One Hundred and Sixty Four

Kahlan

The boat groaned softly as it pulled away from the dock, the sound of ancient wood shifting against the freezing water cutting straight through the heavy, suffocating quiet in my head.

I stood at the edge for a moment longer than necessary, my fingers gripping the splintered wood of the railing as I watched the shoreline shrink until it became nothing but a darker, jagged smear against the charcoal night.

The safety of the land, with its solid ground and predictable shadows, faded quickly into the gloom, swallowed by a rising mist and an ever-growing distance that felt more like a barrier than a measurement.

The sea closed around us like a giant, liquid hand that had been waiting patiently for us to leave the protection of the harbor.

Behind me, the boat creaked again as Tyler adjusted the rigging with sharp, irritated movements that betrayed the jittery energy hummed beneath his skin.

“Next time,” he muttered, his voice gravelly and low, not looking at me as he fought with a stubborn knot.

“You tell me we’re going to die before I agree to play captain on a suicide mission.”

I huffed softly, the sound lost in the damp air.

“You’re still here, Tyler.”

“Ask me again in an hour when the waves start looking like mountains.”

The water grew rougher and more erratic the farther we pushed into the open expanse.

The wind tugged at my clothes, cold fingers slipping beneath the layers of fabric like it was searching for a way to touch my skin and steal the warmth away.

Freya moved closer to Dylan instinctively, her shoulder brushing his in a silent plea for stability.

Dylan shifted the heavy care package bag higher on his shoulder, his jaw set in a hard, uncompromising line as if he were holding back a flood of words he didn't have the breath to say.

“Everything good?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching Freya’s face for any sign of the fatigue she was trying so hard to hide.

Freya nodded, though she couldn't stop herself from glancing over the side of the boat into the black water.

Her hand rested unconsciously on her stomach, a protective gesture that made my chest ache.

“Just… keep going,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the spray.

We hadn’t gone far when Tyler suddenly stiffened, his entire body going rigid as he squinted into the dark, churning water ahead of the bow.

“Hold on,” he said, his voice dropping into a sharp, focused alert.

“You see that?”

My heart dropped instantly, my pulse beginning to thrum with a familiar, dread-filled rhythm.

“See what?” I asked, stepping closer to him, my eyes straining against the darkness.

“There,” he said again, pointing toward a patch of foam where the moonlight struggled to penetrate.

“That shape. It’s not driftwood, and it's definitely not a wave.”

The boat lurched violently as a massive surge lifted us toward the clouds, then dropped us back down hard enough that my stomach flipped over.

When the white water settled again and the spray cleared from my eyes, I finally saw it.

A body.

“Oh gods,” Freya whispered, her voice trembling as she pressed her hand to her mouth.

The shape bobbed weakly in the water, rising and falling with the uncaring waves like it was a piece of debris that didn't belong to itself anymore.

It looked impossibly small and fragile against the backdrop of the vast, predatory sea.

“Sasha,” I breathed, the realization hitting me like a physical blow to the solar plexus.

Dylan moved first, his instincts overriding the shock as he reached for a coil of rope.

“Get us closer, Tyler! Move!”

Tyler swore under his breath, but his hands remained steady on the wheel as he steered carefully, angling the boat just enough to avoid smashing into her limp form with the heavy hull.

The closer we got, the worse she looked under the flickering lantern light.

Her skin was pale—not just fair, but a ghostly, translucent white that looked like marble.

Her hair was plastered to her face in dark, wet ribbons, her limbs hanging slack and heavy as if the ocean had already convinced her that she wasn't worth fighting for.

“Don’t let go,” I said, the words meant more for the universe than for the people beside me.

We hauled her up onto the deck together, a frantic scramble of limbs and desperation.

Dylan grabbed her arms, his muscles bulging with the effort, while Tyler caught her legs to keep her from slipping back into the abyss.

I reached for her shoulders, my hands slipping repeatedly against the freezing, salt-slicked fabric of her clothes and the icy touch of her skin.

She hit the deck hard, her body convulsing as she began to cough violently.

Seawater spilled from her mouth and nose in a jagged rush as her body shook with the force of a deep, bone-chilling cold.

“Sasha,” I said urgently, dropping to my knees beside her and ignoring the way the wet wood soaked into my jeans.

“Hey. Stay with us. Look at me.”

She coughed again, a wet, rattling sound that made my own lungs ache, her hands clawing weakly at the deck as if she were trying to dig her way into the wood.

I grabbed a thick, wool blanket from Dylan’s bag and wrapped it tightly around her shivering shoulders.

“How the hell are you even here?” I demanded, my voice shaking with a mixture of anger and relief that I couldn't quite separate.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, the lids heavy and red-rimmed from the salt.

