“How can we go there to hike?” he asked desperately, and she shook her head.
“Private boat only,” she said. “You have to buy private tour.”
“Where can I do that?” he asked, and she shrugged.
“Private boat,” she repeated. Florian stifled a groan and thanked her, and, dismayed, the two walked away from the ticket booth.
There was a sitting area near the dock where the ferry would come and go that was mostly empty now, so they sat at a bench facing the water and pored over the brochure, but it didn’t have any other helpful information. The only other people waiting for the ferry were a family of five—the parents appeared rather frazzled as they argued over a timetable, while their children played and ran up and down the length of the dock—and an old man sitting on the furthest bench, who looked like he might be sleeping.
“There has to be some place around here that does private tours or something,” Florian muttered, searching on his phone once more. “She said you have to get a private boat. So there must be some way to get to that hiking trail, or they wouldn’t have it listed at all.”
“Right,” Koji said, nodding. “And if we can get to the hiking trail, we should be able to check out the whirlpool, too.”
“I would bet anything the curtain is somewhere near there,” Florian said. “Look, this says it’s the second-strongest whirlpool in the world. That has to mean something.”
“You boys trying to get a ride to Mosken?”
Florian jumped, whirling around. Behind them, the old man who appeared to have been sleeping was looming over their bench. This close, his face was grizzled with gray stubble, his skin lined from the sun and wind. His eyes were a pale blue and peered down at them expressionlessly, apparently unphased by their surprise.
“Do you—Are you a sailor?” Florian stammered, completely unnerved. How had the man heard them from the other side of the sitting area? Had he been listening in on them the whole time? The man glanced between them, his face remaining stony.
“Hoping to spot some krakens?” he asked. Florian’s heart leapt up into his throat in shock. Alarm bells were still going off in the back of his head, but if the old man was from the kraken kingdom, guarding the curtain in the same way a dragon shifter had guardedtheircurtain, this might be their best chance at getting there. It might even be their only chance.
Florian glanced sidelong at Koji, who looked over at him with a carefully blank expression. He had been startled by the man’s sudden appearance, too, but seemed to also understand that they apparently had no other option but to ask for the man’s help.
“Yeah, we are,” Florian said slowly, ignoring the distinct feeling that if Kade were here, this conversation wouldn’t be happening at all, or at least would be going very differently. “I, uh, heard they’re... behind a curtain.”
The man was silent for a long moment, motionless except for his sunken, pale eyes occasionally flicking from Florian to Koji, then back again. Koji remained silent, but Florian could feel the tension in his shoulders from how close they were sitting.
Finally, the man gestured for them to follow and abruptly turned around.
“Come on, then,” he said. Florian looked at Koji again, bewildered, but the other man seemed just as unsure.
It was the best lead they had, no matter how creepy the guy was. So, stifling a sigh, Florian grabbed his backpack and hurried after the man, Koji trailing close behind. The man led them to the docks further north, where several small boats and dinghies were moored.
“What’s your name?” Florian blurted out as he caught up to the old man, who proved to be surprisingly agile. He was much taller than either of them, and he looked down at Florian with an unimpressed expression at the question.
“Carl,” he said, still utterly monotone. “And yours?”
For a moment, Florian wondered if he should give the man a fake name, but he couldn’t come up with one fast enough.
“I’m Florian,” he said simply. “And that’s Koji.”
Carl only grunted in reply. He led them to a small motorboat moored at the far end of the harbor, dark and shabby-looking like him. He stepped onboard, then gestured for them to follow.
Florian hesitated on the dock, Koji stopping just behind him. He could feel the other boy’s trepidation, too, but what else were they going to do? They had to get to Mosken. And if the guy really was just a creep, maybe the both of them together could shove him overboard and take his boat. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that, but...
“Fuck,” Florian muttered under his breath, but stepped onto the boat all the same. Koji followed him silently, his eyes staying locked on Carl. The old man didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. He got the motor running and soon the boat was pulling out of the harbor, heading south through the water.
They sailed in silence for a long while, then Carl’s gravelly voice broke the tense quiet once.
“You seen krakens before?” he asked, as monotone as if he were commenting on the weather.
Florian and Koji glanced at each other briefly again, then Florian replied, “No, but we’ve heard a lot about them.”
Carl’s eyes seemed to narrow, but he didn’t answer. What was he suspicious of? Florian wondered, half in a panic, if they had just gotten onto a boat with a random delusional man. But he had to be a shifter, didn’t he? He mentioned both Mosken and the krakens—what were the chances he would talk about both things and not be from the Veil himself?
“So, uh, are you from there? The kraken kingdom?” Florian asked, trying to keep his tone as mild as possible, while still loud enough to be heard over the sound of the motor running. Carl shot him another suspicious glare.
