The first whisper came with the tide.
Elias sat at the tiller, the sea black and glassy under a moonless sky. The children were asleep below, their breathing a soft counterpoint to the creak of the mast. He was alone with his thoughts and the cold knot in his chest—the Silence, coiled and waiting. It had been quiet since the speedboat attack, but now it stirred, a slow, serpentine shift that made his skin prickle.
They are calling, the Silence whispered. Not in words, but in a pressure against his mind, a pull toward the south. The Atoll of Whispers was close. And it was alive with the First Mind's presence.
Lyra appeared at his side, her bare feet silent on the deck. "You feel it too," she said. It wasn't a question.
Elias nodded, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "It's like a song. Low
