Arrow's favorite place on the island was the tallest hill. He'd walk up there, inventing stories and grand adventures for himself that he couldn't share with anyone. His friends' idea of an “adventure” was a trip to the West Village. That wasn't an adventure, that was visiting the neighbors. Arrow wanted to sail the oceans, slay monsters, and rescue damsels. He wasn't quite sure what a damsel was. Someone in the East Village told him it was a kind of fly, but that didn't seem right, going on adventures and rescuing little flies.
There were no adventures on the island. The seasons changed and the crops rotated and Arrow helped out with the necessary chores because they were important, but while it was hard work, it still wasn't an adventure. Arrow would often climb the hill and sit under the windmill when nobody was using it, looking at the clouds, naming the ones that looked like animals and talking to the ones that looked like people.
One day, when Arrow was fifteen years old, he was looking at a cloud the shape of a three-headed monkey when a gentle breeze kicked up and he heard a strange sound. All thoughts of the monkey left him as he sat up, straining his ears.
“Hello?” he asked, wondering if he had imagined it. There was no answer and he shook his head to clear it. Arrow lay back on the soft grass and then heard the sound again. This time it was much more distinct.
It was a girl's laughter.
Arrow jumped and spun around trying to find the source of the voice. He stopped when he got too dizzy, and staggered a few steps before putting a hand on the windmill to steady himself.
At this, the laughter increased.
“It's not funny!” Arrow shouted, his eyes flashing with embarrassment.
“Oh, don't be mad,” the girl's voice said. “I didn't mean to bother you. I was just passing by and wanted to see what your little island was like.”
“Hey!” Arrow protested. “It's not a little island!”
“Do you really think so?”
“It's the biggest island I've ever been on,” Arrow said, and it was the truth.
“I've been to hundreds,” the girl teased.
“Hundreds!?” Arrow tried to wrap his mind around the idea. The world must've been pretty big if there were hundreds of islands like his.
“They're not all like this one,” the girl went on. “Some are flat and sandy with palm trees, some are gray and rocky with seagulls living on them, and some are really big with volcanoes that erupt and shoot hot lava into the sky.”
“Yeah, well, I bet they aren't as nice as mine,” Arrow puffed up proudly.
“Don't be mad,” the girl apologized. “Your island is very nice indeed. I like visiting it.”
“Thank you,” Arrow said, trying not to sound too proud after successfully defending his island's honor. “Where are you?”
“Well...I'm over here,” the girl said in a whisper behind his ear. He whirled around only to see nobody. “Now I'm over here,” she said, her voice coming from a scraggly bush. “And now I'm all the way over here,” she continued from behind the windmill.
Arrow ran over to where the voice was supposed to be, but again, only found air.
“Are...are you a ghost?” he asked, wondering if he should be scared.
“No, silly,” the girl laughed. “I'm right here.” Her laughter swirled around him. A gentle breeze moved across his hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you,” the girl said, mock-seriously. “What is your name?”
“What are you doing?” Arrow asked.
“I just shook your hand. Isn't that what grownups do when they meet?”
“No you didn't. That was just the breeze.”
“Like I said, I just shook your hand.”
Realization hit Arrow. “You're the wind?”
“Right now I am, yes. My name's Ginnea. What's yours?”
“Uhm, it's Arrow. Nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand and the breeze rolled over it again. “I'm a boy,” he added in case she didn't know.
“I'm not actually the wind,” Ginnea laughed. “I'm just...borrowing it so I can do some sightseeing on my journey.”
“Really??” Arrow asked. “How??” It was as though someone had looked into his head and read his most secret wish: to soar around the world like a cloud and see everything.
“It's something my family knows how to do,” Ginnea whispered conspiratorially. “Everyone knows princesses can do magic.”
Arrow tried to hide an “Ooo” of admiration. “Can I learn it too?” he asked.
“Be my friend and maybe I can teach you.”
Arrow didn't have to think about it before he agreed. Who was this strange invisible girl who could run on the winds and laughed like bells when she told him about places he'd never dreamed of? He'd never met anyone like her, that was sure. He was glad he did though, since she told him incredible stories about places she'd been and things she'd seen. They talked for a long time that first day, but eventually Ginnea had to leave, but she promised to come back soon.
Arrow waited impatiently for several days. There wasn't much wind for the next two, then a terrible storm came up that rattled the walls of all the buildings on the island. Arrow waited on the hill every day when he didn't have anything else to do.
One day, about a week later, Arrow was up on the hill watching the clouds and wondering what Ginnea looked like. He wasn't sure he would ever meet her face to face, and that disappointed him. He hoped she was pretty. She didn't sound ugly.
“Hey, silly!” her voice said. “Did you miss me?”
“N-not really,” Arrow lied, standing up. “I thought you had other islands to visit.”
“Oh I did,” Ginnea said. “And not just islands. Deserts too, where there isn't a drop of water for miles, just sand and sand and sand.”
