Of Disappearances and Dragons - Complete

Part 3

Finding a ship that was travelling to Arys Isle was harder than Finn expected. He had asked around and been laughed at more times than he could count in the last ten minutes. One sailor had even spat at his feet and pushed him away before Finn could finish his request.

He was running out of options. Perhaps he could swim across. The island was visible from where he stood so the distance couldn't be too far and he was a fair swimmer. Shielding his eyes from the sun Finn was just trying to gauge the distance and get an idea of the state of the sea when the smell of stale tobacco reached his nose and someone cleared their throat just behind him.

He turned around. Standing before him was a man with a wooden leg, wearing clothes that were so dirt encrusted it was hard to tell what colour they'd originally been and a look of annoyance on his face.

"It's 'bout time you got 'ere," he said. "Was just 'bout ready to leave without you and then you'd be stuck wouldn't you? I'm not back this way for nigh on a fortnight."

And with that he turned and made his slow, unsteady way down the pier.

Finn glanced around in case there was anyone else that the man may have been speaking to but he was alone. The man had passed four of the ships that had turned Finn down before realising that Finn wasn't following.

"Arys Isle," he called. "Not got all day you know. The name's Laris by the way."

Finn hurried after him. "You're going to Arys Isle?"

"That's what I said," replied the man, as he continued to walk. "And that's where you're trying to get to. She told me you were coming."

He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the town and Finn abruptly came to a halt. There was a cow standing in the shadow of The Hanged Man tavern and if he wasn't mistaken it was the cow from this morning. It stared at Finn and then turned and walked round the building and out of sight.

Laris was watching him impatiently again but Finn hesitated. He needed to get to Arys Isle but it seemed like his only option was the peculiar man who apparently spoke with cows and used them to spy on people. Well it wasn't a long journey and perhaps it would be good practice for the strangeness of the Isle. And after all what was the worst that could happen?

Finn closed the distance between them, saw the man's boat and seriously reconsidered his decision. The small rowing boat was riddled with holes. So many, in fact, that it was more hole than boat. Finn wasn't sure how it was staying afloat. The calm blue waters were clearly visible through the floor of the boat, a shoal of pilchards darted into view momentarily, but nothing seemed to enter the boat.

"Don't worry 'bout the holes," said Laris clambering into the boat somewhat awkwardly due to the wooden leg. "Charms are cheaper if you don't mind not getting the visual."

As Laris showed no signs of drowning Finn decided to brave it and follow him into the boat, settling himself gingerly on the bench out of the way. It was quite an unnerving experience as Laris began to row them out of the harbour but fascinating none the less to watch the water go by under his feet.

Away from the shelter of the harbour the sea the waves were a bit rougher, buffeting the little boat on Finn's side. Suddenly his lap was doused in cold water. Laris looked up at his curse.

"Ah yeah," he said sheepishly. "That one there by you is an actual hole."

Gritting his teeth Finn looked ahead to Arys Isle and tried his best to ignore the now regular sprays of water coming through the hole and soaking his legs. But he soon realised that the hole was of no consequence. The five foot waves coming over the side of the boat however were another matter entirely.

One moment they'd been rowing across a relatively calm sea under a blue sky and strong summer sun and then the next moment it was like they'd been transported to a completely different world.

Mist engulfed them hiding both Arys Isle and the mainland from view. A bitterly cold wind was picking up, snatching at their exposed skin with icy fingers, and the sea had turned into a broiling, frothing mass that seems to be doing its' best to sink their little boat completely.

Finn was only glad he hadn't tried to swim. Laris, however, seemed entirely unconcerned.

"Is this normal?" Finn asked, raising his voice to be heard over the tumultuous elements.

"Aye," replied Laris, rowing on.

Another wave hit, breaking over them with a rush of frigid salt water. Finn shook his head roughly to get his hair out of his eyes but didn't relinquish the tight hold he had on his pack. He wasn't sure if Archie had factored in these sorts of conditions when he'd cast his waterproofing charm on it a few months ago but a wet pack was better than no pack at all.

"And no," continued Laris after a moment. "Depends what you mean by normal. It all comes down to perspective really."

Well that didn't make things clearer to Finn at all. And he was astounded that Laris seemed as calm and relaxed as if they were doing nothing more than taking a pleasant stroll through a wood whereas Finn was feeling increasingly worried that his lunch was going to make a reappearance at any moment. If they didn't drown first that was. He clamped his mouth shut and tried to focus on taking slow, deep breaths.

His thoughts must have shown on his face as Laris, in a move that really didn't make Finn feel any better, dropped the oars with a laugh and patted him on the back.

"Don't worry. It won't last much longer."

Finn grimaced but didn't respond.

The next ten minutes were the longest that Finn had ever experienced. Every time they were thrown into the air by a wave his stomach lurched until he really was sick over the side of the boat and every time they were dropped back down he was convinced that it was going to be too much for the boat and it would fall apart underneath them.

Eventually, cold, wet through and miserable he hunched over his pack and buried his face in his arms, praying to all the gods he knew for it to be over soon.