“You okay?” he murmurs.
“Define okay.” I grab a piece of dried meat from the sack and tear off a bite. It tastes like nothing, although that’s better than the gamey funk they give first-years. “Because if okay means ‘not currently being eaten by a sea monster,’ then sure. I’m fantastic.”
Amusement flickers in his eyes, and he picks up a piece of dried meat as well, chewing thoughtfully.
Evie’s across from us, her amber eyes distant in a way that makes my chest ache. One of her research books that’s never going to help her find Oliver is balanced on her knee, its pages bristling with torn paper markers.
“Circe’s island should be in this region.” She doesn’t look up as she speaks, her finger tracing a line across the yellowed page. “She’s been the official protector of Blaze Academy for centuries. If anyone knows where Oliver ended up, or how to escape the Lost Islands, it’s her.”
Oliver isn’t going to be there. Oliver’s dead. I watched him die. I helped burn his body.
I shove another piece of meat into my mouth so I don’t have to respond.
“Circe’s the original witch,” Evie continues. “She’s been around for millennia. She has connections to forces most witches can only dream about.”
Logan shifts beside me, his thigh pressing against mine, solid and grounding.
Callie examines her fingernails with exaggerated disinterest from where she’s sitting near the railing. “Sorceresses aren’t exactly known for their hospitality,” she points out.
“She protects witches.” Evie’s jaw tightens. “Everything I’ve read says she takes in those who wash up on her shores.”
“Everything you’ve read also said these waters are full of monsters.” Callie gestures at the surrounding sea. “I don’t see any monsters.”
“Yet.” Kieran’s hand rests on his blade. “You don’t see any monstersyet.”
“Comforting.” I swallow my mouthful of tasteless meat. It scrapes my raw throat on the way down, and my stomach clenches around it like it’s not sure whether to keep it or reject it. “Really love the energy we’re bringing to this mission.”
Logan’s hand finds my knee and squeezes once, brief and reassuring, and I lean slightly closer to him. My magic hums at the proximity, electricity prickling beneath my skin like it’s reaching for him through the fabric of my clothes.
We’re going to be okay. We have to be okay.
But as I think it, my mind drifts to T. If Circe’s as old and powerful as the texts claim, maybe she knows about storm goddesses who masquerade as pilots and turn college students into lightning rods.
The boat rocks gently on water that doesn’t move.
Then Callie’s head snaps up.
“Do you hear that?”
I frown. “Hear what?”
But then, I do. A melody’s drifting across the water, threading through the gray air like it’s alive. It wraps around my chest and pulls, and the ache that’s been living there since we left the academy suddenly has a direction.
You’re lost.
The voice is inside my skull, curling through my thoughts.
You’re so lost, little storm. But I can show you the way.
It’s T’s voice, the one that’s been absent since she dropped me into this world and left me to figure it out alone.
Don’t you want to know what you are?
Yes. Gods, yes.
Then come to me. I’ll tell you everything.
My feet are moving before I realize it, carrying me to the railing. The wood’s slick under my boots, the ocean stretches wide and gray, and the answers are right there, just past the surface, just a few more steps away.
