The fabric was rough and plain, but it warmed her against the chill of the night and the fog lying thick over the lake. The bottom of the narrow kayak in which she sat was thin and chilled from the water cupping it close. A lantern cast light mayhap a dozen yards ahead of the fragile vessel. Just enough to see the swirling tendrils of mist clutching at them. How the boatman knew his way, she could not fathom. Somewhere in the middle of this hidden lake lay a hidden island, and on it lived a hidden child. And it was her purpose this night to keep that child hidden. But to do so, he must leave this place and go where the Empire could not find him. An Imperial hunter and his hounds, trained to seek out Children of Fate, tracked the boy’s scent only a few days behind her. A sense of traveling into some nether region, neither life nor death, clutched at her. This place was ancient, infused with magics older than time. The mist itself felt magical caressing her cheeks, vaguely malevolent. An urge to order the oarsman to row faster nearly overcame her.
