Naji glanced at me. “His heart didn’t give out.”

“How do you know?”

“I went to his house.”

“What!”

“The day after you found him. I wanted to ensure I wasn’t being overly cautious.” He looked at me pointedly. “I’m not, by the way.”

Despite my irritation, a little prickle of fear trembled down my spine. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Naji said, “I spoke to his ghost.”

I shivered and wrapped my arms around my knees. “Nobody speaks to ghosts.”

“The Jadorr’a can.”

I knew he was gonna say that. Any pirate would tell you attempting to learn the language of the dead is a grave mistake – about as grave a mistake as sailing to the Isles of the Sky.

Naji had a long history of ignoring pirates’ wisdom.

“Well?” I asked.

“He was killed by a monster.”

“A monster?” I frowned out at the ocean. “What sort of monster? He couldn’t have been more specific?”

“The dead rarely are.”

I slumped up against the side of the shack. “You’re never gonna let me out again, are you?”

“Not until I determine where the monster is and how to destroy it.” Naji glanced at me. “Thank you for understanding.”

There was an undercurrent of warmth in his voice that made my toes curl up inside my boots, and I looked away from him, over at the beach curving into the forest. I knew I should speak, but I didn’t know what to say, so I muttered something about knowing how much it hurt him. As soon as I spoke I was overwhelmed by that secret I carried, the potential power of my kiss. That happened sometimes. I just got to thinking about it at the wrong moments.

Naji stood up in a shower of sand. “The sun’s going behind the clouds,” he said.

“Oh, hell.”

“But it makes it easier for me move through the woods. We’re running low on berries.”

“And running high on monsters. Maybe you could see about taking care of that nonsense first?”

Naji’s eyes brightened a little, and he said, “I plan on doing that, as well.”

I usually liked it when his eyes brightened like that, but today it annoyed me, like my having to spend days in the shack was amusing to him.

“I guess I have to go inside.”

“If you want me to actually accomplish anything, then yes.”

I sighed, stood up, and did as he asked. The air already felt stale. At least the sun was gone. Nothing worse than wasting those few precious moments of sunlight inside.

Naji hung up a pine cone charm in the doorway but didn’t leave his sword, which cheered me up a bit, since it meant he might actually have plans to hunt down this monster. I still had my doubts about a monster-monster, some beastie roaming the forest. It seems like we would have seen it already. The isles certainly threw enough horrors our way in those first few days we were stranded, before Naji had his powers back in full – all those eerie overnight transformations, trees into stones and stones into sand, and the weird lights that would blink at us out of the darkness of the woods, and the shimmer on the air that Naji told me was the residue from Mists magic. But not once did the island resort to a proper monster.

I stretched out on the nest of ferns I used for a bed and stared up at the ceiling. This was, I had discovered, the most entertaining way to pass my time. Trying to count the number of damn pine needles I’d used to thatch the roof. I got up to fifty-seven before I gave up.

The sky had turned darker since Naji left, and I could smell the rain on the air, waiting up in the clouds to fall. I sat up, mussing my pallet a little, and paced around the shack once or twice. Then I went to get a drink of water.

The bucket was empty.

“Damn him!” Naji always forgot to fill the bucket. Some Jadorr’a trick of never having to drink anything, apparently.

I scowled and kicked at the bucket. It clanged against the floor. I wondered how long till Naji returned. If he was just fishing, it probably wouldn’t be long, but if he was off monster hunting–

How dangerous could it be for me to walk down to the water spring?

I mean, before Eirnin dropped dead in his house I’d gone down to the spring a couple times a day. I’d never run into any trouble. The two biggest dangers had been the Mists and the island itself, and Naji’s magic kept us protected from both. Why wouldn’t it protect me from some island monster?

And I had my knife, which I could throw well enough if necessary.

And nobody ever died from a headache.

I picked up the bucket and slid it into the crook of my arm. Then I walked over to the door and peered out.

Thickening clouds, a deserted beach.

He probably wouldn’t even know I was gone.

I reached up and touched the charm for good luck, and then I stepped outside.

I made it to the spring without incident, which left me feeling more than a little smug. The woods were still and the sky thick with the threat of rain. Nothing moved but me: no shadows, no creeping curls of mist, no beasties watching me from the trees. Even the spring seemed calm, nearly stagnant – just a few faint gurgles let me know it was still running.

I dropped the bucket into the spring and took a long drink. It tasted steely and cold like always. Then I filled the bucket to the brim and stood to walk back to the shack.

Something small and sharp zipped past my head, so close I felt the swish of air from its movement, and impaled itself into a nearby tree. I dropped the bucket, water sloshing over my feet and legs, and slammed against the ground. I was tense and ready to defend myself, but at the same time I couldn’t help thinking: damn it, Naji was right.

I scanned the glimmering light-shadows of the chiming woods.

Nothing.

Real slow, I reached back for the knife. My fingers wrapped around the handle. Every muscle in my body was ready for a fight.

“Stop right there, human.”

I stopped. The voice wasn’t like any voice I’d heard, not even from the people of the Mists. It had a rhythm like bells, rippling and cascading, fabric fluttering in the wind, high and chiming. Oddly feminine.

“And kindly remove your hand from your weapon.”

I obliged, sticking my hand back under my chest. Everything was so damn still. My lungs didn’t want to work.

“Who are you?” I choked out. “You from the Mists?”

Laughter filled up the forest, a deep resonant clanging like the bells on the clock tower of the Empire Palace.

“I’m afraid not, girl-human. I am very much a part of your world.”

The monster.

I pushed myself up on my hands, moving as slow as possible, listening for the zip of another dart. I leaned back on my heels, keeping my eye on the woods.

“You gonna let me see you?”

“Perhaps. Are you a friend of the wizard-human?”

“The wizard-human? Uh, you mean Naji or Eirnin?” Sometimes playing dumb is the best course of action.

“Naji? I do not know that name. But Eirnin – aye, that’s the one I speak of.”

“I know him,” I said, not wanting to commit myself as his friend or foe. Who knew with monsters?

A branch broke off in the chiming woods, and I tensed up, ready to grab for my knife.

“That does not answer my question.”

“Well, I don’t know him well, not well enough to say–”

Another dart zoomed past my head. I ducked back down.

“I ain’t seen him but a couple times!” I shouted into the dirt. “He gave me some clothes and helped my friend out with his curse – well, not helped exactly, more told him what to do next – and other’n that he might as well not exist to me.”

The speaker didn’t give me an answer. I kept my head down and tried not to let on how scared I was.

For a second I wondered about Naji, if he was hurting real bad, if he was coming to save me.

I wondered how pissed he was gonna be.

“So you have no loyalties to the wizard-human?”

“Ain’t got no loyalties to anybody,” I said, even though I knew it to be a lie even as I spoke.