For a moment, they didn’t focus on anything at all, staring through me as if she were still seeing the bottom of the ocean.

Then she swallowed hard and rasped, “I followed Ava.”

That single, broken sentence punched the remaining air right out of my lungs.

“What?” Freya said sharply, her voice echoing the shock that rippled through all of us.

“Why would you do something that reckless?”

Sasha closed her eyes again, breathing shallow and uneven.

“Because… someone needed to ask her,” she whispered.

“Properly. Face to face.”

I glanced at Dylan, who was already kneeling on the other side of her, his hand steadying Sasha’s shaking arm with a quiet strength.

“Ask her what, Sasha?” he asked gently, leaning in to hear her answer.

“ About My mom,” Sasha whispered, her voice cracking.

“About everything she keeps hiding behind those riddles and secrets.”

She swallowed hard, her face tightening in a grimace of pain.

Her fingers curled weakly into the rough wool of the blanket.

“I was glad when you all finally stopped following her,” she added faintly, a ghost of a smile touching her lips.

“I thought… good. Now she won’t run because she thinks she's alone.”

A cold, heavy knot formed in the center of my chest.

“What happened next?” I asked, leaning closer to catch the fear in her expression.

Sasha opened her eyes again, and for the first time since we pulled her from the deathly cold of the water, there was raw, unfiltered fear in them.

“She opened the air,” she said.

Tyler let out a low, vibrant curse from the helm.

“She did what?”

Sasha shuddered, the movement rattling her teeth together.

“It was like… the world just tore open. Right in front of me.”

Her voice wavered and broke, and Freya reached out, squeezing her frozen hand to give her something to hold onto.

“There was light,” Sasha went on, her gaze fixed on the mist.

“And then absolute dark. And this sound… like screaming, but not from any kind of people I know.”

I felt the skin on the back of my neck prickle with a sudden, sharp alarm.

“It looked wrong,” Sasha said, her voice dropping.

“Like something that shouldn’t exist in this world or any other.”

“A rift,” I murmured, the word feeling heavy and dangerous on my tongue.

She nodded weakly, her head lulling against her chest.

“I didn’t think about the consequences. I just… I stepped through.”

Dylan inhaled sharply, his hand tightening on the deck.

“You actually stepped into it?”

“I didn’t know it would hurt like that,” Sasha said, tears finally slipping down her temples and disappearing into the wet strands of her hair.

“The other side—it was violent. Like being thrown out of your own body and shattered.”

Her breath hitched as a new wave of nausea seemed to roll over her.

“I couldn’t stop throwing up for hours. My body wouldn’t stop rejecting the change in the air.”

That explained everything with a horrifying clarity.

That was exactly why Ava had warned us that her method wasn’t safe for someone in Freya's condition.

“I crawled to the shore. I don’t remember much after that.”

A heavy, oppressive silence fell over the deck, broken only by the sound of the wind.

Tyler straightened his back, his face hard and unforgiving as he looked out at the mist.

“She should’ve warned you more clearly.”

“She did,” Sasha said faintly, her voice fading.

“Just… not clearly enough to stop me.”

The boat creaked as it cut deeper into the swirling mist, the grey fog thickening quickly until it swallowed the moonlight whole.

The world shrank until it was just the wet deck beneath our feet and the bottomless dark of the water beyond.

No one spoke for a long time, the weight of Sasha's story hanging over us like a shroud.

Soren sat at the very bow of the boat, his back turned to all of us, his broad shoulders rigid and unmoving.

He hadn’t moved or spoken since we left the dock, his eyes locked on the horizon as if he were holding the world together with his gaze.

I sat as far from him as possible on the small vessel.

Even with the distance ..All I Want to do was be next to him,to go back to how we were a few hours ago

But he's refused to apologize or see reason in where I'm coming from

It wasn't because I didn't want him near me; it was because I wanted him too much.

But regardless …Since the darkness was spreading…I couldn't help but wonder if his head was at least quiet.

I wondered if he felt how close the darkness was getting to the finish line.

I wondered if he was pretending everything was fine just for my sake, to keep me from breaking.

The boat rocked violently as a massive wave hit us from the side, sending a spray of freezing water across the deck.

Freya gasped, clutching Dylan's arm.

Dylan swore, his feet sliding on the wet wood.

I grabbed the railing, steadying my body against the tilt, my gaze drawn back to the d

ark silhouette of Soren.

*Hold on*, I thought fiercely, the words a silent prayer directed at his back.

*Just hold on a little longer…Please don't leave me*

Almost like he heard me,he turned around and just held my gaze.