Dion returned to Cob as the Liberty now glided over the still water, oars hovering above the surface, everything carefully controlled to create as few ripples as possible. It was far from a windy day, which was fortunate because there was little to disturb the sea, but it also meant that the heat radiating down from the rising sun was already searing hot. As they came closer to Malakai, he vowed to never again complain about a summer’s day in Xanthos.

The ship became quiet, slipping over the surface of the sea with the smooth sound of flowing water. Along with the crew, Dion stared down into the sea, but despite discerning a maze of light and dark patches, the ocean floor was still too deep to make out what he was seeing. Then he heard a sailor shout from the other side of the vessel. ‘Look!’

Dion, along with almost everyone on the top deck, crossed to the opposite side, gripping the rail and peering down into the water. The ocean was clear and still. Until now he’d been seeing little more than murky shadows, but suddenly he could make out distinct forms.

‘By Silex,’ Dion breathed.

Down below, resting on the ocean floor, were the long, curved walls of an immense, oval-shaped structure. Dion wondered for a moment what it was before he realized.

They were sailing over a crumbled amphitheatre.

Its shape made it clear what it was. But the sheer scale of it was baffling, almost disturbing. The Liberty passed over it for long minutes, each onlooker trying to imagine how many people had once been seated far below. They were all ghosts now, every one of them killed when Aleuthea sank long ago.

Unless, of course, the rumors about Malakai’s conqueror were true.

Dion glanced at Cob, and then at the crewmen, seeing that they were all gazing down into the water.

‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Cob said.

‘I thought you said you’ve traveled to the Aleuthean Sea before.’

‘It was rough the last time, and we had to keep clear of the Lost Souls.’

The great ship continued to glide; her momentum would carry her forward for a long time before power was needed. After the amphitheatre, Dion saw hills and winding paths, broken houses and fallen towers. He looked out at the sea. The Lost Souls covered a huge area. The sunken city was immense.

‘How far below do you think it is?’

‘Thirty feet? Fifty? It’s hard to tell.’

Cob’s head snapped forward when a youth at the bow called out. The old man shoved the helm hard, and with a spike of fear Dion realized they’d been heading straight for a tower of some kind, with just a few flat stones showing above the surface. If the tide had been just a little higher, they might not have seen it at all.