Page 161 of The Cradle of Ice

As the raft reached the mists, the sea below vanished. Nyx rose from her bench and crossed over to the window opposite Brayl. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, likely picturing the young man waiting for her.

Silence settled over the raft, all lost in their own thoughts and worries. Traveling through the mists, it was difficult to judge the distance they’d crossed. Brayl kept her focus between a compass and the skies, watching for any threats. Though she looked calm, sweat pebbled her brow. Still, she kept puffing on her pipe and sailed them onward, only firing the forges periodically, mostly letting them drift.

Slowly, the mists grew brighter ahead of them.

“The island of Kefta,” Nyx whispered, as if fearing the townspeople below might hear her.

Graylin touched Brayl’s shoulder. “Best circle clear. We don’t want the flash of our forge to be seen by anyone down there.”

Brayl didn’t acknowledge him, but the raft tilted and angled away, giving that patch of glowing mists a wide berth.

Once past it, they continued their quiet passage across the Crèche. Time stretched. Graylin’s eyes strained from staring into the featureless fog. Overhead, the radiant glow of the day dimmed to the eerie pale blue of eventide. With less light, the mists drew closer.

Brayl swore and jerked hard on the wheel. She pounded a pedal. The small forge roared, turning the mists fiery behind them. The raft heaved high to the starboard side.

Only then did Graylin spot the danger.

Ahead, a spear of ice cut through the mists.

The raft rolled to the side of it. But just barely. Their gasbag bumped against the frozen lance. A loud scraping trembled the hull on that side. A thunderous snap of ice reverberated through the hold. Graylin pictured that spear breaking away and slicing through the mists to stab the sea.

Everyone held their breath. The only signal that they were truly safe was a spool of smoke from Brayl’s sigh of relief.

“I’d say that’s enough of this soupy clag,” Brayl muttered. “We should be beyond any prying eyes by now. I’m taking us down.”

As she lowered the raft, Jace came up to join them. His face looked paler after the collision. He likely intended to help watch for any additional threats.

Once they dropped out of the mists, the dark green of the sea appeared under them. It was far closer than anyone expected, suggesting that the roof overhead had been slowly lowering the farther west they traveled. Below, they could discern the stripes of whitecapped swells. Something large humped through the waves, showing a flash of a wide tail before vanishing deep.

“A kefta,” Nyx mumbled.

Graylin frowned, not understanding.

She motioned to the sea. “The island town is named after those massive beasts.”

Jace searched where she pointed. “How did you recognize it?”

“Daal … I remembered when…” She gave a small shake of her head, as if trying to dislodge a memory. “Never mind.”

Graylin’s frown deepened. She had told them—though her account was sketchy—how she had briefly shared some of Daal’s life while merged with the Dreamers. He suspected her recognition of the kefta came from a memory that was not her own. But he didn’t press her on it.

“We’re getting pinched,” Brayl warned.

Graylin’s attention returned to the window. The seas kept rising under them as the bank of mists above forced them downward.

“The cavern roof keeps dropping on us,” Jace said, craning his neck to look up. “We must be nearing the western edge of the sea.”

“Not nearing it,” Nyx declared. “We’ve reached it. Look ahead!”

The end of the world pushed out of the fog. A jagged ice cliff cut across their path. It climbed from the sea to the mists. Cascades of luminous growth spilled down its side in shining blue cataracts. The glow revealed deep fissures and hollow-mouthed cavern openings. Shallow grottoes shone with brighter hues of crimson and yellow, as if eventide had not yet reached this western edge.

Across the breadth of it, one detail was prominent.

The cracks and broken slabs of ice did indeed look like the fangs of a monstrous beast—a giant leviathan rising out of the sea, waiting to devour them.

“There!” Nyx yelled, startling them all, pointing near the base of the cliffs.

Graylin searched for a breath, then spotted a spat of flame floating in the seas off that jagged coast. A tiny skiff bobbed in the dark water. It looked like a flake of fiery ash drifting before an icy colossus.