It’s not there.
Either he’s somewhere else in the Lost Islands, or he’s dead. He might actually be dead, and I’ve been chasing a ghost this whole time.
Kieran sheathes his blade, apparently deciding the Lotus Eaters aren’t an immediate physical threat, the sound yanking my mind and my magic back to the beach.
“We have the same problem as we did before we got here.” He gestures at the empty barrels tipped over on the deck. “No food or water.”
My stomach chooses that moment to cramp, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything except drugged fruit in over a day.
“According to the texts, the fruit is the only food source on the island,” I say, thinking out loud. “But we can’t eat it without falling back under the lotus’s influence.”
Callie manages to sit up and look around. “The water’s shallow enough here that we can try using our weapons to fish. As long as we stay in the water, we should be free of the lotus’s influence.”
“We still need fresh water.” Kieran calls fire to his palm— orange flames laced with veins of blue-white, like heated steel. “They’re witches, but their minds are compromised. We can try compelling them to convince them to bring us water.”
Logan nods and scans the deck. “Gather anything they can reasonably carry that can hold water.”
We scour the boat for anything that can hold liquid, finding everything from water bladders, leather flasks, an old wine skin that smells of vinegar, and even a couple of glass bottles that survived our crash landing.
“That’s everything.” Jade dumps the last of the containers onto a pile on the deck.
Logan gathers an armful of the bladders and flasks. “We’ll toss these onto the beach. They’ll fill them at the spring and bring them back to the waterline.”
Once all the supplies are nestled in the sand, Kieran wades forward until he’s standing at the water’s edge. His flames are burning brighter and hotter, the steel in them shimmering in the moonlight. “Immediately fill all of these with fresh water from the spring,” he says, his voice rich and musical in the way it always turns when witches use compulsion. “Do not put any lotus in it. Then return them to us here when they’re full.”
The woman at the front of the group blinks at him and tilts her head like a confused bird. “You should stay,” she says dreamily. “You don’t need water when you can eat the fruit.”
Kieran repeats the command, pushing harder. His heat signature strains, his temperature spikes with effort, and his flames turn blue in the center.
The Lotus Eaters just keep smiling those innocent smiles and watching us with those creepy glazed eyes.
Callie slowly pushes herself up, orange fire flaring from her fingertips. “Let me try,” she says, and she focuses on the woman, her brow furrowed with concentration, sweat running down her face. “Immediately fill all the containers with clean water. Don’t put any lotus in them, and bring the full containers back here straight afterward.”
The Lotus Eaters keep standing there, holding out their golden fruit, unaffected.
Jade tries next and fails, which isn’t surprising, given that fire’s far from her specialty.
I also try and fail.
“Logan.” Jade turns to look at him. “You try.”
Logan’s eyes harden, but Jade’s gaze stays locked on his, as if they’re in a standoff. Then he nods and moves to the water’s edge, his fire igniting in his palm and burning black at the edges.
“Immediately fill all these containers with fresh water from the spring.” His voice is layered and melodic, carrying across the beach. “Do not put any lotus in it. Bring the full containers back here as soon as you’re done.”
The woman at the front of the group blinks. Then, slowly, she places the fruit she’s holding on the sand.
“Fresh water from the spring,” she says, sounding more distant than before. “Yes. We can get you water.”
She moves forward and gathers several of the bladders in her arms. The others follow suit, collecting the remaining containers before turning and walking into the forest like sleepwalkers.
Logan watches them, his expression neutral, waiting until they’re gone before turning to face us with his black-edged fire burning in his hands.
“Kieran was right. The lotus weakened their defenses.” He looks between all of us, his voice confident and calming, laced with the same melodic tone from earlier. “It’s affecting all of you, too. Your minds are still recovering from the fruit’s influence. That’s why your compulsion attempts failed.”
I turn his hypothesis over in my mind.
The lotus has psychological effects. Impaired cognition would extend to weakened magical abilities, including compulsion.