Tears shone in his haunted eyes. Vi’s lips parted, but no sound escaped. She was held in place by her father and by the weight of his truths.
“Father, this is different,” she finally insisted, her voice weaker than she would’ve liked.
“Is it? Or is this just another turn of a vortex that every Solaris will drown in?”
Vi didn’t have an answer. She wanted to. She desperately wanted to. But nothing came. And, as if sensing the crack in her determined exterior, her father continued.
“Leave this behind and come back to the Main Continent with me. Return to your family.”
“I…”
“Vi, please. I have longed for our family to be together as much as you have. Leave the world to the hands of fate.” His father’s arms tightened around her, pulling her to him. “Leave it all behind, and come home with me.”
Vi closed her eyes, returning her father’s embrace. No matter how old she became, part of her would always be the girl soothed by her parents’ arms.
“Vi…”
She whispered, “I’ll talk to Taavin about starting a course for Norin.”
Her father tightened his grasp, holding her to the point of pain—though Vi couldn’t tell if the ache came from his hold, or from within.
* * *
She was behind the helm, adjusting course slightly. The wood was weathered and worn, ashen from the beating sun. Vi felt the same heat on her cheeks, deepening the natural tan of her skin.
On her left was Meru and the end of the world she was expected to meet. On her right, across the Shattered Isles, was the Dark Isle and her waiting family. At her feet was the scythe that was part of a far more bloody history than she fully understood.
And she was trapped between them all.
Movement below deck wrenched her back to reality from her tangle of thoughts. A familiar mess of dark hair emerged from the cabin, the late afternoon sun picking up purple notes as the sky turned to red. The days were undeniably shorter now. Vi would bet they only had six or seven hours of daylight now—a change too dramatic to have anything to do with the summer months stretching toward winter.
“My father?” she asked as Taavin approached.
“Asleep. It seems to be restful,” Taavin said softly.
“Arwin?” Vi had expected Taavin to emerge the moment Arwin entered the cabin after Vi had offered to take the second shift. But he hadn’t, and Vi had been too grateful for the silence to investigate.
“Asleep on the floor.” Vi gave him a look and Taavin let out a low chuckle. “I was just as shocked.”
“I expected her to kick you from your cot.”
“Me too.” Taavin looked out over the bow of the boat, where Vi’s eyes remained transfixed. “How long until Risen?”
“If we go straight there… perhaps two days?” Vi answered delicately.
“Why wouldn’t we go straight there?” Taavin shifted mostly in front of her, making it impossible for her to avoid his piercing stare.
“I was thinking of making a quick stop in Norin.”
“No.”
“It would only add two—three days.”
“Vi—”
“We can drop off my father.” She decided not to bring up the fact that her father had begged her not to go onward with her plans to seek out her destiny involving the scythe.
“We risk being caught.” Taavin frowned. “Moreover, what makes you think your father will let you go once he has you back on the Dark Isle?”
