“Do you truly believe we will ever leave this place?” she asked.
“Do you?” James replied.
Tears began streaming down Kilani’s cheeks. It was the first time James had ever seen her show any emotion other than excitement. She looked out over the water and let the tears come. James looked at her. Her blue-green eyes, glassy with tears, appeared to have left this world. Minutes passed. Kilani continued to stare out to sea. Finally she spoke.
“When you first arrived and Luno believed that you were the one who would get us off this island, I was excited. We all were. But a year has passed and we are no closer to finding a way out. I want to believe in you, James. But here,” she placed her hand over her heart, “deep inside lies doubt. Luno inspires hope, that’s what he does. I think he truly believes you will do what he thinks you’ve been brought here to do. That gives me hope. I suppose I’ve always had trouble blindly following. Blindly believing.”
“My entire life has been filled with the expectations of others. And all my life, I have held onto doubt. Perhaps I am not the person Luno believes me to be. But I will promise you this, Kilani,” James took her hand from her heart and placed it over his. “I will try with every ounce of blood that pumps through my heart to live up to those expectations.”
“Why burden yourself with that?”
“Because without hope, there is nothing. And I will not live in a world where there is no hope.”
Kilani broke her gaze for the first time and looked where James had placed her hand. It still rested on his chest with both his hands covering it. Their eyes met and locked, tears still streamed down her cheeks. Kilani reached her other hand and cupped the back of James’s neck. He felt a flash of heat rush down his spine. It surged back up and spread across his shoulders and down to his fingers. The tension that strung across his shoulder blades like piano wire melted away.
“I want to believe. Make me believe. Tell me you’ll take me away from this place. Be who you are supposed to be.” Kilani said these things not because she wanted a response from him but because she wanted to motivate him to press on, to keep trying.
As the heat dissipated, it was replaced. It wasn’t the emptiness or pressure James had come to expect but desire. Desire to fulfill the destiny Luno had laid out for him. Not for Luno or the others trapped on The Never but for her. Just her. Her approval, her acceptance, her love. Kilani released her grip on his neck and let her hand fall from his chest. Despite his immediate longing for her touch, he felt invigorated. James wondered what she so longed for but knew she would tell him only when she was ready, if at all. On that day for the first time, James felt as if Kilani saw him as a man rather than just a boy.
A cry of “Land ho,” returned James to the present. In that simple phrase James realized there were only two true mariners aboard the ship. He was grateful to have William and Roger and understood why Luno kept them close in his council during the planning phase of the expedition. He had even allowed them to name the ship, which they called The Queen Mary, after their wives, both named Mary.
“Bring her about the western point and look for a suitable place to anchor,” Luno shouted from the bow. “Aye, aye, Capin’,” Roger shouted from behind the wheel.
Luno slowed the ship as it rounded the point. For the first time, James saw the second widow, which was tucked in just behind the first. The islands were close, easily within rowing distance, especially considering his newfound strength.
The water along the coasts of both widows was brilliant green. It gave way to a deep blue several hundred feet from shore. The sails slackened and the ship coasted toward where the blue and green waters met. The sail was quickly lowered and stowed while William positioned the boat for anchoring. James, Kilani, and Roger lowered the stone anchor. The line, made of woven iron-tree vines, went slack shortly after breaking the surface of the water.
“She’s not much deeper ’n the keel Capin’. Touch and go by the looks of it. Good thing we anchored here or she’d run aground for sure,” Roger shouted to Luno, who was gathering supplies from the hold.
They dropped the bow anchor for stability despite the lakestill waters. Once the dinghy was loaded with the necessary supplies, the crew made their way aboard and began to row to shore. Luno wasn’t entirely sure if leaving the ship unoccupied would be a wise idea because of the unpredictable weather, but it had calmed significantly. As the anchors had gained easy purchase on the sea floor, he decided having everyone search for running water would be the best use of manpower.
The small boat made landfall without incident. They pulled the boat ashore and lashed it to a tree. Luno quickly unrolled a map he’d drawn based on his observations from the mainland. The strange mist still hung over the island, making visibility inland poor at best.
“I had hoped we’d be able to see better once we’d made landfall,” Luno said, looking up from his map into the jungle in front of him. “Our only choice is to head inland. We shall cross north to south, coast to coast in an easterly direction. Kilani, I want you to lead. James, take the rear. Be on your guard, there’s no telling what may dwell inland. Let us make haste; midday approaches rapidly.”
The group moved quickly into the jungle. They were immediately enveloped in the mist, which reminded James of the London fogs at their worst. Though William was no more than ten paces in front of him, James could barely make out his back, and he couldn’t make out anyone else in the group at all.
The interior of the island was eerily silent. Even the footfalls of the group fell noiselessly. James could detect no elevation change as they carried on. It wasn’t long before they had crossed the small island and were on the southern shore. Other than the giant trees, which disappeared in the mist not far above their heads, they hadn’t seen much of anything. They quickly turned and made their way back into the jungle, this time on a northeasterly heading.
Not long after they plunged into the mist the group stopped. An earsplitting shriek broke the silence. James could hear the leaves in the trees above fluttering under the weight of something moving from branch to branch. The group formed a tight circle, each facing out and looking up into the mist in hopes of spotting whatever was moving. The sound above stopped as quickly as it started. Several leaves glided through the mist and fell to the ground around the group. After another moment of silence, Luno ordered them to press on. After a longer spell of walking, the group again stepped through the jungle onto the beach, this time northeast of their original position. The Queen Mary was still visible, anchored just offshore.
“We will make one more pass to the southern shore and one pass back to the north. If we don’t find anything, we will implement our contingency plan,” Luno said.
Each time the group stepped into the jungle, James felt increasingly uneasy. His senses were on high alert as, yet again, he stepped into the mist-shrouded forest. For the first time since their arrival on the first widow, James thought he could detect a slight rise in the elevation as they moved rapidly toward the center of the island. The rest of the group’s unease had heightened as well. So much so that when Kilani came to a stop, every member, save Luno, ran into the back of the person in front of them. James, who had been looking up into the canopy, walked into Roger and knocked him to the ground.
As he helped Roger to his feet, James realized the heavy mist had dissipated slightly. In front of him, Kilani, Luno, and William were staring at a tall stone structure blocking their path. It stretched high into the air. The top was wreathed by the dense canopy. The base was as wide as three horse-lengths. Its circular shape revealed no seams.
“Vat the ’ell es it, Capitan?” William asked.
“I don’t know,” Luno replied, slowly circumnavigating the base while carefully inspecting it. He stopped on the far side. Glyphs carved into the stone stretched in a straight line from the ground into the canopy.