“As the shredded wings beat the air, the gusting sent the water up in massive waves. The fury, freezing and soaking, crashed against the bridge and the old watch towers, knocking of weathered bricks and tiles. Corleon stood petrified on the bridge, his eyes shifting from the skeletal monstrosity to Rineswood, the last haven, so close and yet so depressingly far away. Below him, enduring the turbulence, was Mapher’s ship, every sail hoisted and taut.” – Emily Kinney, author of The Island of Lote