Lux [h.s]

forty-five

By the time the Scintilla reached the harbour of Enleen, Cora was certain she would never step foot on a ship willingly again.

A pale silver sun shone through the clouds as the anchor was dropped, and cold wind from the sea blew through Cora's hair, stiff with salt. The town of Enleen was small, but the port was crowded with fishermen and minor merchants at that time of day, so they lifted their hoods and moved their belongings quickly, avoiding the curious gazes that were sent their way at best. There was no time for extensive goodbyes; they were an odd group amongst the families on the streets. Harry paid a gentleman that lived near the docks to hide the Scintilla after their departure, and then they split into smaller groups.

Cora looked over her shoulder as Saiph trotted down the dirt road after Harry's horse, heart clenching when she caught a last sight of Iris's hair in the distance, shining like spun starlight. She'd known this moment would come for days, but it didn't ease the pain of parting in the slightest.

Harry's horse fell in step next to Saiph. "You'll see them again on solstice," he whispered. "Now look ahead, you're attracting attention."

Enleen was nothing more than fifty or so buildings scattered along the coast, a village more than a town, and it didn't take them long to leave it behind them. They rode along the woods at a sustained pace as the sun drew the final end of its arch in the sky, painting the sea red.

"We have a long ride ahead," Harry warned, lowering his hood. His blue coat was hidden in their bags, too recognisable to be used to make a quick escape. The wind blowing from the sea mussed his brunette hair, and it too looked reddish-golden in the sunset. The road they were on was tilted up, deserted and peaceful. Seagulls crossed the orange sky squeaking, waves rolled into the rocks below them.

They took a break to let the horses rest when they reached the top, and Cora sat on the edge of the cliff and glanced down at the shining water. It looked so calm, now, almost dreamy, but she still hadn't forgotten its thundering anger on the night of the thunderstorm. How could the same thing have two so different faces? Was it the essence of water to be so eclectic?

A slice of seed bread touched her face, and she took it with a smile. Harry sat next to her, holding a slice of his own, and lifted his knees to his chest. They ate quietly, watching the sun sink lower and lower, until it touched the sea. Only when it dipped beyond it and the trail of pink clouds was the only proof such thing as the sun had ever existed they stood again and resumed their trip.

The sky was that blue-Skat-grey shade it turns before sinking into black when they reached a fork in the road, half hidden by greenery. "This way," Harry instructed, turning into the woods. Saiph followed him, and Cora squinted as darkness fell around them. It was colder, there, and she pulled her cloak tighter around her frame with a hand. The horses moved slowly, the path unsure and half-hidden by sticks and fallen leaves that smelled of earth and humidity.

They strayed off the dirt road not long after, and proceeded in a line for a very long time. Birds of the night cried in the branches above their heads, bats fluttered in the shadows just beyond their gazes. Harry's fireflies shone around them, but they were too few to illuminate more than a few feet ahead. Distant creaks kept making Cora jump, but no big animals nor people crossed their path. The stiffness in her lower back told her they'd been riding for hours, but she didn't ask for a break. If she slid off Saiph now, she was so tired she'd never find a way back up.

The night was so dark she didn't notice the woods had opened until the horses picked up their pace. She looked up; they were in a large clearing swept by midnight wind. The black sky was a dome over their heads, and the air in her lungs was sharp cold, not so heavy anymore. They were riding towards a building, but it was too big and dark to make sense of it. No light came from the windows, and the white particles in the air made it look as if it'd been abandoned.