinch; I just take it in, my pulse quickening. And, curse it all, ithaschanged.
“You’re near to the gate, but the hour’s not set.
Divide yourselves now, in pairs you must trek.
On islands afar lies something to find;
Only then shall the first trial unwind.”
“Would you look at that,” I mutter, lifting my eyebrows. “So there was something we’d miss.”
Fabien’s face hardens even more—if that’s even possible, considering he already looks like he’s carved from stone. But there he is, staring at the hourglass like it’s gone and betrayed him, his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles look ready to split. Part of me wonders if he’s actually going to punch the damn thing.
But of course, he doesn’t. Instead, his voice drops, lower and rougher, like he’s slipped back to that half-crazed state from the shipwreck island where we first crossed paths.
“Pairs?” he grits out. “Trek? Go to the islands?” He spits to the side, a murderous glint in his eye. “The Lady’s got us tangled up in her games again.”
“Of course it couldn’t be as simple as just reaching the damn X,” Vinicola mutters beside me. “I warned you.”
“You did,” Fabien replies, barely looking up.
But it doesn’t matter who said what; what matters is the timeline. The spot we need to reach, right between the two islands, isn’t moving. We still have to be there tomorrow, at dusk or dawn. If dusk…
“We need to move,” I say, cutting through their murmurs. “Split into pairs, quick. Each goes for whatever it is we need to retrieve from these islands. Ridley, how long until we’re expected back?”
Ridley’s fingers tap rhythmically as he calculates. “About twelve hours until dawn. Another twenty-four until the next dusk.”
I nod, that cold weight settling in my gut. “Then that’s the window.”
I look between Vini, Fabien, and Zayan, sizing up the challenge we’re about to throw ourselves into. The Lady’s meddling is clear enough—she gets her kicks watching us scrape and squirm, her tests designed to chip away at us until we’re barely holding on. And now? We’re closer to facing her Trial than ever. Like hell I’ll give her the satisfaction of hesitation, even if the thought of splitting up on those islands leaves a sour pit in my gut.
“Pairs,” I say, the plan forming before I’ve got time to second-guess it.
Zayan’s gaze locks onto mine, expectant, like he already knows where this is going—or at least where he wants it to. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to pair up with him too, keep him within reach, know exactly what’s happening to him every second. But there’s no room for that kind of thinking. Not now. Now I need to think like the captain of our crew.
“We’ve got two islands, both different as night and day.” I cast a quick look at the jungle-shrouded one and feel my skin prickle. “And if it’s all the same, I’d rather keep clear of one of them. Jungle’s a damn weakness of mine, and I’m not about to pretend otherwise. Vinicola?” I turn to the bard.
