Page 30 of Song of the Dawn
Mila
The lake was glistening, and my stomach flip-flopped as I stood on the dock. The idea of sitting on a carved piece of wood in the middle of water was somehow both disconcerting and exciting.
Ezra hefted the picnic basket inside and held out his hand to me, one foot on the dock, the other balancing on the boat. “Have you ever been on a boat before?”
I laughed nervously. “No, why do you ask?”
“The way you’re eyeing it. I promise it won’t bite.”
“It’s not the boat I worry about.” My gaze went to the waters.
“In that case, I promise I don’t bite either, at least not too hard.”
My eyes snapped to his, and I could think of no incident where he would bite me. It struck me as so ridiculous a laugh burst out of my throat.
Taking my hand, he guided me into the boat. It rocked back and forth under my weight, and for a moment, I clung to him as he guided me down. When the rocking stopped, I took a deep breath, calm again.
Ezra untied the boat and picked up the oars, pushing away from the shore.
“I’ll take one,” I told him, holding out my hands. He shook his head, but I pressed on. “I like to keep my hands busy.”
Begrudgingly, he passed over the oar. It was warm from his grip, but the wood was smooth. When I dipped it into the water, it flowed around the oar gently, and we moved. Grinning, I glanced up at Ezra as we rowed in sync, but quickly my eyes were drawn back to the water. It was translucent near the top, and fat fish with black scales wiggled below the surface. We passed a school of tiny silver fish, and I laughed when one leaped out of the water.
The air on the lake was cooler, and although the sun beat down, it wasn’t too warm, but I imagined as summer wore on, the heat could be quite oppressive. Once we were out a bit, I could see the island and on it a tangle of bramble, heather bushes with a slight opening, a path leading further in. I stared at it, wondering. From my purview on the lake, it looked like a bay instead, the dense foliage backing up to the blue mountains in the distance.
“That’s the island, isn’t it?” I asked. “Can we go there?”
“There? Now?” Ezra raised an eyebrow.
Tucking a loose strand of purple hair behind my ear, I grinned at him. “Unless you have some other destination in mind.”
“No, my only thought was to enjoy your company, and that can be accomplished in the boat or on the island. You’ll have to follow my lead with rowing though.”
“Following,” I agreed, holding up my oar.
“It’s not an island, not really. The fastest way to reach it is by boat, but one can access it from the mainland.”
I scanned the rise of the land, the way the tower loomed above the lake, giving Ezra a lovely view from his workshop. Behind the dock a set of stairs were carved into the green hillside, leading right up to the tower. Beyond the bulk of the tower, I couldn’t see, for although the path rolled downhill again, old trees blocked the way and most likely the path to the bay. My heart skipped a beat. What if the individual who played the violin was on the island? I could reach it on my own without taking out the boat. Next time I heard the sound, I’d seek answers.
“Mila, your oar!” Ezra’s voice jolted me out of my thoughts just as the boat tipped dangerously. With a yelp, I yanked at the oar, dragging it back in as I righted myself, grabbing onto the edge.
Water splashed over the side, soaking the hem of my dress and my shoes.
Ezra pulled in his oar, laughing. “What did you see out there? You looked so serious.”
“Nothing,” I said, flustered. “I just…I’ve never been on a boat, and the landscape is so curious here. It’s quite a shock from the city.”
“Is it?” he said, reaching for the oar.
I let him, although his gaze seemed to penetrate me, finding the untruths and unfurling them.
“No,” I admitted. “That’s not what’s bothering me. I’ve been listening to Giselle’s stories about this place, the old legends and superstitions that surround it. I admit, I am curious. Which is why I want to go to the island, to see what it’s like to step on sacred ground.”
“I’ll take you, but know that it’s just land, quieter than the farmland though. I believe it’s the silence that gives it the sacred aura.”
His voice had gone soft, and for a few moments, the waves gently lapping against the hull of the boat were the only sound. Was he trying to tell me something? Or was I reading more into the situations than I should? If I had to guess, I’d assume something about the island bothered Ezra, but his expression was closed. Difficult to read. Had I spoiled something?
“We don’t have to go. I’m just curious.”
