They sailed for two days, even during the night. And while Inaan might not really have been the greatest sea captain ever, he certainly was a master of his trade, since at times the waters were so shallow that the ground became visible beneath them. It was no wonder that there were only a few who could command the depths and shallows of the sea surrounding Illyah.
There were many invisible islands, Inaan explained to them. He knew of some, had even visited a few of them, but for the most part, their inhabitants preferred to keep themselves hidden no matter what.
"Nobody knows how many there are," he said. "Or how many people have found shelter on them or since when. It is said that those who fled during the Great Wars first created them, but there have been a few already before that. After all, even happy and peaceful societies have dissidents, or people who just want to live apart."
"Were there ever happy and peaceful times?" Sofia asked.
Inaan only smiled.
"Probably not."
The invisible islands, he told them, were created in a joint effort by their first settlers. That was how they came to be, and also how they remained in existence. For every newly arrived, the island was a reality that was not or barely questioned. Through their belief it became and stayed real. Yet, when an island was abandoned, it vanished after a while, dissolving into thin air as if it had never been. And since it had been invisible, its absence wasn't noticed.
"How do you know that?" Ami asked, troubled. He had a secret passion for maps, and after his sense of panic had subsided when they had flown on the Bayla's back, he had happily observed the landscape beneath them, and longed to do it again. The pattern of the surfaces beneath him had been like faces, their depictions in maps like masks. A disharmonious, asymmetrical mess, yet making perfect sense because of the way each part reacted to the others, because none would be the same without the others.
"The islands are invisible only to the eye," Inaan said. "But their absence itself is conspicuous, because you can feel them in the waters that surround them, and in the winds that are redirected because of them."
"How come you have visited some?"
"I asked for permission. I dropped anchor in their proximity. I waited and I talked to them, even though they didn't respond. A few times, after a while, they lifted the fog and let me see them, so that I could come ashore."
"And if they didn't?"
Inaan shrugged.
"Then I lost patience and sailed away."
Ami squinted over the waters, somehow disappointed that he couldn't see them. He wished he could fly on the Bayla. There must be something visible from the air. Or maybe there wasn't?
"Are they in danger?" he asked. "Or dangerous?"
"I doubt they are dangerous," Inaan said. "Though maybe some of them are, who knows. As to being in danger, I dare say many are. There is no place in Nihon that is so full of spies than the port of Illyah. It must be because of the islands, surely."
"So, someone was bound to pick us up there," Sofia said, suspiciously eying Inaan.
"And I was the one who did," he said, grinning as if he could read her thoughts.
"What happens when we reach the island?"
Inaan lifted his eyebrows in mock anticipation.
"You'll see that soon enough. Patience -"
"- is not my strength," Sofia finished for him.
He laughed.
"Yes, that much I have gathered." He turned to Ami. "Where has that beautiful bird of yours gone?"
Instinctively, Ami put his arm over his pocket, feeling the Bayla quivering and rolling up into a tight ball.
"It flew away," he said, not missing a beat.
"That's too bad." And with that, Inaan winked at them and returned to his post at the helm.
When he was out of earshot, Ami whispered,
"That was the best lie I ever told."
His eyes were wide with surprise at his own action.
Sofia made an earnest face.
"It was impressive."
"Very impressive," Orì agreed.
"Are you making fun of me?"
"Nooo," the girls assured him.
"It might be best not to tell them about the Bayla," Ami said. "What if they - I don't know, take it from us?"
"You're right. We might need it. In case we have to escape," Orì said. "These islands sound interesting. Maybe they are the right place for us now. But can't be sure."
They settled back in with the rhythm of the waves, observing Inaan and his crew as they expertly navigated through waters that seemed to be the same all around, though they weren't, of course.
Sofia closed her eyes and listened to the wind. It howled and whistled like a melody by a chorus that was slightly out of sync, yet always found its way back to its center. The waves lapped against the hull of the ship, and from time to time the sails shuddered and groaned as they were adjusted either with the wind or against it, depending on Inaan's instructions. The continuity of the sounds lulled her in, but just as she felt herself dozing off, there was suddenly a choppy quality to the wind, as if it was being hacked into pieces. As if on cue, the ship tilted to one side, laying itself diagonally into the wind instead of following its course.
Sofia opened her eyes.
"Did you feel that?" she asked Orì and Ami.
"Feel what?" Orì asked.
"That movement. The change in the wind."
"It changes all the time, doesn't it?"
"Actually, no."
"Hm." Orì shrugged. "Maybe it's an island."
Ami looked into the distance.
"I can't see anything."
"That's what the word invisible means." Somehow, Piri had managed to sneak up on them. He nodded at Sofia. "You could be a sailor, if you're able to feel this."
Sofia smiled at him, uncertainly. During their journey, the crew, even though they had introduced themselves, had kept their distance. They did so under the disguise of busyness, but it was clear from the way they kept looking at them that they didn't trust them.
"Where are you from, anyway?" Piri now asked, not attempting to hide the aggressive note in his tone.
"Inaan said we don't need to tell you," Sofia replied.
Piri scowled.
"Yet," he said, turning to walk away from them. "You don't need to tell us, yet."
When he was gone, Orì said.
"Neila keeps looking at you."
"Does she? I hadn't noticed."
It was a lie, and Sofia knew that Orì probably saw right through it. Still, she didn't take it back, even when Orì's expression told her that her suspicion had been accurate.
