Chapter 1Lyming, Scotland
The ferryman was dead.
There was no doubt about it. The fellow had no pulse. His skin was like ice. His pupils were dilated, his eyes glassy and staring. Reilly Stanton didn't need a medical license to tell him that this man was no longer among the living.
But Reilly wasn't the one who needed convincing. It was the wizened fisherman stooped over beside him who seemed to be suffering from some doubts.
"What's ailing him, then?" the old man asked, his breath turning instantly to steam in the cold winter air.
"Aye." The fisherman's question was echoed by...