When the latter yielded to the sound of singing, we slowed and continued more discreetly through the trees.The wash of the waves grew closer, and, ahead in the fading daylight, I saw the glint of water among the trees.
I slowed, sure I had wandered into the Other.But though it still inhabited the periphery of my vision, the forest was whole and real, and Mary’s form was unchanged.This side of the island had simply flooded with the rising tides.
Harmonies drifted among the trees, interspersed with laughter and clapping.
“Eerie,” Mary murmured as she tugged her skirts up through her belt and pulled off her shoes, which she began to shove into one pocket.
I watched the second shoe disappear, momentarily distracted.“Just how much can you fit in there?”
“A bottle of wine.An infant.”
“You tried?”
“The wine, yes.”
The sound of the Black Tide cultists’ singing rose with the waves and the wind, and my eyes strayed back towards them.Lights pricked in the glowing gloom, a dance of flame amid shades of grey and lavender twilight.
By unspoken agreement, we set off again.The water grew deeper the closer we came, thick with drifting pine needles and twigs, and the occasional brush of what I hoped were fish.When it soaked even the hem of Mary’s hiked skirts, we paused behind a large, stocky tree and peered through the gloaming.
Some thirty figures occupied a clearing at the edge of the forest, facing the west and the last vestiges of violet-orange sunlight.The tide was so high in places that some figures were submerged to their waists, while the body of the group moved about through knee-deep water.Some were fully clothed.Some had their trousers or skirts tucked up, while one man, his eyes dulled with drug, wandered nude through the shadowed trees, singing in a baritone so deep I felt its rumble in my skull.He bore a torch, and every so often a bit of oiled reed peeled away.Flaming, it drifted down onto the waves and extinguished.
By far the eeriest sight, however, was the ghisting.The cowled figure of the Midden Ghist was thinly manifest, spectral flesh cladding his harvested wooden statue in the center of the clearing.Evidently it had been placed on an unseen pedestal to keep it from the salty waves, and it presided over its worshippers with luminescent, sea-glass eyes.It had its familiar crown about its throat like a noose, and its arms clasped over its chest in a cadaver’s repose.
Mary’s fingers dug into my arm.“I know that ghisting,” she hissed.Her voice shifted, drifting into Tane’s lower register.“We saw its likeness in the halls of the Ess Noti.”
“The Black Tide have been worshipping that ghisting for generations,” I murmured.“It does not seem far-fetched to imagine the Ess Noti informed themselves about the creature and the cult.”
“Informing themselves is one thing, carving a stone statue is another,” Mary returned.“Tane could speak with it, but not every ghisting respects a Mother Ghisting as they should.Particularly the worshipped ones.”
I made a sound of agreement, recalling Adalia Day’s roots harrying us out of the Oruse.
I pulled her after me into the shadow of my tree, farther into concealment.“This connection sits ill with me.I need to speak with my uncle… the loyalties of all Black Tide cultists are suspect.”
Mary began to nod, but froze.Leaning back out around the tree, she peered through the darkness.“That’s Lieutenant Adler!The one who attempted to recruit me.”
Following her gaze, I found the offending man dressed in common garb and leaning against one of the trees and staring out at the ocean with drug-hazed eyes.
“He shames himself,” I muttered, neglecting to mention how the sight of him made rage coil in my chest.“Himself and the entire service.”
The lieutenant’s presence was more than shameful, however.It meant the Black Tide had devotees among the Navy, and, where an officer went, many common sailors and soldiers would follow.The Black Tide had never been outwardly violent—save towards the mages submitted to their ministrations—but any connection to military power sat ill in my mind.
I said as much to Mary, my voice so low that I had to repeat myself.
“I dislike that Adler is the one who approached you,” I added, the words far too mild.“Perhaps it is no coincidence to find him here.”
“Or perhaps he is simply more unorthodox than his peers,” Mary pointed out.“Regardless, I refuse to be afraid of the Black Tide.”
The image of Mary, held down and blinded by chanting cultists, momentarily assaulted me.It was no vision, but it was still clear enough to make my mouth dry.“Do you see anyone else you recognize?”
“Enisca.”
“Pardon me?”
I twisted to follow Mary’s gaze.There, in the shadow of another tree, Enisca Alamay watched us.She raised a hand, gesturing for quiet with the Usti’s three-fingered tap to the lips, then she approached.
“What are you doing here?”Mary asked the spy in a whisper.
Ms.Alamay wore trousers and a long coat, loose about the waist.Her hair was hidden under a kerchief, and I caught the scent of pine sap and salt.
