Chapter 10

When the ferry was no longer in sight, Richard had finally stopped fighting the waves altogether. His fear of the open ocean was overwhelming, and with the waves constantly crashing over his head, there was no true hope of escape. His mouth tasted dreadfully of salt and grime, and his bare skin stung from the overexposure. At this point, he wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and let the waves carry him away.

But, then again, maybe Richard wasn't quite willing to give up altogether just now.

Deep inside himself, Richard could feel his conscience yelling for him to keep going, to push away all his fright and put his head to work again. I am a Proverb, he thought, but what can save me when I'm so exhausted and in the middle of some ocean?

For a time, Richard considered his options, and focused on deep breaths to relax his tired muscles. And during that period, he drifted far away enough from London that the waves started to crash less and less, becoming a little gentler. In those waves, Richard was better able to calm himself, and think more clearly.

At last, he was able to muster enough strength to call a raft, which he hoisted himself upon with jelly-like arms, but could at least save himself from the water. The breeze was freezing against his cold skin, making his teeth batter harshly, so he conjured a fresh cloak for himself, wrapping himself inside so snugly that from far off he would have resembled a misshapen bear, rather than a human being.

Once that was done, Richard collapsed without a second's pause onto the raft floor. The thoughts whirling in his mind made him feel sick, and his endless swim through the ocean didn't help much at all. It was hard to believe, even now, that in less than a day, he had managed to lose both his friends, and was now stranded in the middle of who-knew-where. After having spent such a time with Chloe after their reunion at Dracula's tower, and being so glad to see her after so long, he had never considered losing her again. Even more horrifying, was that Alice was gone as well, lost in a crowd of terrified boat passengers, and perhaps never to make it to the rotunda on her own. Quite truthfully, Richard had taken it to heart that he was supposed to protect his friends, no matter what the odds were. And the fact that they were both gone, and he was lost yet again without any help, slashed at him like two great knives, so it was hard forgetting about them.

Besides, what he needed- wanted- at the minute was to simply close his eyes and sleep. Everything that had happened- rowing through the night to London, running from the Martians, then taking an ocean swim, and then being separated from his friends- left him without any energy or will left, and so he succumbed quite easily to rest.

With the raft rocking like a cradle in the midst of the waves, Richard closed his eyes, and pulled the folds of the huge, furry cloak into him. His skin was like gentle fire since the brutal cold now, and his muscles automatically slumped when sleep fell upon him like a warm nighttime blanket.

For several hours, Richard's raft floated aimlessly across the water, the one sail billowing in the breeze. Richard stayed tucked away inside the cloak, very still, like some lonely corpse floating out to sea for an unknown destination. And as he slept, the color came back into his cheeks, and his breathing more prominent while the cold lifted from him. His mind, for the time being, was calm, without any horrid dreams to disturb him, and for the first time in a long time, he slept to his heart's desire, temporarily without care.

Chuckink!

A humongous jolt shook the raft, and Richard tumbled from slumber, rolling forward and out of his cloak, into a mound of pure white sand. His clothes, still damp from the swim, became full of the white grains, etching into his skin uncomfortably.

Wait! Sand?

Richard raised his head, scratching the sand from his hair, rubbing it from his eyes. Surprised, he scooped his hand through the sand, and felt his stomach turn to discover that he was no longer stranded in the water.

Land!

But, what kind of land? And, maybe, what kind of people lived on it?

Richard raised his dazed head up again, and slowly began to take in his surroundings. Before him, there were several stone mounds, of the same pretty white as the sand. They rose to different heights, like a bunch of marble skyscrapers, all polished and shiny. They sparkled like ice against the bright sun, magnificent compared to the normal, natural mounds Richard remembered learning about. These were certainly not like that. They had to have been constructed by powerful, magical hands- far too beautiful for a mortal.

And then, up on the flat top of one of the mounds, there came a large figure, clad all in dark color. Richard leapt up in case the mysterious thing might be a shadow creature, lifting his hand to attack it, his legs spread apart to run.

But the figure slowly emerged, and a human head appeared, with long, gorgeous hair waving in the high breeze. The blackness surrounding the person was a dress, fragments of thin and dark fabric moving with the wind.

"Great! Civilization!" Richard thought for the second time, relaxing his tensed hand. But then, when he stepped back to further observe this new spectacle, his breath escaped him with wonder.

On top of each of the mounds, a human woman was standing. They were dressed in similar clothing, all with dark colors of blue, purple, or black, but very simply. No large, poufy skirts, no grand jewelry- just simple dresses with simple objects strung into their loosely-hanging hair. Each of the women stood perfectly still, their faces turned to the water, and their hands placed together at their stomachs, like a statue in a temple with hands together in prayer.

"Can't they see me?" Richard wondered aloud.

"They do not come down, nor look elsewhere, until they are called."

Richard gasped, turning to the direction of the voice. It had been high, feminine, and mysterious, as if purposefully hiding a secret beneath the beauty.

And, quite beautiful it was.

Not too far from Richard, there was a young woman. She had long, curly dark hair, framing a face of rich-looking skin. Bright, piercing eyes sparkled in the middle of her perfect face. A small nose topped a pair of full, lavender lips, which slowly parted while the woman smiled at him.

"Where am I?" Richard asked her. "I- I need to get back to my friends."

"You are safe. That is all it shall ever be," she answered.

"But, what exactly, is this place?" Richard elaborated. "Which ocean, which island- just…what?"

"This is your home." The woman's gaze, and her expression, never changed in light of this answer. When Richard looked back at her, she simply grinned, not giving an indication that she would say any more.

"You don't get it," Richard said. "I've come here by mistake, and I need to find the rotunda, and get back to my friends."

The woman looked at him, almost like she was sorry for him. "No one goes from this island," she explained. "It has everything that you'll ever need for your life."

Richard looked wide-eyed at the woman.

"You look tired," the woman said. "Would you like water?"

Richard didn't quite trust this woman- much less her mouth- but after that awful journey through the water, with the salty taste still grimy on his tongue, it was hard for Richard to keep his head from nodding.

"Bring water!" the woman called. Immediately, some of the women standing on the mounds stepped down, disappearing from view. Soon, they came to the sand, all of them helping to carry an enormous jug. It sloshed gently while they carried it, and then finally handed it to Richard. Tentatively, he removed the plug, and raised it to his lips. The icy liquid smoothed across his dried tongue like melted chocolate, and he found that he was raising the jug higher and higher, letting the water rush down his throat, dripping out of the corners of his mouth and into the sand.

"Feel better?" the woman asked, peering down at Richard.

Richard absentmindedly nodded his head, dazed from the relief the water brought.

The woman only smiled, holding out her hands to help Richard from the ground. He was hesitant, but eventually, he was back on his feet, sweeping the sand from his clothes.

"It's only every couple hundred years I have a guest," the woman said softly. "Come. Come and rest inside my home." She started a slow walk towards one of the bigger stone mounds.

Her words threw Richard off. "Hundred years," he said to himself, while the pieces slowly started to come together. "Are- are you a goddess, or something?"

The woman turned, and swept back her dress, to reveal her long legs covered with bangles and gold and silver bands.

"I am, but only half," she answered, a fierce, daring sparkle glinting in her bright eyes. "I am Calypso."