## Chapter 487 — Before We Knock

Morning put the island back on the table without anyone physically bringing out the map.

Breakfast was still warm. The lesson sheet from yesterday had been moved safely away from crumbs and spills, and the two machine-made images rested on top of it. Outside, the stream carried on with the same quiet persistence as ever. Sometime that morning the builder was due to arrive and open the old bathhouse drain.

Lethira had clearly been thinking about something else.

“There is a part of the island discussion I want to correct before we decide anything new.”

She rested one forearm on the table. “Mirelen and I decided to stop at the inlet. You heard us. You knew why. But we did not actually ask you to agree to that boundary. That does not make me happy that you went down after we left. I still think looking invisibly at people who do not know they are being observed is different from exploring an empty coast. But I told you afterwards that we had made the decision together, and that was not quite true.”

She took a drink, then set the cup down.

“So next time I would rather we decide the boundaries for all of us before anyone goes. Surveying geography from a distance, deliberately observing people without their knowledge, and actually approaching them are different decisions. I do not think curiosity alone is enough reason for the second or third.”

She looked directly at Ian.

“What boundary would you want before we go back?”

“I will follow whatever you and Mirelen agree, if I don't I'll say beforehand but ultimately I want to support your exploration so I won't argue or refuse your preferences.”

Ian paused.

“Is that ok?”

Lethira considered him, folding her hands around her cup. “Mostly. But I want your opinion before we are standing on the island, not a promise of obedience. You can reach places we cannot, leave when we cannot, and observe without being seen. Supporting us does not make your part irrelevant.”

She kept her eyes on him. “I would rather we agree first, and nobody quietly changes the agreement afterwards.”

“That wasn't meant to sound quite so submissive. It would be wrong for me to offer this, then argue about me being special and doing the opposite of what you want, so I'll go with the majority and if I disagree I'll mention it of course.”

“That is closer.” Lethira tore off a piece of bread, thinking as she ate it.

“I still do not particularly like *majority* for this. If two of us want to walk into somebody else’s village and the third thinks we have missed something dangerous or cruel, I do not want us counting hands.”

Her gaze shifted briefly towards the folded island map at the far end of the table.

“I would rather disagreement means we stop and understand it before proceeding. Not forever. But long enough that nobody is being carried along because they happened to lose a vote.”

A trace of dry amusement returned. “And yes, that applies when the difficult person is you. But the part about not claiming an exception for your abilities—that is what I wanted. We can take that to Mirelen.”

“Yes, you put it much better, and that's more what I actually meant.”

“Then we agree.” Lethira reached across the table and briefly rested her fingers over his.

The knock at the door came before either of them could take the discussion further.

“That will probably be our builder.” Lethira glanced towards the window, then opened the door.

The builder stood outside with a short iron bar, a shovel over one shoulder and a coil of marked cord hanging from his belt. A younger labourer waited behind him with a wooden box of smaller tools.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” Lethira replied. “Breakfast is nearly finished. You can start without us if you prefer.”

“I prefer drains before conversation.”

“That sounds healthy.”

He gave her a look that suggested he had heard worse jokes from clients and stepped around the side of the house.

By the time Lethira reached the old bathhouse footing, he was already crouched beside the partially buried drainage opening. The earlier inspection had left the outline exposed, but not enough to show what happened beyond the first stones.

The labourer began clearing soil while the builder tested the visible masonry with the iron bar. For several minutes he said very little, then pointed at one section. “That is newer than the rest.”

Lethira crouched beside him without getting in his way. “How much newer?”

“Could be twenty years. Could be fifty. Not original, anyway.”

He scraped away another layer of compacted earth, exposing a different line of mortar. “Someone repaired this after the bathhouse stopped being properly maintained. They narrowed the run here.”

“Why?”

“Cheaper than rebuilding it.”

The answer carried professional contempt.

The labourer uncovered another stone and the builder shifted closer. He inserted the bar beneath its edge, tested resistance, then stopped.

“There.”

Beneath the repair, the old drain continued farther east than the visible footing suggested.

The builder sat back on his heels. “That is better news than I expected.”

Lethira glanced towards the buried line. “It still works?”

“I have not said that.”

He stood, brushed soil from his hands and looked towards the stream, judging slope and distance. “But the original run is still there. If it has not collapsed farther down, I can reopen it instead of giving you an entirely new drain. That saves stone, labour and probably an argument with the town office.”

Lethira smiled faintly.

“Probably?”

