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I wander down to the fringe of the water with Erik, wishing it was daylight and warm enough to slip my toes in and feel the sea. The water goes on forever, at moments peaceful and then bursting with a wave that washes down with mighty force, nearly reaching our feet.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur.
“I ran from my village,” Erik whispers, “but I never stopped missing it.”
“Was it like this? The Endless Sea?”
“Yes and no. It was calmer. Why control the ocean if you can’t control it?” he points out.
“Why control it at all?” I wonder aloud as I stare at the magnificent, powerful waves. I can imagine how lovely the ocean’s strands would feel on a loom, strong and slick and ancient, but they can’t compare to standing here, looking out and never seeing where it ends.
“Mind giving us a hand?” Jost calls, and I turn to see he’s spread a thick plastic sheet on the ground.
“What’s that?”
“Our raft. I mean, if we’re still going,” he replies, pain edging into his words. Is that what it will always be like? Hurting him to exchange a few words with Erik? Would it be better to hurt Erik by ignoring him to spare Jost? Behind me the ocean laps on, beating against the shore in rhythmic bursts, reminding me that I’m small and insignificant.
Erik and Jost set to work, inflating the raft until it’s a large boat that, to be honest, looks a little flimsy considering we have to get out past these waves.
“How will we get out there?” I ask, staring at the frail raft.
Jost and Erik exchange a look, a first since we fled the estate. The fact is that the ocean is their territory and there’s no sense denying that now.
“We’ll push you out,” Erik says.
“How?” Valery asks, alarmed. She’s been quiet most of the trip, but I don’t blame her for speaking up now.
“You’ll sit in the raft and we’ll swim it out,” he replies.
“Is that a good idea?”
“I’ll help,” Dante volunteers.
“You spend much time in th
e ocean?” Jost asks.
Dante shakes his head. He’s their equal in size and strength, but even I know that doesn’t mean he has the skill to navigate this water.
“We can do this,” Erik assures us. “Fisherman’s sons, remember?”
I swallow and force a nod. I like this idea less and less, but I have to trust that they have the skill to do it. Meanwhile Dante passes foam suits to us.
“Put this on,” he orders. “That water is cold enough to kill you if you go in.”
If we go in, I think, I’m not worried about the cold. But I struggle to get my suit on. In the end, Valery and I help each other with the difficult zippers on the thick, fitted suits. Jost and Erik have theirs on before we’ve sealed the sleeves, making them waterproof. When the suit is on, it flexes enough for me to move, but it’s tight.
“And once we’re out there?” I ask, forcing myself to think ahead. I don’t like the idea of sitting in a raft while two of the people I care most for in the world drown.
“Paddle,” Jost says, swinging a long stick up for me to see.
I eye it apprehensively. “You want me to do what with that?”
Jost swings it in a small circle, dipping the flat end of it and then raising it back up for a split second before dipping it through the air once more. “I’ll call beats from behind. Right and left. If we’re going to get across this current, we’ll need to time things well.”
Behind him the water smashes hard against the rocks, each wave unpredictable. How are we supposed to get across that?
“We have four paddles,” Jost says. “Ad and Dante will each take a side in the front, and we’ll take the rear once we’ve got you over the surf.”
