Into the Wind by Shira Anthony

other Gateway Islands, this particular island had little flat land or beach. Jagged cliffs seemed to rise directly from the water, and the vegetation was thick and green. There was no sign of any habitation. No boats, no trails visible from the water.
    “Hundreds of years ago, they say the island was a volcano,” Brynn said as if reading Taren’s thoughts. “Those who weren’t killed when the mountain came to life fled to other islands.”
    “They never moved back?” Ea’nu had a similar history, and yet the islanders made their home there. Taren had heard the soil on these volcanic islands was rich and easy to farm, so he found it surprising no one lived on the island.
    “The island is inhabited with spirits,” Brynn said in a voice that made it clear that he believed this as well. “The islanders don’t venture near.”
    “A perfect place for a pirate to hide.”
    “Many folk believe Odhrán himself commands the spirits.”
    “Do you?” Taren asked.
    “Don’t know. He doesn’t fear them. Maybe it’s true.” Brynn hopped out of the boat and grabbed the rope at its bow to drag it ashore.
    Taren jumped into the water after Brynn and immediately felt the strong urge to transform. His need had grown less demanding during the months he’d spent at Callaecia with Ian, but he’d rarely gone more than a few days without giving in to the call. He would transform tonight, after Brynn had fallen asleep. In the meantime, the water felt good against his skin, cooling the burn he’d received from the hours spent on the water.
    He was just about to take the rope from Brynn when he felt a strange sensation against his skin. Like the gossamer touch of thousands of tiny insects’ wings, it reminded Taren of the feel of passing through the enchantments that hid Callaecia from its human neighbors. Unlike those enchantments, however, this sensation was far more pleasant—a lover’s tender touch or the feel of silk gliding over his skin. Sensual and inviting. The feeling ended as quickly as it had begun, although his skin still vibrated after.
    Goddess. What was that? Had the touch—whatever it was—aroused him?
    “Taren?” Brynn frowned at him, causing Taren to wonder what sort of expression his face held. “Are you all right?”
    “Fine,” he replied quickly, hoping to hide his discomfort at his body’s response.
    “You looked strange.”
    “We should get the boat ashore. It’ll be dark soon and we should fish.” He pretended to ignore Brynn’s probing gaze. Clearly the boy hadn’t felt what he had. Was it possible the stories of Odhrán’s merfolk were true, after all? If the strange feeling had been an enchantment, had Odhrán given Brynn the ability to pass through it and bring others with him?
    Or maybe you’re so enamored with the idea that there might be others of your kind here that you’re dreaming things up. Better not to worry about things he knew nothing about. He needed to find Odhrán and ask him about the stone.

Nine

     
    T HEYCARRIEDthe boat over the rocky shore, and for once Taren wished he had shoes. Brynn appeared entirely oblivious to the sharp stones.
    The beach was shallow, ending at a sheer cliff face that rose at least a hundred feet. Here and there, trees grew from cracks and holes in the volcanic stone, jutting outward, then reaching up for the sun so that their trunks were bent. Other than the sound of the water and of the birds overhead, it was eerily quiet, with no sign of Odhrán or his men.
    “Where to from here?” Taren asked after they’d secured the boat to a tree.
    “We climb.”
    “We have no ropes,” Taren pointed out as he gathered their meager provisions into the small net they’d found on the boat.
    “There’s a trail. It’s narrow but passable.” Brynn started down the beach without waiting for Taren to finish, forcing Taren to speed up. By the time he’d caught Brynn, the soles of his feet were battered and bruised from the rocks, as were his