“They enjoy arguments when water is involved.”

The builder motioned to the labourer. “Open another two lengths. Carefully. I want to see whether the fall stays sensible.”

The labourer returned to work.

After several minutes the builder looked towards the house. “One other thing.” He tapped the old foundation with the toe of his boot. “If you want the new bath in the same place, I can keep most of this. If you want it larger, now is the time to say so. Once I draw the plan, changing the footprint means drawing it again.”

He looked between Lethira and Ian.

“So. Same bathhouse, or are you planning something more ambitious?”

Ian looked at Lethira.

“If the current size houses what we wanted inside, I don't want a larger room. Cozy is fine.”

Lethira looked over the surviving foundation again before answering.

“For what we discussed, I think it is enough. I would rather keep the good stone and spend the effort inside.”

“That is the sensible answer.” The builder stepped the old footprint with the marked cord, checking it against the notes he had made the day before, then marked his small board. “I can fit the bath you described in this without making the room cramped. Then I draw it as a repair and rebuild on the existing bounds, not an extension. We will see how much stone we can keep.”

From the open drain, the labourer called that the channel was still clear another section down. The builder’s expression improved noticeably.

“That is two pieces of good news before midday. I dislike days like this. They make clients optimistic.”

“I'll take the good news.”

“You should. You are paying for it.”

The inspection took another half hour. More of the old channel emerged beneath the soil, narrow but intact, with enough fall towards the stream that the builder eventually stopped asking for further excavation.

“No collapse. No roots through it. The repair near the bathhouse is ugly, but that is the part we already expected to replace.”

He stood. “So: most of the foundation stays. Eastern section rebuilt. Original drain reopened to its proper width and covered again. I will put an access stone here rather than burying the entire thing permanently.”

“So the plan can go ahead?” Lethira asked.

“Yes. I will draw it today. If I find nothing on paper that makes me regret what I just said, I can take the plan to the town office tomorrow.”

He glanced towards Ian.

“Enjoy the good news while it lasts. Building usually finds another way to become expensive.”

“You have a remarkable gift for reassuring customers,” Lethira said.

“It saves disappointment later.”

Ian chuckled.

“Thank you.”

He let them finish as needed.

The builder and his labourer spent another quarter hour restoring enough of the disturbed ground that the open drain was safe to leave until rebuilding began. The access point remained exposed and clearly marked, while loose stones and excavated soil were stacked out of the way.

Lethira walked the site with the builder once more before he left.

“No surprises added after I draw it,” he said.

“None planned.”

“That is not the same thing.”

“It is the best promise you are getting.”

He accepted that, collected his tools, and headed back towards Merrowford with the labourer.

For a little while the holding became quiet again.

A short message from Aelira arrived after the builders had left. Mirelen was with her and wanted to return to the holding, if Ian could shorten the journey.

“Of course.”

Ian brought her to the western road near the house.

Lethira noticed her approaching first. She shaded her eyes against the morning light, watched the approaching figure for several seconds, then relaxed slightly.

“Mirelen.”

The Warden was alone, her purposeful stride carrying her straight to the house. She greeted Lethira but did not sit. “I spoke with Aelira. And before either of you asks: no, she has not ordered us back to the island. But she does want to know exactly what we think we are going to do next.”

“Tea?” Ian asked.

Some of the official purpose left Mirelen’s face. “Yes. Please. I have been talking to people since early this morning. Tea would improve the next part considerably.”

Ian went to make the tea while they talked.

From the kitchen, their voices carried clearly enough without every word being distinct.

Lethira explained their breakfast agreement, including how they would handle disagreement before acting.

Mirelen approved of that more readily than Lethira seemed to expect.

“Good. Because Aelira asked almost the same question.”

By the time Ian brought the tea back and sat with them, Mirelen had taken the chair opposite Lethira at the front-room table and the island map had been unfolded across one end of the table.

Mirelen accepted her cup with both hands. “She made the same distinction between survey, observation and contact. Finding people does not make approaching them the next obvious step. Not that she rules it out altogether.”

Lethira glanced at Ian, then back to Mirelen.

“Ian confirmed inhabitants after we left.”

Mirelen went still. “How closely?”

“I was fairly close, although invisible.”

Ian gave her the rest of what he had seen: timber posts resolving into part of a fish barrier, two narrow boats drawn above the tide line, low buildings beneath the trees, nets or woven traps near the shore, and several humanoid figures moving between the water and the buildings. He had not stayed long enough to identify their race or species, learn anything about their language, or establish the size of the settlement beyond what was immediately visible.

