He fit the cork back into the bottle, going quiet. “You think it’s stupid.”

He immediately wished he hadn’t said it, embarrassed. I’d never seen that look on Koy. Not ever. “No, I don’t. I think it’s brilliant.”

“You do.” He sounded skeptical.

“I mean it.”

Koy gave me a nod, leaning back into the ropes.

“Can I ask you something if I swear to never tell a soul your answer?”

His eyes narrowed at me.

I took his silence as a yes. “Why’d you cut the rope?”

He scoffed, pulling the cork from the bottle again. He was quiet a long time, taking three sips before he answered. “If anyone’s going to kill you, it’s going to be me.”

“I’m serious, Koy. Why?”

He shrugged. “You’re Jevali.”

“No, I’m not.”

His gaze was pinned to the sky. “I figure if you’ve ever fallen asleep on that island not sure if you’ll wake up again, that makes you a Jevali.”

I smiled in the dark. For the first time, my memory of those years didn’t make my heart ache. He was right. We’d survived together. And that was a bond not easily broken. In a few days he’d be headed back to Jeval, and I was surprised to find that I felt the faintest feeling of regret. I’d uncovered a part of Koy in the last two weeks I’d never seen in my four years on Jeval. I was overwhelmingly glad I’d pulled him from the water that day on the reef, even if it had ended with me running for my life on the docks.

“Get down here.” Willa’s sharp tone cut the silence.

Koy looked between his feet to see her.

She dropped a coil of knotted rope at her feet.

When she walked away, Koy arched an eyebrow at me. “I think she likes me.”

I laughed, and a look of triumph lit in his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that it felt as if we were friends. I thought maybe the same thought occurred to him before he dropped the bottle in my lap and climbed down.

“Fable.” Auster called my name from where he stood beside Paj at the helm. He tipped a chin up toward the horizon and I sat up, looking for what he saw.

Fable’s Skerry came into view as the moon set, almost invisible on the black sea. The old lighthouse was a pristine white that glowed in the dark, sitting on a thin peninsula that reached out into the water from the east side of the islet.

I jumped from the jib as West came out onto the main deck. “Reef the sheets!” He pulled his cap over his unruly hair.