"I'm sleepy," Sofia added, and closed her eyes again.
In fact, she had noticed Neila stares. At first, she had thought that she was merely returning her own looks, as she hadn't been able to keep herself from looking her way too. She was from her own side. She was like her. Whatever that might mean. Maybe it didn't mean anything at all. And yet she kept examining her as if by finding out more about Neila, she might find out more about herself.
Was there something, for example, that gave both Neila and herself away? Some obvious trait that revealed that they were not from Nihon, that they had spent their first years without a hint of magic, without the knowledge that reality was something that could be made, instead of something that was?
Or was there something that spoke of foreignness, of not fitting in? Was Neila uncomfortable with magic as well? Was she at the same time drawn to it, just like Sofia was?
But why, Sofia thought, should they have more in common than two other random people whose paths happened to cross?
And still, their eyes kept meeting, then hiding from the other, as if they had been caught at something undue.
With all these questions circling unanswered through her mind, Sofia really did fall asleep. She woke just a moment before Inaan called out to the crew to ready themselves for land in sight. Or maybe she had woken up because of his calls.
"We were just discussing if we should wake you," Ami said when she opened her eyes. "We thought you wouldn't want to miss this moment."
He himself looked excited beyond measure, his eyes gleaming like two stars.
There was nothing but the endless curve of the horizon, filled with water until it met the line of the sky. Even beneath the waves, and despite the better knowledge of the onlooker, it seemed unending.
How could this be untrue?
But then, like an eraser, slowly rubbing over a painting that had been solid and unalterable just a moment before, the view changed. The blue of the sky and the reflected blue of the ocean melted away, and into view came a spot of land. Unformed like a lump of dow at first, then taking shape as if from within, building itself into something real and unsinkable.
Inaan urged his crew to be careful. The ship rocked as if it had been frightened by the sudden change in scenery. Sofia's heart lurched as well with every piece of the view that was filled in, its outlines sharpening.
Orì had turned pale beneath her glinting blue skin.
"Do you see all these people?" she said, and just as she said it, Sofia beheld them too.
A group of at least two dozen were waiting for the ship to dock. A long wooden plank had been built, reaching out into the water like an invitation. Heavy ropes were tied to iron pillars to hold the ship in place once it had reached its resting place. There was anticipation in the faces of those who were waiting, but also tension, as if they could never be sure who exactly was coming for them.
They called out to Inaan when they were close enough for him to hear, and he shouted a greeting back to them.
"Who is there with you?" One voice, louder than the others, sounded out.
"New friends!" Inaan called.
"Friends? Are you sure?"
Inaan turned to them.
"Don't worry, they will welcome you with open arms." Then he muttered to himself. "After a while."
Sofia and Orì had been so shocked by the sudden apparition of the island and its inhabitants, that they had almost forgotten about Ami.
He had turned completely silent. When Sofia finally looked at him, she saw that he was almost in a trance. His eyes were glazed over, yet intensely focused on what he was seeing. His hands were moving in front of him, as if he was weaving a mental image, a memory of what he was beholding.
"Is something wrong?" Sofia whispered to him.
After a short time lag, he shook his head.
"This is - amazing," he said. "I had no idea. I thought -"
He didn't finish the sentence. Sofia wanted to enquire further, but Orì put a hand on her arm.
"Let him be," she said. "Just as he will never really understand us, we won't ever really understand him."
Sofia wanted to contradict her, especially her use of the word "we", as if they were so similar. Sofia refused to agree with that notion, not even in the slightest. But it was true that the way that Ami's hands were connected to his mind was something that she couldn't completely relate to. And clearly, some things that came easy to herself and to Orì were almost impossible for him to do.
And what was more, she had more pressing issues to deal with at the moment than the differences between her talents, and Ami's, and Orì's.
The ship had docked. A few of the people, mostly children, who had been waiting were busying themselves with fastening it, and Piri, Strout, Graz and Neila had quickly gone on land, greeting them with hugs and excited stories from their time in the port town.
But while they all seemed happy to see their friends again, they kept looking in their direction, and Inaan was obviously stealthing himself to introduce them
"Come," he said, smiling, but only with his face.
Gingerly, Ami, Orì and Sofia followed him, not knowing what they should expect. Ami kept nervously stroking the Bayla's head, as if in an attempt to convey to it that it might ready itself. Readying itself for what, he had no idea.
The land under their feet felt more shaky than the ship had, and at first they stumbled. It took a moment to steady themselves.
"You'll get used to it," Inaan said, allowing a teasing smirk into his now serious face.
He stopped as he had reached the crowd, and the three of them did the same, keeping themselves slightly behind him, as if they were expecting him to protect them, if need be.
The crowd parted slightly, just enough for a woman to walk towards them.
She was older than anybody Sofia had ever seen. Her hair was grey and smooth and almost touched the ground. She stood straight, but in a manner as if she was being held upright by the power of her will and not the power of her body, which seemed almost gone. Yet her eyes told of a long life lived and a long life still ahead of her. There was something eternal in them, like an abyss with no bottom, as if she had been reborn every time she had died.
She fixed her silver stare onto Orì as if Sofia and Ami didn't even exist.
Something like a smile formed on her papery lips. It looked neither happy, nor cruel, nor relieved. It was something in between, or maybe everything at once.
"Orì, the daughter of Mother," she said. "I know of you. And you may know of me. I am Antibe. Welcome to my island."