I laid my hand atop Erekkus’s. His soul was frantic, barely kept under control by a fraying tether of self-control. I reached for his threads and, so subtly he wouldn’t recognize it, I sent him calm.
“If I could tell you anything I knew definitively,” I said softly, “I would. I promise you that, Erekkus.”
His expression crumbled for a moment, like stone collapsing, before he straightened his back and turned away.
“Let’s get those boxes to the shore,” he said. “He wants them all ready to go as soon as the boats get here.”
And just like that, we slipped back into work—our only distraction, and all of us were grateful for it.
The boats came quickly. The supplies were ready once they did. We loaded them up immediately. Only a small force of soldiers would be going on the journey, the rest remaining at camp.
Once it was time to board, Atrius turned to me. “You should stay—” he started.
But I snapped, “Do you really think that’s going to work?”
Apparently not, because he didn’t argue. Maybe I even sensed that just a tiny part of him was relieved to have me there.
I only had time to pack a sparse bag. It wouldn’t take long to get to the island—it was only a few days away, secluded not by distance but by the thick mists that surrounded it. I threw together some clothing and food. Weapons, of course. My sword went to my hip, as usual. My dagger would go to my thigh.
But before I strapped it down, I hesitated. Alone in my tent, beneath the flickering lantern light, I unsheathed it.
The dagger the Sightmother had given me didn’t look remarkable. It was simple and plain, no ornamentation, no ethereal glow—nothing to indicate that it had been blessed. And yet, the magic of it pulsed beneath my fingertips, warming the threads with the foreboding breath of death.
I shook away a chill, sheathed the dagger, and grabbed my pack, leaving all the rest behind.
The mists were so thick that Atrius had to navigate based on maps and the compass, not sight. My abilities were useful, so I stood with him at the bow, helping to guide.
No one spoke. Atrius had been cagey about the information he dispensed. But these men had been fighting at his side for a very, very long time. They knew when something was wrong.
Eventually, the island’s silhouette emerged through the soupy white. For its small size, it was majestic, the center rising into cliffs that disappeared into the thickening clouds. Forests and greenery clustered around the mountain’s base, stretching out in all directions. Atrius steered our small makeshift fleet around the island, to its far eastern side, and docked us on a stretch of sandy beach.
The boats ground onto the shore. Atrius climbed from the boat first, when we’d barely stopped moving, and I was right behind him.
I shivered. It wasn’t cold, but I couldn’t calm the goosebumps on my arms. The beach appeared exactly as it had in my vision, right down to the narrow, trampled path leading into the trees.
Right down to the terrible emptiness.
Atrius surveyed the tree line as his warriors departed the ships. Then he turned back and looked at me. His face was set and grim—his presence even more so.
He didn’t need to ask the question aloud.
I shook my head. I sensed no one. Not a soul.
“How far is the settlement?” I asked.
“A mile, maybe. Sheltered by the trees. Not too close to the shore.”
A mile. Far enough that I wouldn’t be able to feel them from here, anyway. Still, I felt little relief.
Atrius drew his sword before we continued, then nudged my arm and gestured to mine, prompting me to follow suit. Behind us, I heard a symphony of steel against leather as the soldiers did the same.
We journeyed deep into the forest. The farther we got from the shore, the warmer it grew, the air thick and humid.
In the threads, I felt something stirring, so weak at first I couldn’t quite identify it.
“I sense something,” I murmured to Atrius.
“What?”
“I’m not sure. We’re too far.”
His steps quickened. “We’re almost there. Tell me if anything changes.”
Ahead, a clearing parted before us, the moonlight pouring silver through an opening in the tree cover.
Exactly like my vision. Many tents. A few wood-and-thatched shacks.
The strange sensation in the threads grew stronger. Weaver, it was odd—so faint, and yet so constant and all-consuming, like a distant sound coming from all directions at once. It made my head throb. I’d never felt anything like it before.
“There’s something here,” I told Atrius, voice low. “I just… I can’t tell what. Or who.”