Beyond the Last Lantern

In Auberdine, even dry wood smells of the sea. I was sitting on the harbour wall, picking salt from my bowstring, when the arriving ship rang its bell. Beside me, my nightsaber raised his head. He was expecting fish. I was expecting a letter from Darnassus. We were both disappointed.

Instead of a letter, the dockworker brought me a girl. She clutched a guttering lantern to her chest, though daylight still lingered between the clouds. ‘You’re going north,’ she said. It wasn’t a question. Her brother had gone to collect driftwood that morning. No one had seen him since the tide came in.

I knew the beach. I also knew the warnings about walking among the wrecks alone. Still, I made no promises. My father had made those too readily; one evening, it was other people who brought his bow home. I checked the lantern’s oil, tied it to my belt and asked the boy’s name.

Beyond Auberdine’s last lantern, the sea grew louder. My companion stayed close to my knee. Shells lay among the roots, higher than an ordinary tide could have carried them. Then I spotted a small footprint. Barefoot. Beside it ran the broad furrow of a bundle dragged through the sand.

We found the wood beneath the splintered bow of a ship. From inside came a scratching sound, then a voice trying very bravely not to tremble. I laid my hand against the wet planks. ‘My name’s Elowen,’ I said. ‘Now tell me where your feet are.’