Book 4: Through the Storm

Isla

I roll my lower lip between my teeth as Maddox paces the deck. Nothing about this situation is good. Nothing about this situation is clear, either, and none of us have been able to get a hold of anyone on Maatua in two full days.

Whispers of unrest on Maatua had been coming to us for months now. Maddox and I hadn’t known the unrest was a wizard, however, until four days ago when a frantic call from Antony had us hastily packing and out the door in less than an hour.

We’d just celebrated Isaac’s first birthday the day before.

I lean against the railing and bow my head, ignoring the salty spray of the violent ocean preventing us from moving in on the coast of Maatua. The kingdom is shrouded in black clouds, and the air is thrumming with electricity. I’ve never seen a storm like this before, especially one that is exclusive to the island itself. Where we sit in our boat, the sky is blue, and the water is relatively calm.

Two days ago