He put his arm around me, and although the sea was immense and the gale was mighty, I was reassured. I slipped one arm around his waist; my other hand would not release its death grip on the rail. For a moment my head was against his chest, and it seemed to me that under the filthy, wet wool of his tunic I could feel his heart beating, steady and sure. “I know,” I said. “I won’t let you go, either.”

For a while I repeated passages of the lore in my head. When I no longer had the strength for that, I simply stood where I was, knowing that without the warmth of Felix’s body close to mine and the knowledge of his hope beating into me, I would be scuttling back to the hold to huddle in a pathetic ball among the baggage, wishing I had never set out on such an ill-conceived journey.

At some point I heard a series of sharp commands. The sail crackled. Liadan shuddered, then settled into a barreling, forward course.

“The wind’s changed, Sibeal,” Felix murmured in my ear. “You were right.”

“Mm,” I managed. It was indeed remarkable. The gods had smiled on us and should be thanked. But I was beyond summoning even the simplest of prayers.

For what felt like hours we stood there on the shifting deck, holding onto each other, watching as Svala balanced strong and confident in the prow and the crew toiled to exert a measure of control over the racing Liadan. There had been some uneasy looks after the wind changed, for sailors have a well-founded dread of the uncanny. But nobody made comment; they were too busy. Eventually, through the howl of the wind and the crash of the water, I heard a man shout: “Land! Land ahead!”

Svala stretched out her arms as if reaching for something that lay before us. She threw back her head and released an ear-splitting scream. And from the north a sound came, a bellowing that sent a chill up my spine. Felix started as if someone had hit him. It was an uncanny cry, deep and sad, a sound so profoundly strange that no words could fully capture it. Svala had called. Someone—something—had answered.

I saw the island. It loomed ahead, alone in the wild seas, a bastion of darkness fringed by white water, a towering fortress of sharp pinnacle and sheer cliff with no visible landing place. I could see no entry to a secret bay, no break in those improbably high bulwarks, no smaller isles nearby that might furnish a mooring.