Part III
After that we had to learn to row without the guidance of the flute. Instead, we tuned our movements to the ones in front of us, envisioning their next stroke and the next, until we knew what they were going to do before they even knew themselves. And all the while the captain stood on deck, staring ahead like a man haunted.
The hardest part was tying up the captain. We begged him not to go through with this or to at least be like us, waxed up. But he insisted someone needed to hear, to listen, to break the spell and the one chosen, that special someone was him. So we bound him, as tight as he would let us. With a sense of foreboding, we settled behind our oars and made for the island. For a while, we laboured in silence, wood splashing on water, wood and water, but soon, rhythm set in. We forgot our surroundings, ourselves even, until we were nothing more than a movement, a many muscled machine.
< Part II
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