It is small, with a mountain in the middle, and it’s shrouded by fog in every season of the year—hidden from passing ships, invisible to the gods, invisible even to the great lord Poseidon, whose realm this is. Only Athene knows it exists, because she put it there, and has carefully protected it these seventeen years. Now she is preparing to destroy it. If everything goes as planned, if the many threads of her intricate web come together as she intends, this blessed island—with its meadows and forests, soft grass, and perfect trees whose leaves gleam as if they had been polished, the delicate waterfalls that drop into clear pools far below, the birds and foxes and fireflies, and the wind that sings in harmony—all will sink back into the sea from whence it came and disappear forever. The three good souls who live here—Claudio, Aria, and Teo—don’t know this is about to happen. They go about their days unaware. They sleep peacefully in their little cave dwelling, fitted by the goddess with smooth stone floors, rectangular rooms, arched doorways, and natural stone benches of varying shapes and sizes, all exactly as required to serve as tables, beds, and stools.
