'We have seen armies before, where none existed.' Melcorka joined Bradan at the oars, sending Catriona surging forward. 'That man could be an illusion, a trick of the mind, a conjurer's image and so could the island.'
'As you wish.' Securing the sail in place, Bradan hauled as hard as he was able, grunting with effort. Catriona thrust into the sea, her sharp prow raising a bow-wave, and then she rammed hard onto the sand.
Melcorka gasped as the impact threw her backwards. Bradan tumbled on top of her and the oars were thrown into utter confusion.
'That feels solid enough.' Melcorka dragged herself up, feeling for broken bones.
'The island is unaltered.' Bradan pointed to the copse of trees, where the man sat, unmoving, watching them.
'What do you want?' Melcorka shouted. 'What do you
