5
As we sailed across the Sea of Colisle, it felt more like we were gliding among the clouds than over water. The thick fog obscured everything beyond a few feet, yet the ferryman guided the boat with a practiced ease. A small lantern hung from a pole at the front of the vessel. It created an interesting orange glow but it did little to pierce the haze.
It was hard to discern the passage of time. When I assumed we were halfway across, I heard the mournful song again. The volume was louder and filled the air all around us. I peered over the side of the boat, thinking that whoever was singing had to be nearby. The ferryman gave me a hard look and I backed away.
“Where is that song coming from?” I asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” the ferryman answered. “Sirens are tricky creatures. It sounds l
