“Captain Jensen?” Sophie made her way to the front of the small boat, where the man who’d introduced himself as Samuel Jensen stood looking out over the ocean. He’d agreed to take them where they needed to go for seven of Eloisa’s pearls, his eyes lighting appreciatively when he saw the gems.
“Yes, lass?” He turned from the rail. He hadn’t asked for their names, which made her rather suspect that his name was no more Samuel Jensen than hers was, but she didn’t care. They were safely off Anglion soil. She’d stood at the rear of the boat once they’d come aboard, transferring from the small dinghy that had come to fetch them off the beach, watching as the Anglion shoreline disappeared into the darkness. She thought she’d feel sad at the sight when it finally faded from view entirely, but there was, at the moment, only relief.
“How long does it take?” she asked, gesturing in the direction they were headed.
He shrugged. “Depends a little on the winds. Most of a day, though. Should be there around dusk. Which will make getting wherever you’re going a bit easier for you. Harder to be sneaky in daylight.” He grinned at her, revealing teeth that gleamed very white in the moonlight. He hardly looked like her idea of a smuggler. No, he looked more like a court gentleman. He wore a long dark-gray jacket—velvet, she’d discovered when he’d helped her into the dinghy and her hands had clutched his arms—and a black shirt and breeches that were equally well made.
“Is it safe to sail in daylight?”
“Safe enough. Don’t worry, lass. My cloaking ward is as good as any your man there could cast.”
Her brows flew up. “You’re an Illusioner?”
“Once upon a time,” he said. “Best not to ask questions about that. No more than I’ll ask why an earth witch is taking herself off to Illvya in the middle of the night. This business works better with a bit of ignorance to help it along.”
She smiled at that. “I imagine it does.” She took another lungful of salty air, trying to believe she was safe now. But goddess knew what was waiting for them in Illvya. So maybe best not to believe in safety just yet.
“You should go below and sleep like your husband,” Captain Jensen said. “Rest.”
“I tried. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Ah. Yes. It takes some people like that.”
“What does?”
“Fleeing for your life. Danger.” He swept a hand out over the water. “Freedom.”
“Is that why you do what you do? For freedom?”
He shrugged. “Something like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a ship to sail. You’re welcome to stay up here, but move if any of the crew asks you to. You needn’t worry about any of them. No paid passenger ever came to harm at my crew’s hands. Just mind you don’t tip yourself overboard.”
In the end she did sleep, curled beside Cameron on a straw pallet. Slept until one of the crew shook them both awake an hour or so before dusk. They climbed back on deck and ate bread and apples and freshly caught fried fish with Samuel Jensen, washing it down with wine. Then Sophie took up her spot on the prow again, watching the small rocky island Chloe had told them about grow closer and closer. Cameron eventually joined her, and they sat in silence together.
Eventually the ship came to a stop, sails were drawn in, and the anchor thrown overboard. Evidently they would travel the rest of the distance on the dinghy.
Jensen came up to stand beside them as his crew bustled around them.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked as the dinghy was lowered onto the water. “Last chance to change your minds. We can take you safely home again. You wouldn’t be the first.”
Sophie looked at Cameron. Saw nothing but determination in his eyes. Felt his hand, strong and warm, tighten slightly in reassurance. She shook her head. “We’re sure,” she said, and climbed to her feet.
The captain left them on the tiny spit of beach on the rocky outcrop, pointing out the faint path that would—unless both he and Chloe had played them false—lead them up to the portal and wishing them good luck before he and the men manning the dinghy rowed rapidly back to the slight shimmering blur that was the warded ship.
Sophie brushed as much sand as she could off the damp hem of her skirt, then found a rock to sit on whilst she put her boots—removed for the wade through the shallows to the beach—back on. Cameron did much the same, tugging on his boots and checking his pistol for damp.
Then he stood. “Well, then. I suppose we should find this portal before it gets full dark.”
She nodded and followed him. It was only a short path, though steep in several places. It led up off the beach and then curved, climbing again before stopping abruptly in front of a cleft in the rock. A cave. The dark entrance didn’t look inviting. But there was no other place to go.
“I don’t suppose you brought a candle?” Cameron asked.
“No, but I can do this.” She bent and picked up a stone. Then conjured earth-light around it. It wasn’t the brightest light ever but better than stepping into a cave with nothing.
Cameron laughed. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Earth-lights are just stones,” she pointed out. “Shaped to be pretty, and yes, the temple says they’re blessed, but that’s just show. It’s the stone part that’s important. Stone comes from the earth.”
With the faint golden glow lighting their way, they moved cautiously into the cave. The air inside was damp and the footing slick but sure enough. The small earth-light revealed the symbol Chloe had drawn for them set, portal fashion, into the wall.
They both stared at it for a moment.
“No point waiting, I guess,” Sophie said after a moment.
“No. Nothing much to see on this rock. And we’re not going to suddenly look more like Illvyans if we keep standing here,” Cameron agreed. He reached for her hand. “Let’s go.”