Keegan turned, puzzled. “What’s so funny?”
Then Katie lost it too.
At least Orin and Keegan had rented us a decent sized boat. It wasn’t new, but Keegan said it would do the trick. Then again, for Orin, all any boat had to do was keep him out of the water. It was a part-fishing boat, part-tour boat, with a steady but noisy diesel engine, and certainly a veteran of the sea. “First Mate Brann?” Keegan asked a bit too excitedly. “It’s almost time. Shall I drop the anchor?”
“No Keegan. Just turn the engine off for now.”
“Aye Aye!” Keegan snapped with a salute. He shut the boat off, then turned his impish eyes toward Orin. “Got your sea legs yet, big guy?”
Orin gripped the side of the rails and vomited. Again.
“Got yourself a bad dose there, eh?” his brother remarked.
Orin ran his sleeve across his mouth. “One more word from you, or Keegan, and I’ll throw you both to the fucking sharks.”
“You look like a newborn deer trying to walk,” Keegan laughed.
Orin stumbled over to one of the wooden benches and sat down. “The boat stinks of fish and sour diesel. My senses are flipping out over every stink.” He cracked a water bottle, and tried to hydrate. “I may never eat seafood again.”
I walked over to Orin and started to rub his back. “You’ll be fine.” I hope. “We won’t have to be on this thing much longer.”
Orin buried his head into my chest and mumbled a barely inaudible, “Thank you.”
“Right. So let’s go over the plan,” Brann said to the rest of us.
“Aye-aye, sir,” Keegan barked. “Brann’s the man with the plan.”
“Somebody shove a sock in his cakehole,” suggested Katie.
Brann ignored them. “We need to make our way inland to find the Spirit Temple. That’s my best guess where to look for some clues about the Bone Knife.”
“I hope you’re right. We’re short on time,” I said.
Brann nodded. “I for one think it will be there, at the temple.”
“What makes you think so?” Weylyn asked.
“The Tuatha were given five treasures, but when they sailed for Ireland, they only took four with them. Each treasure was made in a certain city. The Stone of Fal came from Falias, Lugh’s spear was made in Goirias, Nuada’s sword was forged in Findias, and Dagda’s cauldron was cast in Muirias. These gifts represent the four ancient elements of nature; Earth, Air, Fire, and Water...”
“Which leaves us with the fifth element – Spirit,” I put in. “Hence the Spirit temple.”
“Exactly. The Temple represents transcendence, transformation,” Brann picked up. “Spirit is always with us, while we are living, and when we are not. Spirit Energy is the fundamental energy that we use in magic.”
Katie was nodding. “No wonder the Temple of Spirit would be the center of all the other cities.”
“And the most sacred place on the island, but I’ve found exactly zero physical evidence of a fifth city. So, the Temple must be hidden.”
I got it. “Then, if Fionn was being truthful, it makes sense to start there.”
“Now we just have to wait for sunrise,” Katie said.
And lo, as if by divine command, the sun began to rise on the horizon. We all turned our attention east. As the sun came up, we expected it to grow warmer. Instead, a bone-chilling mist began to creep across waves, and promptly enveloped our boat.
Soon the mist thickened into a dense fog. We could barely see in front of us. The wind picked up, as the salty air stung us with its chill. With the wind, the chop began to swell quickly. I gripped the railing, as ever larger waves started crashing into us. The whitecaps pushed our boat along the water, as frigid spray swept over the deck.
“Keegan, start the boat!” Weylyn yelled. “We need to get under our own power, or we’ll be swamped!”
“Ugh, I’m trying, but it’s not turning over.” Keegan sounded panicky.
“What?” Orin said.
“IT’S NOT STARTING CAPTAIN!” Keegan shouted.
“It’s the fog!” Katie said, and whipped out her phone. “Shit! No service.”
“My compass is going crazy,” Brann added.
“What do we do?” I asked, but I knew it was out of our hands now. I glanced over at Katie. She was on her knees, muttering a prayer to Fand, the sea goddess.
“Hold on,” Orin yelled, as another wave crashed violently over the stern, spraying salt water all over. Waves pounded the boat and the deck was sloshing with frigid sea water. It was coming over the sides faster than it could drain back out the scuppers. We were foundering. It wouldn’t be long before the boat either capsized, or sank.
As quickly as it arrived, the wind began to diminish, the gale abated, and the waves lost their power. My hair was tousled from the wind, and I felt queasy from the rocking boat. Katie shivered from the drenching cold. But the sun came out, shining hot and brilliant, eating away the mist and fog. Soon the air was warm, and crystal clear.
“Holy shit.” Katie said as she pushed up off her knees and joined me at the railing.
“You can say that again.” I replied, staring in astonishment.
“Holy shit!” Keegan said, walking up on my other side.
We were awestruck. The island was emerging from the mists, or rather, it was materializing, to replace the fog with solid dry land. It was forming right in front of us, jagged, rocky peaks, verdant forests, and stretches of rocky beach.
It was real.
The Phantom Island of Hy-Brasil, in all its glory. The beach sparkled with grains of sand the color of gold, blue water shimmered in the sunlight. Beyond the golden sands, the colors of the rich tropical vegetation island were unlike anything I had ever seen. The greens were greener, the pinks were pinker, the blues blew me away. I could only think the gods had polished the world anew. Suddenly our drifting boat slammed to an abrupt stop, twenty feet short of the beach, and we all