Mirelen listened without interrupting. When he finished, she looked at Lethira. “You knew this?”

“After you left.”

Mirelen exhaled through her nose and set her cup down. “That would have changed the conversation with Aelira. The report was careful because *we* had not seen inhabitants. That remains true. But confirmed occupation from another witness is still information she should have had before deciding what question justified another look.”

Lethira did not defend the delay.

“Yes.”

Mirelen’s attention returned to Ian. “I am not going to repeat Lethira’s argument about going closer. I assume she already made it.”

“She did.”

“Good.”

Mirelen drew the map nearer and put one finger beside the inlet. “If we need to know who they are, what they call the island, or what they know about the rest of it, eventually somebody has to speak to them. Another invisible inspection interests me less now. But *eventually* is doing important work in that sentence.”

Ian nodded.

Mirelen turned the map so the inlet faced all three of them. “First I want to correct Aelira’s information. She does not need to approve every step, but she is working from an incomplete report.”

“That seems fair,” Lethira said.

“Then we need a reason for contact,” Mirelen continued. “Are they in danger? Does their presence change what the Wardens need to understand about the island? Do we need local knowledge before going farther inland, or do we want to establish relations? Those lead to different first conversations.”

Ian handed Mirelen a missive.

“If you write on that it will appear in front of Aelira, ask her to write her reply on the back and it will return.”

He added, “If this helps, you don't have to.”

Mirelen took the sheet and examined it. “It helps.” She drew the island map a little closer and began writing.

Lethira watched over the rim of her cup.

“You have accepted impossible correspondence remarkably quickly.”

“I walked on an artificial world the other day.”

“Fair.”

Mirelen kept the message concise. She corrected the part of her report that had described occupation as strongly indicated rather than directly witnessed, identified Ian as the witness, and summarised what he had actually seen without adding conclusions about population, species or intent. Beneath that she added that the three of them were discussing boundaries for any return and had not agreed to make contact.

After a pause, she added her judgment that further covert observation should require a specific purpose, then signed her name and asked Aelira to write on the reverse.

The sheet vanished.

She stared at the empty place for less than a second. “All right,” she said. “That is irritatingly useful.”

Lethira smiled.

“You see why we have to discourage him.”

“I am beginning to.”

Mirelen reclaimed her tea.

“Now we wait and discover whether Aelira considers this important enough to answer immediately.”

The missive reappeared on the table in front of Mirelen.

She caught it before the edge could slide into her tea.

“That was quick.”

Lethira leaned slightly closer as Mirelen turned the sheet over. Mirelen read in silence first, one eyebrow lifting at the line distinguishing advice from command, then read the relevant parts aloud.

“Confirmed habitation changes the report. No further covert observation simply because it is possible. Do not approach them yet—her advice, not a claim of authority over Ian or us outside our offices.”

“That sounds like Aelira,” Lethira said.

“She wants to speak to the King before recommending first contact. And she wants us to decide what we are actually prepared to tell the people there about ourselves, where we came from, and why we are on their island.” Mirelen lowered the sheet. “That is a better question than what we want to ask them.”

Ian let them continue.

Mirelen put the missive beside the map. “I am not explaining gods, other worlds and Ian before anybody has decided whether they want us standing on their shore.”

Lethira gave her a dry look. “I am relieved.”

“But I would not lie either.” Mirelen tapped the inlet. “If we go, I think the first truth is simple. We were exploring the island. We did not know people lived there. Now we do.”

“And that we are not claiming it,” Lethira added.

Mirelen agreed. Lethira considered the inlet still visible beneath Mirelen’s finger. “And if they tell us to leave?”

“We leave.” Mirelen answered at once.

“That is enough for me,” Lethira said.

Mirelen folded the map once, leaving the inlet visible rather than putting it away entirely.

“We can tell Aelira that when she comes back with the King’s view. And stop inventing policy around a table.”

That finally drew a smile from Lethira.

“I was beginning to worry you enjoyed it.”

“I am a Warden. We go outside specifically to avoid this sort of thing.”

She picked up her tea again.

“We could explore away from them, it's a big place,” Ian said.

Mirelen looked down at the map. “Yes. That is still Warden work. Coast, terrain, waterways, creatures, ruins if there are any. We do not need to turn one inhabited inlet into the whole island.”

“And it gives us something useful to do while Aelira speaks to the King,” Lethira said.

Mirelen traced a broad section of coastline well away from the settlement.

