With the setting of the sun had come a dropping in temperature, and with the dropping in temperature there had come the rise of a thin mist above the lapping waves of the sea.
They did not see the ruined tower as soon as they had expected to. It was not until they were close - far too close – they began to see the crooked stones rising through the wisps of the mist. Dark mounds of tumbled down stone, and then, beneath the water, fearsome fangs of jagged rock, pointed ready to shatter any ship that was foolish enough to come too close.
"You're meant to take it from the right," Harlen recalled. "Can you steer a ship, Swil?"
"Are you mocking me?" Swil said. He still hadn't forgotten the anger that he'd felt on the shore nearly half an hour ago. Harlen only grinned in reply, as Swil stormed off, to carry out the task that he'd been nominated for.
