Ethan surfaced right behind Blackie, water sliding off his shoulders as he took in the scene ahead of them. Blackie was not moving. He hovered there, completely still, eyes locked on the island at the center of the lake. His expression was focused, serious in a way that felt deeply wrong on him. Blackie was never serious. That alone set off alarms.
"What's up?" Ethan asked, following his line of sight.
The moment his gaze settled on the lland, that familiar pull stirred again, the same sensation he had felt the instant he stepped into the Extreme South. A strange, inexplicable summons, a wordless call tugging at something deep inside him.
"That thing over there," Blackie said slowly, eyes flickering once, then again. "Something's calling me."
Ethan's focus sharpened instantly. "Calling you?"