“We avoid their immediate territory until we know more. Everywhere else remains open unless we find another reason to stop.”

“Inland, coast? Or should I bring up a—” Ian gave a small ahem. “—more detailed map?”

Mirelen’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So I finally get to see the island Lethira described.”

Lethira’s mouth twitched.

“My sketch was not that bad.”

“I did not say it was.”

Mirelen leaned back over the existing map.

“Coast first gave us orientation, but if we keep following it we are more likely to find other settlements before we understand the island itself. I would rather go inland next—well away from this inlet—and see what feeds those rivers, what the ground does, and whether the large creatures we found near the coast are typical or merely coastal.”

Lethira nodded.

“Inland would be my choice too.”

Mirelen finally looked back at Ian.

“And yes. If your *more detailed map* can show terrain without telling us everything worth discovering before we get there, I would like to see it.”

Ian produced the island on the table again at reduced scale, the familiar impossible landscape rising above the wood without the earlier option to zoom or manipulate it.

Mirelen fell silent. She had already flown over the island, but seeing it whole in one view changed the possibilities. Rivers now offered routes inland, and the single inhabited inlet occupied only a small part of the coast.

Lethira leaned closer first.

Without the option of turning or enlarging it, the bilocated island demanded ordinary looking. The high ground stood out more clearly from this angle, as did the way several watercourses appeared to run down towards different coasts. The inlet they had already visited remained obvious enough once Mirelen found it.

Mirelen studied the rest for a while. Her finger stopped well away from the known settlement, indicating a broad stretch of country between one of the larger rivers and the higher ground beyond it. “Land somewhere distant, work in from the coast. Here.”

Lethira considered the same ground and nodded.

“And if this model is honest enough to be useful,” Mirelen continued, “it gives us a better chance of not stumbling into somebody else’s home by pretending an empty map means empty land.”

“It's not strictly speaking a model ....”

Mirelen looked at him, then at the island. “I know. Lethira told me.” She was quiet for a beat. “I was choosing a comfortable word.”

Lethira smiled into her tea. “It did not help me either.”

Mirelen leaned closer, studying the impossible little coastline with rather more caution now that she was seeing the thing herself rather than hearing Lethira describe it.

“The actual island, then. Here and there at the same time. I do not want to inspect it in detail from your front room. Broad terrain is useful. The rest we can discover by going there.” Her attention settled again on the stretch between river and high ground. “That valley. Or somewhere near it.”

“Shall I ask reality to confirm if that area is uninhabited or shall we just be careful on arrival?”

Mirelen considered the question. “If it can answer only that question, ask.”

“We are not asking it to explore for us,” Lethira agreed. “Only whether we are about to arrive in somebody’s home.”

Mirelen kept her eyes on the valley. “If the answer is uncertain, we treat it as inhabited and approach carefully. If it says nobody lives there, we still use our eyes when we arrive. But I see no virtue in surprising people merely to preserve the purity of the expedition.”

The answer came back cleanly.

The broad area Mirelen had indicated was uninhabited.

No settlement, permanent dwelling or resident population occupied the valley or the surrounding ground they had selected.

Mirelen studied the bilocated landscape again, her expression shifting towards anticipation. “Good. Then that is where I would go next.”

“When would you like to go?” Ian asked.

Mirelen looked once more at the valley, then sat back. “Tomorrow morning. I want to send Aelira one ordinary message telling her where we intend to be, then collect the equipment I would have brought if I had expected today to turn into planning another expedition.”

Lethira smiled faintly.

“Sensible.”

“It happens occasionally.”

Mirelen glanced towards the vanished bathhouse builders, then back to the island.

“Early enough to give us a full day inland. We can decide there whether it deserves another.”

Ian smiled.

“Sounds good to me.”

Mirelen finished the last of her tea and folded the ordinary paper map, leaving the impossible island itself untouched on the table.

“I will bring rope, field kit, enough food for a long day, and something heavier than optimism if the inland wildlife resembles the coast.”

Lethira gave her a sidelong look.

“That sounds suspiciously like experience.”

“It is.”

Mirelen stood. “I will send Aelira the location before I leave Merrowford. No more discussion unless she comes back with something that actually changes the plan.”

Ian looked at Lethira.

“Pizza for dinner?”

Then at Mirelen.

“For three?”

“Yes.” Lethira smiled immediately, but Mirelen hesitated.

