Rinka tried to read what he was thinking behind his furrowed expression. Disappointment that their game was over, or perhaps relief to finally be able to be honest with her.
And maybe a bit of fear of how the answer would change things between them.
Rinka feared that too.
“Don’t tell me yet,” she said. “I want to ask my final question. But once we’re safely on the shore.”
Drystan nodded and relaxed, fully breathing out for the first time during their conversation.
“Now,” he said, helping Rinka to her feet. Only once she was standing did she realize that the boat moved far less than it should have among the choppy sea waters. It had an ability to ride the waves that seemed as if it wasn’t moving at all. “Are you ready to row? It’s going to take quite a while to reach land from this far out, and we need to hurry before the current takes us around to the eastern side of Wilderise. It’ll be hard to come ashore there on account of the cliffs.”
There was a comfort in his tone. He spoke about reaching the land as though it were a certainty.
“What about the ferry? The passengers on board? What if they throw more of them over as they did to us?”
“I’m afraid we’re in no position to help them, but we’ll follow the ferry’s path as well as we can. Hopefully, the example they made of us will be enough to keep the others safe.”
Rinka could just spot the light of the ferry fading into the distance in the direction of Wilderise. She thought of the poor Halfling on board, hoping that he’d just give up the ring the next time he was asked.
Drystan reached beyond the boat, producing another column of water that turned into an oar as it reached Rinka’s hands. Like the boat itself, it felt wet and cool to the touch, but it did not slip through her fingers as she held it.
“Away we go,” Drystan said once he had produced a second oar for himself.
When the oars hit the water, they seemed to lose their form for a fraction of a second, and Rinka worried his plan would not work. But they quickly regained their shape, and the impossible boat was propelled through the dark waves, floating with an unnatural smoothness towards Wilderise’s shores.
After hours of rowing, Rinka’s arms were numb with exhaustion. It was still dark, the nearly full moon having crossed half of the sky during their journey.
Rinka’s stomach growled. Drystan had been able to pull the fresh water from the air without breaking his concentration on the boat, collecting it into a disconcertingly round blob that somehow did not break when held but that still could be drunk from.
But he could not manage anything for them to eat, and it had been a long time since the sandwiches they had eaten on the boat, the pirates having interrupted what should have been dinner.
“We must be nearly there by now,” said Rinka. “Are you certain we’re going the right way?”
“Yes, I’m certain. We won’t hit land at Sudport, but we’re heading north.”
The tone of Drystan’s voice had changed, and his shoulders were slumped now, the effort of lifting the oar seeming greater and greater with every stroke.
Rinka was surprised. Having seen him bare-chested, he was not lacking muscle.
“Maybe we should take a rest,” she said. They had taken a couple to drink and stretch their arms. What harm could a few minutes more do?
“No,” he said. “If we drift much more to the east, we won’t meet the coast at all.” He took a couple more strokes and then slumped over.
“Is it the magic?” she asked.
“Yes,” he muttered. “I don’t know how much longer—”
The oar in Rinka’s hands splashed over her dress and into the bottom of the boat. She leaned forward, catching Drystan before he fell overboard.
“Stay with me!” she said. The boat was holding for now, but it rippled alarmingly around them. “Drystan, wake up! You have to stay awake.” She splashed some water on his face. He blinked his eyes open.
Rinka wasn’t actually sure if he needed to be awake for the boat to continue existing, but it seemed likely to her. She searched the horizon. How far could they possibly be?
There it was. It was as far away as her eyes could see, but it was there nonetheless. Land.
“I can see land! Drystan, can you make me an oar? You can rest on the bottom of the boat. I can get us the rest of the way.”
“You’re nice,” he said. “I’m just going to rest my eyes.”
