Forty Nine
Zaria’s return to the Isles lasted only a handful of hours on the calendar, but by the time the boat finally cut through the last stretch of angry water and slammed up against the dock, it felt as though she had lived an entire season inside those two days. The sea had been rough from the moment they’d departed the mainland. Not the rolling, rhythmic swell she’d grown accustomed to this had been violent. Unpredictable. Waves that rose like dark walls and crashed down with enough force to rattle teeth. Zaria spent most of the journey below deck, not because she feared the water; she’d always found something soothing in the endless horizon, but because she feared losing her strength. Cillian ate like a starving creature lately. A hungry little ember, Mercy had once joked. But lately i
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