Cover

Dedication

To my brothers—

Caleb, Gabriel, and Luke,

who always have the best stories

Map

Part One
A Song for Water

Chapter 1

It was safest to cross the ocean at night, when the moon and stars shone on the water. At least, that’s what Jack had been raised to believe. He wasn’t sure if those old convictions still held true these days.

It was midnight, and he had just arrived at Woe, a fishing village on the northern coast of the mainland. Jack thought the name was fitting as he covered his nose; the place reeked of herring. Iron yard gates were tinged with rust, and the houses sat crooked on stilts, every shutter bolted against the relentless howl of the wind. Even the tavern was closed, its fire banked, its ale casks long since corked. The only movement came from the stray cats lapping up the milk left for them on door stoops, from the bobbing dance of cogs and rowboats in the quay.

This place was dark and quiet with dreams.

Ten years ago, he had made his first and only ocean crossing. From the isle to the mainland, a passage that took two hours if the wind was favorable. He had arrived at this very village, borne over the starlit water by an old sailor. The man had been weathered and wiry from years of wind and sun, undaunted by the thought of approaching the isle in his rowboat.

Jack remembered it well: his first moment stepping onto mainland soil. He had been eleven years old, and his initial impression was that it smelled different here, even in the dead of night. Like damp rope, fish, and woodsmoke. Like a rotting storybook. Even the land beneath his boots had felt strange, as if it grew harder and drier the farther south he traveled.

“Where are the voices in the wind?” he had asked the sailor.

“The folk don’t speak here, lad,” the man had said, shaking his head when he thought Jack wasn’t looking.

It took a few more weeks before Jack learned that children born and raised on the Isle of Cadence were rumored to be half wild and strange themselves. Not many came to the mainland as Jack had done. Far fewer stayed as long as he had.

Even after ten years, it was impossible for Jack to forget that first mainland meal he had partaken of, how dry and terrible it had tasted. The first time he had stepped into the university, awed by its vastness and the music that echoed through its winding corridors. The moment he realized that he was never returning home to the isle.

Jack sighed, and the memories turned to dust. It was late. He had been traveling for a sennight, and now he was here, defying all logic and ready to make the crossing again. He just needed to find the old sailor.