The rest of Eduard’s afternoon was spent storming around the house, raging at the servants who got in his way. Marien was right, of course—she was always right. As long as the original letter existed, their life in Java was in jeopardy. Kicking open the door that led out onto the veranda, Eduard strode the length of the house to lean on the railing and stared out at the horizon. Their land was situated on a higher ridge just outside the small port town of Anjer—through the trees, Eduard had a clear view of the shoreline a few miles away and, beyond that, the constantly churning waters of the ocean. In the center of his line of vision rose the hulking mountain the natives called Krakatao, a grumbling island they believed inhabited by the fiery god Orang Alijeh, the mysterious deity blamed f
