ARC: The Wizard's Promise by Cassandra Rose Clarke Page B

“It’s Lord Foxfollow. He has horrors.”
    I could tell they didn’t remember anything about Isolfr. And why would they? They were enchanted.
    I tore away from them, my tears hot and frustrated, and ran to the railing. The water was dark and still. No Isolfr.
    “Where are you?” I whispered. I could feel Kolur and Frida staring at me. The horrors traveled on veins of magic, that was what Isolfr had said, and I had felt it earlier, the magic harnessed by my cheap protection charm from Beshel-by-the-Sea.
    I grabbed the railing tight and closed my eyes and tried to feel the magic on the air. It hummed around me. Normal.
    “What are you doing?” Frida’s voice was too close. My eyes flew open. She stood beside me, the wind tossing her braid out over the water.
    “I’m feeling for disruptions in the magic.” I managed to keep my voice calm. “Lord Foxfollow killed Gillean – that man – and brought him here. Because he was–” I couldn’t keep my voice calm for long. “Because he was trying to help me.” The tears came again, this time so many that I could no longer see anything but smears of light. Frida drew me in close to her, and I buried my face in her shoulder. She smelled of life on the sea.
    That kindness surprised me.
    “The magic’s fine,” she said. “I felt the disruptions, too. That’s why I ran on deck. But I assure you that whoever was here is gone now.”
    I pulled away from her and wiped my eyes.
    “I didn’t see anything,” Kolur said. “Didn’t hear anything, either.” We all looked at each other. Not at Gillean. “I woke up when Frida came on deck.” Kolur was pale in the moonlight. “Whoever it was didn’t seem interested in hurting me, at least.”
    “We’re under a spell,” Frida said. “That’s the only explanation. But I can’t feel it.”
    “It’s Isolfr!” I said. “Kolur never wakes up when I talk to him.”
    But they both ignored me. I couldn’t feel Isolfr’s magic either, only the wind, cold and sharp and steady. I looked out at the water. There was still a chance that Isolfr was responsible for all of this, that Lord Foxfollow was a fiction he’d created. He’d put Kolur and Frida under a spell, after all. Maybe I only trusted him because he was so disarming, so shy, so beautiful.
    And yet my bracelet never burned when he was near.
    “We ought to give him a funeral,” Kolur said, interrupting my worry. “Some kind of ritual. Get him off the boat, at least.”
    Frida didn’t say anything.
    “Bad luck to toss a man unceremoniously into the ocean,” Kolur said. “Creates ghosts, and you don’t want them hanging around a boat.”
    “He’s from the Mists.” Frida’s voice rang out. “Even you aren’t that softhearted, Kolur.”
    Kolur frowned at her. “Ain’t about being softhearted. You know that. You’ve seen it.”
    There it was, some hint at their history. But I wanted a funeral for Gillean, too, and it wasn’t because of ghosts. “No,” I said, and sniffled. “No, he needs a funeral. He wasn’t a bad person. He tried to help us.”
    “What are you talking about? You’ve never seen him before.”
    I sighed with frustration. Isolfr claimed he wanted me to trust him, but he also made me keep his warnings from Kolur. His logic was incomprehensible.
    Frida smoothed down her shirt with her hands, a nervous gesture. “In all likelihood, this is a Mists trap.”
    “It’s not.” Kolur turned away from her. “If it was a Mists trap, we’d be trapped.”
    I shivered.
    “Hanna, come help me.” Kolur dragged the chest containing our spare sails out from its place beside the masts. I glanced at Frida one last time, but she was gazing out at the ocean. She didn’t look happy. I left her there and went over next to Kolur. He pulled out a stretch of fabric.
    “Oh, drop the damn knife, girl. Frida’ll watch out for us.”
    “She doesn’t seem happy about us doing this.”
    “She hasn’t had the run-in with ghosts that I have. I