As the sun rose over the Eastern horizon, Ash saw what was meant by an approaching storm. Up ahead, storm clouds gathered in dark billows, growing thicker and more wooly with each passing minute. Herald twirled like a wind-chime in a blizzard, his warning ca-caw'sgetting louder and more frequent. All five riders leaned low over their bikes, streamlined by a shared sense of urgency.

They rode for the whole day without stopping to eat or even relieve themselves. The sun heated their leathers, turning them into a molten second-skin. They rode fast and by mid-afternoon, Ash could feel every bump and dip in the earth like a rubber boot flogging her backside.

Just when the journey became unbearable, the air thickened and cooled, carrying with it a tangy brine scent. If Ash listened carefully, she could hear a hollow echo up ahead like the sound of a cupped hand over an ear. The landscape evolved and soon they were weaving through shrubs, tyres making tracks in oatmeal top sand.

Over a ridge, around a rocky outcrop with shocks of purple flowers sprouting from its seams, across a pebbly plain of earth, there it was. Where the earth fell away, crumbling into a steep cascading cliff of burnt orange, a carpet of blue extended to the sky ...

The ocean.

Ash's body went rigid, the knuckles of her spine locked straight as a lamp post. Never, in her wildest dreams, did she think she'd see the ocean. It had always been a faraway fable in her mind, an elusive idea that existed only in the regurgitated stories passed from trader to miner to stall holder, to snoopy orphan on window-washing duty. But here was now, in all its terrifying vastness—a living, breathing monster, frothing and seething, flashing white, hungry teeth. Ash was reminded of the time she'd had her head stuffed in a toilet bowl and flushed over. For a split second, she'd made the mistake of opening her eyes to the turmoil and had almost thrown up into the rushing spinning chaos.

She felt the same way now, the need to shut her eyes, block out the opaqueness of colour which was blinding when compared to the homogeneous palate of the desert. There were no straight lines to guide her sight, no boxes to make sense of the patterns, no inertness to anchor her gaze as there had been in the city. Just fingers of sunlight splayed through blooming pumice clouds and crests of white like the manes of horses stampeding towards the craggy cliff face.

The horses drove head first into the craggy rock wall and exploded with a ripping, gnashing hiss that sounded too much like her name—Ash, Ash, Ash. Mist mingled with sunlight to birth little rainbows, the unlikely love children of rock and water.

They drove along the jagged cliff until they reached an angled nook in the rock which, to the casual onlooker might've seemed like nothing more than another crack in the facade. But Eli, Shorty, Gunner and Miki had other ideas. Slowing down, they carefully threaded their bikes along the nook, meeting a concealed track that led them down to a pebbled cove. As they descended, the temperature dropped to an uncomfortable chill and the wind quietened to a distant yowl.

Eli cut the engine, so all that could be heard was the sound of lapping waves. He hoisted himself off the bike and held out his hand to help her do the same. The gesture looked suspicious—a protruding angle that had locked itself into position almost by accident. So many years at the orphanage had taught her not to trust other people's hands, for who knew what suspicious substances they'd rubbed on their skin prior to the offering.

Out of habit, she ignored his offer of help in favour of a stiff-legged, ungainly dismount. Eli ran the hand through his hair and for a split second, Ash wondered if she'd offended him. But then she reminded herself how many times she'd leaned on Eli already. Far too many times. And she certainly didn't want him to start thinking she owed him anything.

So she concentrated on finding her own footing on the uneven pebble surface before chancing a look at their surrounds. When she did, she gasped. At the edge of the water, four beautiful boats rocked from side-to-side, masts waving in greeting. Their pistachio-shaped hulls branded with swirling patterns and lacquered so they shone like an extension of the water rolled like marbles in satin sheets. They were beautiful, decorative, a pleasure to the eyes, but they certainly didn't look like they'd be able to weather a storm.

Eli, Shorty, Gunner and Miki rolled the motorbikes down long gangplanks and positioned them inside the boats where the motors should've been. Shorty shouted orders. "Pin out. Red to red. Disengage the safety and—" The engines rumbled to life, churning the water at the bow of each boat. Shorty smiled and waved down at Ash. "All aboard."

She didn't move. Her feet were concreted to the beach. It seemed illogical to want to be anywhere but on solid ground where she knew it would support her weight and wasn't going to suddenly disappear beneath her. The idea of balancing on a coffin-shaped vessel atop an insurmountable amount of liquid just seemed like a stupid idea.

Eli came up beside her. "Shorty's an engineering genius." He said it in that bitten down way, barely moving his lips. "Built the bike engines to double as boat engines and each hull so they can be clipped into different formations depending on the conditions. Claims they're unsinkable."

She glanced at the boats again, this time noting how a wooden grid structure had been clipped across each railing so that the four hulls made a migrating skein. They looked more sturdy grouped together like that, battle-ready, as though they might just be able to weather a storm.

Eli passed her. "Coming?" She noticed he didn't proffer her his hand this time.

Not wanting him to think she was afraid, she followed him up the gangplank, wobbling as an incoming wave sucked and pulled beneath. Despite her preoccupation with staying upright, she noticed how Eli walked just close enough to reach out and catch her should she fall, and the gesture made her uneasy.

As soon as she was onboard, the gangplanks were removed and the engines were rip-corded into action. Eli showed her where to sit and hold the knotted handrail for safety. Beneath the rumbling, Ash thought she heard Miki say, "Psh. Unsinkable my ass."

Then, they were away, drawn backwards at first by an incoming wave before being carried onward by the power of the engine. Once they were out of the protection of the cove, the engines were cut and replaced with billowing silver sails which caught and dragged them into deeper water. At first Ash could do nothing but squeeze the ropes, grit her teeth and close her eyes against the misty spray that caught her eyelashes. But after a minute or two, realising she still hadn't drowned, she mustered the courage to look around.

The ocean rose and fell with the same hypnotic effect as the fire in Gigi's hut. Nobody spoke. Everyone was too absorbed in the rush of air on their faces, the taste of salt on their lips, the smell of fresh ions. Shorty's grin was so wide he could've caught fish in his teeth. Gunner leant back to watch the sky. Miki closed her eyes, spread her arms eagle wide and let the wind make a streamer of her hair. And then there was Eli.

Leaning against the mast of the boat, body an anchor, feet gripping the floor and arms tensed as though expecting danger at any moment, he was the only one who hadn't removed his leather jacket to feel the air on his skin. His eyes were on the horizon, glazed with some painful and intimate memory. Ash found herself tracing the scared lines of his face and wondering what kind of horror had put them there.

Realising she'd been staring, she forced herself to look away, at the seabirds flocking ashore and the way the light filtered from the sky like water through sand, leaving behind only copper hues behind. As the sea cooled, tiny spirals of mist lifted from its surface, the dust of water nymphs taking flight. Night spread over them like anaesthetic.

When her eyes drifted back to Eli, he was looking at her with a directness that said he knew exactly what she'd been thinking. She wanted to look away, to feign the same oblivious serenity she'd seen on Miki, Gunner and Shorty's faces, but found her eyes were stuck to those molten magnets.

It took a terrifying skreaaaaaahhhhhhfrom up above to break his gaze. Herald's cry was like a missile breaking the sound barrier, different from the ca-caw'sthat had come before it. He swooped down from the sky to land on Shorty's mast, feathers puffed so he appeared double his size. All four companions looked up at the sky, the bliss gone from their faces.

"Aught to cover our tracks at least," Gunner said.

Shorty, the only one whose grin hadn't wavered rubbed his hands together. "Get ready. She's about to put on quite a show."

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*~*

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