“Let’s go,” I said.
We climbed back into the car. The drive to the port took about fifteen minutes. It was a tiny one, just a fishing village on the coast with a few houses scattered on the hill above. Half a dozen brightly painted boats bobbed on their moorings. A large white yacht was motoring toward the small dock as we climbed out of the car.
“Is that it?” I asked Aidan.
“Yeah. A friend’s boat.”
“You have fancy friends.”
“Some. At least this one loaned me his boat.”
“You loan him your plane?” I asked.
“I would, but he has his own.”
I shook my head. I might have a trove of treasure stashed away in my secret closet, but that was just because I scrimped and saved everything we made from the shop. It wasn’t a tiny amount of money because treasure hunting paid well. But it wasn’t like my wealth improved my life. It just fed a compulsion that was almost as annoying as it was pleasurable.
We walked onto the dock as the cold sea air cut through my jacket. Aidan carried the brown paper package. A thank you present for the boat’s owner? How did he manage to be so polite while we were on a job? I guess I had to give him credit.
The boat didn’t even tie off to the dock. It just pulled up and we hopped on. There was a rowboat hanging from davits at the back and a pilothouse on the second level in the front. The deckhand who led us to the pilothouse was some kind of low-level water witch from the smell of his magic. Vaguely fishy. Higher-level supernaturals normally smelled better. It was an unfair part of magical life.
The pilothouse looked like it ran a spaceship. The captain was a big guy, a shifter of some sort. I couldn’t tell from the smell of him because it was harder for me to ID shifters, but I hoped he was some kind of shark or whale or something.
“Welcome aboard, Aidan,” the captain said. His Scottish brogue was thick. “Mr. Carridy sends his respects.”
So the owner wasn’t on board.
“Captain Alden. Thank you for taking us,” Aidan said. “Cass? Can you point us in the right direction?”
I focused on the feel of the string around my waist and turned to face the direction from which it pulled.
“That way,” I said, pointing to the left. Port, I thought it was called. “I don’t know how far. A few miles?”
“Are ye certain?” Captain Alden asked. “I’ve run these waters for twenty years. There’s nothing that way. Not until the North Pole.”
“Of course there isn’t,” I muttered. “Just my luck. Ghost island.”
“I suppose it’s possible,” Captain Alden said. “Wouldn’t be the first time magic has been used to hide an island.”
I closed my eyes and focused on the thread about my middle that pulled me northwest. The connection was strong. “It’s that way. I can’t feel precisely where it is, but well before the North Pole.”
“All right then, we’ll head that way. You can tell me when it’s close? I don’t want to run aground.”
“Yes. It still feels miles off.”
We stared silently out at the sea as the motor rumbled and waves slapped against the hull. Fog was starting to roll across the water, concealing the gray waves. The effect was eerie and added to the tension inside the pilothouse. I tried to keep from bouncing on my feet. No one needed to know how anxious I was. We could handle this. We’d survived a decade on the run. This was just one little hurdle. Get the scroll, destroy it. Risk averted.
But how could I destroy the scroll without Aidan realizing I’d done it on purpose? That would open me up to a lot of uncomfortable questions.
That was the one thing I hadn’t figured out yet, and it scared the crap out of me.
“I’m going to head outside.” I needed a minute to myself. “Can I just wave at you from the bow if I feel us getting closer?”
“Aye, that’ll be fine,” Captain Alden said. “Just be sure to stand at the very front where I can see you.”
“All right.” I hightailed it out of the pilothouse and down the stairs, taking them two at a time. I shook my arms, hoping to banish my nerves.
I crossed the rolling deck to the bow and found a spot beneath an overhang where I was pretty sure no one could see me. The captain was right above me. If I felt us nearing the island, I’d run a few feet to where he could see me and alert him. The biting wind cut through my jacket as I stared out at the water. The smell of the sea was strong, but not enough to block out Aidan’s evergreen scent when he leaned against the wall next to me.
“Hey,” he said.
“What’s up?” I asked.
He handed me the paper package he’d been carrying earlier.
“What’s this?”
“For you.”
A gift? I tore open the paper and found a plain white box. When I opened it, two gleaming obsidian daggers rested inside.
My throat tightened. “What are these?”
“A replacement for your old pair. They’re enchanted to return to you.”
“How’d you get them? They’re really rare.”