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Years at sea do strange things to a man’s mind.
I pondered these things as I stood in a glade, not even realizing my feet had stopped moving. I stared up at the night sky through a break in the treetops, but I couldn’t find my North Star for the trees.
Footsteps rustled in the leafy brush around me before a bright pop of red hair burst forth from the shadows. Clara looked up, her face cleaner than I’d seen it in weeks from washing up here on the island.
“I thought it’d be obvious I came all the way out here to be alone.”
“Aye, Cap’n, maybe you aren’t the only one in need of a bit of solitude away from those rank men.” She shook her head. “Turns out we just happened to have the same idea. Don’t worry. I’ll be going that way and hopefully we won’t cross each other again till it’s time to board.” She turned away, heading off into the dark forest perpendicular to the way she came.
“Wait,” I said, my heart suddenly sinking as I realized I’d left Clara alone with thirty-plus men. “Did any of the crew…did they…?”
“Stop yer worryin’, God in heaven, no. And if they tried I’d cut their hands clean off before they could lay a finger on me.”
I couldn’t hold back a small smile as Clara’s fiery reply relieved me. Of course I should’ve known better than to be concerned about her. Twice now I’d seen her bite Finley’s head off for looking at her too long.
“Well, I’ll be seeing you then, Cap’n. Enjoy your brooding and I’ll enjoy mine—feckin hell, what’s this?” Her voice changed swiftly, as torchlight closed in on the both of us from seemingly nowhere, illuminating the circle of strange people encircling us.
I tensed, whipping my head to all sides to take in my new surroundings. Tall, sturdy, warrior-strong men and fiercely elegant women stood around us, a scrutinizing look in their eyes as they held us in place with their silent gaze. A woman stepped forward, the torchlight setting her dark tan skin aglow. She was old, with likely the same number of wrinkles as paths she’d trodden in life. She watched me with dark indigo eyes set deep and above the white paint markings on her cheekbones, clothed in woven palm fibers and a blanket of animal skin draped around her. Her graying hair poked through strands of black and strings of shells woven throughout.
She approached me. Clara drew her dagger in haste, but I stilled her with a motion of my hand. I kept my hands where the woman and her tribe could easily see them, to show them I meant no harm. But if I was trespassing on their island, perhaps I’d already done more harm than I realized.
She looked me over, a single word crawling from her lips as if she was tasting a bitter drink.
“Hidden,” she lifted her chin, “How?” She asked, her eyes glistening but still sharp as steel.
“What does she mean?” Clara snapped, ready to pounce at any minute. A tall man who had been standing next to the woman stepped forward. His light brown skin was mottled in scars up his arms and across his back and shoulders.
“She means, we are a hidden people. An island hidden from mortal eyes.” I was startled at the perfect English he spoke. “She asks how you found this place.”
I stood startled, unsure how to answer, still processing the sudden change around me as well as his impossible question. Hidden island? I’d seen it clear as day as I sailed right for it.
“I don’t know. I just saw it. I needed to find a place for my men to rest and repair our ship. We’ll be leaving soon.” I spoke clearly, though I felt myself rushing a bit.
The scarred man spoke to the elder woman in a language I didn’t recognize, not taking his eyes off me. She answered him with the same and they nodded. His eyes narrowed as he addressed me again, his voice sure and unwavering. “Men like you never leave without taking something. You will destroy this island and the last of these people like all the others.”
“I—I intend to take nothing. I’m no explorer, I’m not—”
“Even if you leave, you will tell others of this land. They will come. And do what they’ve done best for decades.” He glanced at his scars, almost seeming like he hadn’t meant to, and then quickly refocused.
“How…” I stammered, “How do you speak English so well if you’ve been hiding from the outside world?”
“I was not born of this tribe by blood. I was taken from my home. By men like you on a ship like yours. I spent many years among the Spanish and English-speaking people. I learned your languages because with mine I had no voice…” My eyes fell as a feeling of guilt lanced through me. Could my father have played a part in this man’s capture, I wondered? A sick feeling refused to settle in my stomach as the man went on. “Thank the sea gods I was brought along for one voyage in particular. A voyage my captor and his family did not survive. They shipwrecked near this island. I washed up here, and was welcomed by these people. I told them what happened to me. I warned them to hide this refuge of theirs. So they blessed this island with their ancient power, by the stars and moon and sun, so that none can see it from afar.”
I stood, still taking in everything he told me, searching the depths of my racing thoughts for a worthy-enough response. Stopping here for the night was a foolish decision. I should’ve known better. I’d wasted time and possibly put us all in danger. “I…I’m sorry for what happened to you. I won’t reveal this island. To anyone…I swear it. I’ll board my ship and command my crew to leave now.”
But they didn’t seem willing to negotiate. I waited as the man translated to the elder woman. She looked me up and down, then at Clara, with suspicious movements. The group around her stood unmoving, their torches still flickering as they awaited her next statement. Then one more commandment flew from her lips.
23
Island of the Sun
Milo
“She asks that you remove your shirt,” the man said. I hesitated, but slowly moved to pull off my tunic as he urged me to hurry.
The old woman neared me, looking my body over as she circled, her regal frame seemingly gliding over the forest floor. I held my breath. Every moment my own heartbeat grew louder in my ears until she stopped, fixated on the tattoo on my arm. As she explained something in her language to the man, she tensed her jaw.
“The Star you bear grants you mercy.” I followed the woman’s gaze to my North Star tattoo as the man spoke. “But you also have a dark power on you, she says. A dark enchantment that opposes ours and draws darkness to our island.” He pointed to my arm with Bastian’s mark.