“I would like to. But my proper field kit is at home, and if I leave by ordinary road now, tomorrow morning is obviously impossible.” She looked at Ian. “So unless that invitation comes with one of your shortcuts, I have created a problem for myself.”

“I'm happy to give you a shortcut home and a self-initiated return here, when you're ready?”

Mirelen considered that more carefully than she had the offer of pizza.

“If *self-initiated* means I choose when it happens, and it brings me back here rather than depending on you noticing that I am ready, then yes. That solves the problem.”

She glanced towards Lethira. “And I would much rather prepare from my own stores than borrow half your field kit.”

Lethira nodded her agreement. Mirelen turned back to Ian. “How would I trigger the return?”

“Just think of our kitchen with a strong desire to be here, like with the island.”

Mirelen glanced towards the kitchen with slight suspicion. “All right. And if the pizza is still part of the arrangement, I intend to test that too.”

“We shall await your return.” Ian smiled at her. “Where do you wish to go?”

“Home,” Mirelen said, adjusting the strap of her pack. “If you can put me there directly, I will choose what I need, collect some clean clothes, send Aelira the location, and return here when I am ready.”

Mirelen disappeared to where she wished to be.

Ian got up and crossed to Lethira, still seated at the table. He leaned down and kissed her deeply.

“Love you.”

Lethira returned the kiss without hurry, one hand settling against his side. “I love you too.” When she drew back, she looked towards the place Mirelen had occupied a moment before. “We have apparently solved several days of travel because you wanted to feed her pizza.” Her mouth curved. “I approve of the outcome.”

Ian played lightly with Lethira’s hair, his fingers settling against the back of her neck.

“I wonder what this part of the island will be like.”

Lethira leaned subtly into his touch, her attention drifting back towards the impossible island still suspended above the table. “So do I.” She studied the inland valley for a few moments. “We have seen coast, enormous animals, and one place where people live. That is nowhere near enough to know what *normal* looks like there.”

Her fingers rested loosely around his wrist. “I am hoping for forest, rivers, tracks, things we can argue over identifying, and at least several hours before anything tries to eat us. Though I am no longer foolish enough to expect the island to respect that preference.”

Ian kissed the tip of Lethira’s ear as they waited for Mirelen to return.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then turned her head just enough to give him a look that was more fond than reproachful. “You are very distracting.”

Mirelen took the afternoon to prepare and send her message. By the time she was ready to return, it was nearly dinner time.

Mirelen reappeared in the kitchen with a fuller pack, a rolled cloak secured beneath it, and the compact, practical arrangement of someone who had packed for real fieldwork rather than an afternoon excursion. A coil of rope crossed one shoulder. Her bow and quiver were back in place, along with a heavier knife at her belt.

She looked down at herself, then around the kitchen. “That worked.”

“Welcome back,” Lethira said.

Mirelen came through to the front room, adjusting the weight of the pack. “Aelira has the location. She acknowledged it and had nothing that changes tomorrow’s plan.” Her attention moved towards the table. “And I was promised pizza.”

Ian produced three medium pizzas, each sufficient for a hungry elf or human: ham and mushroom, pepperoni, and a vegetarian one with extra cheese. A bottle of cola appeared with them.

Mirelen stared at the table. “That is excessive.”

Lethira had already reached for a plate. “No. It is dinner.”

Mirelen looked at the three different pizzas, then at the dark bottle.

“I recognise none of this.”

“That is part of the entertainment,” Lethira said.

Mirelen sat and chose a slice of ham and mushroom first, more cautiously than she had approached the island. The first bite stopped her. She chewed, looked down at it, and took another. “Oh.”

“Yes.” Lethira smiled.

“This is extremely unfair food.” Mirelen pointed at the slice, then towards the bottle. “And what is that?”

Ian fetched three suitable glasses and poured the cola, setting one in front of Mirelen and keeping the others for himself and Lethira.

“You should try it, Mirelen, just a sip at first.”

Mirelen regarded the dark, fizzing drink with immediate suspicion. “It is moving.”

Lethira took her own glass with rather more confidence. “That is normal.”

“That does not make it reassuring.”

Mirelen lifted the glass, smelled it, then took the cautious sip Ian had suggested. Her eyes widened. She swallowed. “What is wrong with it?”

“Nothing.” Lethira laughed.

Mirelen took another, slightly larger sip. “It bites. And it is far too sweet.” She paused, considering the drink. “I think I like it.”

“I'm spotting a pattern here,” Ian said, looking at Lethira.

He took a slice of pepperoni pizza and began to eat.