“What?” Arrow snorted. “A place where you've got sand instead of the sea? That's crazy,” he laughed.
“It's true!” Ginnea pouted. “I'd show you if I could.”
“Eh,” Arrow said, kicking at a rock.
“I can show you something else. Come on, this way!” Ginnea said, whooshing down the hill and calling up to him excitedly. Arrow ran down after the sound of her voice, trying to keep up.
They stopped at a small hillock overlooking the sea.
There was a ship at the dock unlike any Arrow had ever seen before; a single-masted holk whose forecastle towered over the three cogs that were docked nearby. It was so big that both villages would be afire with gossip and rumors about its arrival.
Arrow stared in wonder as sailors descended from the ship and spoke with the flabbergasted dockmaster. After some heated arm-waving on both sides, money changed hands. Some sailors returned to the ship, others went into the West Village where they would likely get drunk like all the other sailors Arrow had ever seen on leave.
“Wow,” Arrow whispered.
“Do you like it?” Ginnea asked.
“I've only ever heard of ships like that.”
“It's mine.”
“Yours?” Arrow was stunned.
“Not mine...exactly,” she corrected. “My father owns it. Those are his men.”
“Are...are you onboard?” Arrow asked before he could reconsider.
“Yes.”
“That's fantastic! When are you coming ashore?”
“I'm...not,” Ginnea sighed. “I'm forbidden to leave my quarters.”
“Why?! You're a princess!”
“I'm on my way to be married. It's bad luck, my father says, to tempt me away from my betrothed.”
Arrow scratched his head. “Where are you going?”
“The Island of Bones.”
Arrow drew in a sharp breath. “The Island of Bones moves around the ocean and the sailors say nothing can live on the island at night. What kind of monster rules that place? What kind of monster is your father for doing that to you!?”
“I have to do this. My kingdom is plagued by the worst famine we've ever had. Thousands are starving or getting sick from eating bad food. My father didn't know what to do until an envoy arrived from the King of Bones with an offer. The King would help if he received a bride trained in magic.”
“And since you can ride the winds...” Arrow said. “But can't you just escape on the wind?”
“I can only ride them with my mind,” Ginnea sighed. “Besides, I have a duty to my father and people.”
“Where is the Island of Bones supposed to be?” Arrow asked.
“A week's sail from here to the West, they tell me. We leave in the morning.”
“Then I'll help you.”
“How?”
“I'll think of a plan.”
The plan was, Arrow would admit later, very flawed. The holk was docked near a short but steep cliff. The idea was to climb down to the ship and sneak aboard. He didn't realize how steep the cliff was or how dangerously short the rope was. Dangling in the air with a third of the way to go brought the flaws in the plan into sharp focus.
Arrow turned helplessly in the air as he watched the holk raise anchor and pull away from the dock.
And then he realized his knot tying skills needed practice. The rope jerked down once before giving way.
Time crystallized around Arrow. He looked up to see the other half of the rope retreating away from him along with the top of the cliff. Completely unaware of the rushing air around him, all Arrow could think of with a foolish grin was how he was finally flying.
“Look at me, Ginnea,” he thought. “I'm flying, just like you.”
The rear of the holk was close enough that Arrow could see into the windows. He caught a glimpse of a girl pale with loneliness. Or was she sick?
“Ginnea!?” Arrow tried to shout, but the wind pushed the words back into his throat.
The impact of the water knocked all sense out of him.
When Arrow came to, he was aware of the hard wooden surface beneath him and the wetness of his clothes. He blinked his eyes and saw a round face smiling down at him.
“We don't think that's the best way to go fishing,” the face said.
Arrow sat up. He was on the deck of a ship. For a second he wondered if it was Ginnea's, but the smaller size told him otherwise. The face was attached to a slightly heavyset older man wearing an undyed wool robe.
“So have you added to your flock, Pilgrim?” another face asked. This was bearded and leathery from a life at sea.
“There is always a chance, Captain. We think he's counting his blessings right now.”
“Where am I? What's going on? Where's Ginnea?” Arrow stammered.
“This cog is the Oaken Dream, out of Priceport. That is captain Skollen, and we are a simple pilgrim. We fished you out of the sea and convinced the captain not to serve you at his table with the rest of the fish. As for Ginnea, we have no idea who that is.”
“She's in danger! I have to help her! Her ship was leaving port and I tried to get aboard, but...”
“Your girl was on that holk?” Captain Skollen scratched his beard. “Better to leave it alone. There's an ill-wind around it.”
“That's why I have to save her!”
“Where is it bound, if you don't mind us asking?” the Pilgrim interrupted.
Arrow took a deep breath. “The...the Isle of Bones.”
The Captain's eyes widened, but he kept his composure. “You're as mad as the Pilgrim,” was all he said before returning to the helm.
“It seems we are bound to help each other,” the Pilgrim smiled gently. “For that is where we are going as well.”