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I knock on the door. “Jonah?” I have to believe he can’t hear me, but when an answering groan comes back, I wince. “How bad is it?”
“I think I’m dead.” At least he can joke about it.
“I’m coming in.”
Jonah’s room is a mirror image of mine. All the curtains are drawn, a smart move considering it’s an otherwise bright and cheery morning in the mountains. “I assume you don’t want any breakfast?—”
Jonah groans in response.
“—Or will be up right any time soon to come out to the Festival with me, eh?”
The man actually whimpers. “Baby girl, this is not how I meant to start my day. Those wolves or something else.”
“You mean Wulvers?” I laugh and earn a withering look from Jonah. With his silk mask pushed up on his forehead, his usually intimidating stare lacks a certain punch.
Still, I have to hand it to him. Despite his night, he’s changed into his silk jammies and followed his skincare routine before dragging himself to death’s door. That’s way more than I would have done.
“It’s not fair. They started a drinking game. But I don’t think it was a game. I don’t think it was actual drinks. It might have been straight gasoline at the end.”
I roll my eyes. Thankfully, he doesn’t see me. “As if your grandpappy’s moonshine is any different. That stuff will kill you.”
Jonah slumps back on to his pile of pillows. “I just need a little bit of a nap. I can get to the afternoon stuff, right? There’s stuff during the day, but then there’s stuff at night. Like that dinner event thing, correct?”
“Yes, so much stuff,” I reassure him. “Go ahead and recover here. I’ll just be scoping out the island, and from what I see, the showcase will still be up tomorrow, and we can go back there. The big annual sculpture display will be the next morning, anyway.”
“I can’t believe I won’t be part of the first group on that exclusive island. I might as well die.”
Jonah hates to be left out of anything new and exciting. I pat his head. “Well, you’re lucky I love you because I scheduled an order of the Mountain Special breakfast for you, which has all your favorite breakfast stuff, including biscuits and gravy. It’ll be ready whenever you are.”
“I knew there were benefits to this job.”
He passes out with a smile on his handsome face. I adjust his sleep mask so that it covers his eyes and tiptoe out.
The mists rising from the water with the lemon-yellow sun overhead hit me with a wave of nostalgia. Memories of my childhood in upstate New York fill my heart as I make my way to the dock at the edge of the inn’s property.
I follow the glossy map that came with my welcome basket. It’s a peaceful walk over the trail to the dock. Even I can’t get lost.
The lake starts off like a small pond here and then opens up to an even bigger body of water. It reminds me of the manicured lakes around amusement parks. There I go again, thinking that this is manufactured. For all I know, it might be.
From here, it’s just a short boat ride to Nusku Island, home of the resident artisans and the Firebird community.
And, hopefully, I’ll be able to feature some of them in my gallery.
A wooden sign greets me at the dock. Water taxis leave every thirty minutes. Unless otherwise instructed, the taxis travel between the Inn and Nusku Docks. Choose a boat and pick a seat. First come, first served.
I wait a few minutes to see if there would be anyone else joining me. When there are no other guests, I make my way to the first water taxi bobbing in its lane. I take the sign at its word and find a seat. I bypass the covered seating area in favor of sitting in the sun. This early in the day, it’s cool enough that I don’t have to worry about burning up.
At the top of the hour, the boat slowly eases out of its slip. I momentarily panic, thinking something must be wrong, when an overly perky voice comes over the speakers.
“Good morning and welcome aboard. Nusku Island is just a twenty-minute ride away. Please stay seated while the boat is in motion and enjoy the view. We hope you enjoy the informative video.”
Other than wishing Jonah were here to share in the novelty, the idea of a self-directed water taxi is perfect. I’m not sure how crowded it might be when tourist season picks up—because, let’s face it, it will pick up. But if Avalon Vale sticks to its highly selective screening process for a while longer, maybe they’ll avoid a lot of traffic and overcrowding.
Shimmering silhouettes dart in the water just ahead of the boat’s prow. They are bigger than fish but never breach the surface. The video alluded to many communities who call Lake Serenissima home, both above and below the surface.
After a gentle bend, the island appears straight ahead. The water taxis they arrived in are bigger, yet are still quiet. I realize then that the boats aren’t powered by motors. They just glide to where they are needed.
From this vantage point, I can see the dock teeming with people. This must be the crowd of humans that came in directly today from the town proper.