Lethira glanced from Mirelen’s cola to the half-eaten slice in her hand. “Yes. Apparently someone put considerable effort into making this food impossible to dislike.”

“I disliked the drink for at least three heartbeats,” Mirelen said.

“That was very brave of you.”

Mirelen ignored her and reached instead for a slice of the vegetarian pizza.

For a moment the room settled into the comfortable sounds of eating. Then Lethira looked at Ian over the rim of her glass. “You realise this means tomorrow’s expedition now has standards.”

Ian laughed and continued eating.

Mirelen eventually tried the pepperoni as well, though with less enthusiasm than the first two. She chewed, considered it, then reached back towards the ham and mushroom. “That one is better.”

Lethira nodded towards the rejected slice. “You have discovered preference. Ian will be devastated.”

Mirelen gave her a flat look. “I am trying food, not swearing allegiance to it.”

The meal settled again after that.

Between slices, Mirelen asked practical questions about tomorrow: how much water they intended to carry, whether they wanted enough food for an unexpected night out, and whether the inland valley looked wet enough to make heavier boots worthwhile.

Lethira answered where she could and admitted uncertainty where she could not.

The pizzas dwindled to scattered crusts and a few surviving slices as they talked about packs, boots, weather and distance.

“Shall I remain at your rears, as it were, and await instruction to act again?” Ian asked.

Lethira’s mouth twitched immediately, but Mirelen looked at him for a moment. “No. Tomorrow you are not an aide on somebody else’s contract. You are part of the expedition. Stay with us, say what you notice, and if you think something needs doing, tell us rather than waiting to be ordered.”

Lethira took another drink of cola. “You may still admire our rears if that helps morale.”

Mirelen slowly turned her head towards her. “I am choosing not to become involved in that part of the arrangement.”

“Team morale is very, very important.”

Lethira laughed. Mirelen looked as though she had several possible answers and rejected all of them as encouraging the wrong behaviour.

The last slices disappeared more slowly than the first. Mirelen returned to the cola despite continuing to describe it as excessive, and Lethira eventually abandoned any pretence that the extra-cheese pizza was meant to be shared equally.

Talk wandered away from the island for a while. Mirelen asked about the bathhouse work, listened to Lethira explain the surviving drain and reusable foundation, and approved of the builder’s preference for finding buried problems before putting walls over them.

The island remained above the table throughout, reduced and impossible, sometimes ignored for several minutes at a time before one of the elves looked back towards the inland valley.

By later evening, Mirelen gathered her field gear again. “I am going to sleep in my own bed while your ridiculous shortcut makes that possible.”

“Understandable,” Lethira said.

“I will come back in the morning ready to leave.” Mirelen’s eyes moved briefly towards the remains of dinner. “And I am not bringing breakfast. Apparently this house has standards now.”

“See you in the morning, Mirelen. I’ll send you home now, and you can bring yourself back here in the morning.”

“In the morning.” Mirelen gave Ian a small nod, then looked towards Lethira. “Try not to redesign the expedition after I leave.”

“No promises.”

“That was the wrong answer.”

Mirelen’s mouth twitched despite herself.

A moment later she was gone.

The front room became noticeably quieter without her. Lethira looked at the space she had occupied, then at Ian. “I think she liked the pizza.”

“Everyone likes pizza.”

Ian walked over, kissed the top of Lethira’s head, then leaned over her shoulder from behind and loosely put his arms around her.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?”

Lethira rested back against him. “Yes. More than I was for the coast, I think.” She looked towards the small island still hanging above the table. “The coast was exciting because everything was unknown. Tomorrow feels different. We know enough now to have questions.”

Her hands settled lightly over his forearms. “What feeds those rivers. Whether the inland animals are as absurdly large. Whether the forest changes with elevation. Whether there are paths, ruins, old boundaries, anything that tells us the island has a history beyond what we happened to see first.”

She tipped her head slightly against him, smiling. “And I like that we are going somewhere because we chose to explore it, not because we are chasing a problem.”

“We should get some sleep and be up early, then. Let me clear this up first.”

Ian cleared away the leftovers and the remains of dinner while Lethira put the kitchen back into something resembling order around him. The impossible island vanished from above the table, leaving only the ordinary map, the lesson sheet and the two machine-made images behind.

Upstairs, Ian followed her towards the bedroom.

“This view definitely improves morale.”

Lethira looked back over her shoulder.

“You have been thinking about that joke for far too long.”

She was smiling when she said it.