An old man came and stood beside her, in a coat too heavy for the season, leaning on a stick he did not seem to need. “You’re Tamsin’s girl,” he said, and she had not told him her name.

He smelled of rain and of something older, like the inside of a church. Mara moved her bag to her other side.

The water was very dark and the sky was very dark and she felt very alone. Behind them the town had become a line of smoke, and then not even that.

The old man began to hum, low, something she almost knew.

An old man came and stood beside her, in a coat too heavy for the season, leaning on a stick he did not seem to need. “You’re Tamsin’s girl,” he said, and she had not told him her name.

He smelled of rain and of something older, like the inside of a church. Mara moved her bag to her other side.

The water was very dark and the sky was very dark and she felt very alone. Behind them the town had become a line of smoke, and then not even that.

The old man began to hum, low, something she almost knew.

The island had no harbour, only a stone ramp green with weed. The old man stepped off first and did not look back to see whether she followed.

“He’s a wizard,” the ferryman said, not quietly, “if you were wondering.”

Mara stood on the ramp with her bag and watched the ferry turn back for the mainland, its one light getting smaller.

The ferry left at six whether or not anyone was on it. Mara was. She sat on the bench by the rail with her bag between her feet and watched the harbour lights go out one at a time.

An old man came and stood beside her, in a coat too heavy for the season, leaning on a stick he did not seem to need. “You’re Tamsin’s girl,” he said, and she had not told him her name.

The water and the sky were the same dark. Behind her, the old man had begun to hum. The town was a line of smoke, and then not even that.