The mercenaries of Selwyn’s horde cast out from the harbors of Eir Nu by the time night lifted. They raced for Avalon. Lonan did not know about Una Beli’s horde, but feared the fear that was rank in the air. He listened to his father’s whetstone skim over his blade again and again, or his black boots pacing across the deck. The mercenaries all spoke to each other in growling voices.

In the coming days, currents tossed and mocked them. Warriors moaned the names of macabre ships when outlines appeared in the night, or when the shadows of early fog looked like looming sails. Breezes carried the tanged scent of green apples (which, as everyone knew, was the smell of a Dúrevan Witch’s magic).

Paranoia and tempers snapped like whips at even the bravest crew members. The whole ship roiled with so much tension Lonan was too afraid to cry most of the time. Seagulls froze his blood when their shadows winged overhead.

When at last the ship found the flank of outer Avalon, nearly a week past, the whole wooden beast finally gasped and heaved to a stop in the shallows. Lonan felt like he had died.

–“Lost and Found,” Elyan White

Here’s the first edited clip from “Lost and Found,” as promised! I know it’s a little behind, there’ll be another one today. This excerpt is from the prologue. Here be pirates!