The sailboat had been underway for less than an hour when the Silence stirred.
Elias felt it in the pit of his stomach, a cold knot that pulsed with the rhythm of his own heartbeat. It wasn't the aggressive, devouring presence from the cavern—this was quieter, almost patient, as if it were settling into a new home. He gripped the tiller harder, his knuckles white. The children were huddled in the bow, wrapped in salvaged blankets, their faces pale but peaceful. They had survived the island's collapse, but the cost was etched into every line of their small bodies.
Lyra sat at the stern, her eyes half-closed, but she wasn't sleeping. She was watching him. "You're different," she said softly. "The cold... it's inside you now."
Elias didn't look at her. "It's under control."
"Is it?" She m
