“There it is. Stark volcanic rock and your home for the next . . . ” Eben West took a moment to think. “How long are you staying?”
Elias shrugged miserably. “Until my job is done, I suppose.”
“Well, at least the weather is warmer than Salem. That’s about all there is to be said for Port Louis. That, and brushing up on your French.”
When Eben West clapped his hand on Elias’s shoulder and moved toward the quarterdeck, Elias allowed himself a moment of self-pity. He couldn’t see much of the shoreline yet, but he spotted cloud-covered volcanic peaks proudly thrusting into the sky. Humid air, thick with moisture, pressed into Elias’s lungs.
He held up a spyglass to get a closer look at his new home. It appeared valleys existed between the cliffs. For some reason, he found that comforting, as if they would offer respite from the glaring sun on the shoreline, which was both sparsely and densely covered with warehouses and official buildings.
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