Cade Malay had a secret. For years, even before he was old enough to go to school, he enjoyed sneaking out of his house at night and walking to the northern shore. It was a journey of several miles each way, but it passed quickly because he knew the steps by heart. Quick as a wallecta, he scurried down all the correct paths and by all the right trees until he was sitting alone, staring into the mist.
Cade knew what kind of boy he was. The kind who wore his ax-saw around his waist, wasn’t afraid to cast his stone in the right basket, and helped his friends with their hooks and scouting boats if he finished his own projects early. Most of the time Cade didn’t pass many hours considering how he felt about all these things or what sort of person he wanted to become. Cade was Cade.
Or so he thought.
Ever since his brother had sailed off and Lalani had disappeared, something had changed. He was still the same boy, but it was no longer enough. Maybe it was because of Drum. The way Drum pounded his heavy gavel against the gong and demanded that the people do more, more, more. The way he chastised the men and women, boys and girls, when they didn’t achieve his standards. Cade wondered how he had treated Lalani. How he would treat the village over the next one year, two years, ten. Sanlagita was hardly a paradise—how much worse would it get with Drum leading the charge?
Staring at the water helped Cade think, even before he knew he had so much to think about. That’s why he’d been coming to the shore now more than ever. He’d promised himself and his mother that he would never try to sail across the sea—if the others hadn’t survived, why would he?—but like most people of Sanlagita, his mind wandered with possibilities.
If there were people across the sea, were they happy? He hoped so.
Did they know of Sanlagita? He hoped not.
The water also made him think about Lalani. They hadn’t talked much, not really, but he missed her. Before Kahna fell, he’d often noticed her with Veyda and Hetsbi, and the sight of her made him nervous. Cade was rarely nervous, so the feeling had confused him at first. He wondered what was behind Lalani’s eyes the same way he wondered what was across the water, and so what if his heart jittered when he saw her?
Now the only thing that made him jittery was fear for the future.
Cade sighed. The northern shore scared most people, especially at night, but that’s when Cade loved it most. He appreciated its predictability. Night after night, the sea was the same.
Except.
Something was different tonight.
Cade peered into the fog. The change was subtle. If he hadn’t stared at this horizon hundreds of times before, he wouldn’t have noticed it. But there—not far out—the veil shifted and parted, wisps of mist lifting lazily into the air.
The veil never parted unless a ship was cutting through.
But the ships were always sailing away from Sanlagita. This ship—and yes, he saw now that it was indeed a ship—was coming toward him.
Cade stood. He put his hand on his ax-saw, but he wasn’t scared. Only curious and prepared. He didn’t move. He waited for the ship to announce itself. Soon it did. Strangely. It arrived quietly, with barely a lap of the water. Cade was already a skilled scout and shipbuilder and understood the logic of sailing, so he knew right away that there was no one on board. No one alive, anyway.
He also knew that he had seen this ship before.
He knew it well.