“Your Holiness,” Matias said, trying to mask his excitement by imbuing his voice with a tone of the most abject humility. “You have not yet informed me where I am to be assigned.”
The Bishop acted as if he was surprised, but he was not; he had left this piece of information for the last, deliberately.
“Do you know the island called Isla del Fuego?” the Bishop asked.
Matias’s throat contracted. “I do know it,” he answered, carefully. “I believe the natives call it by another name.”
Self’s novel-in-progress, Blue Water, Distant Shores, is 340 pages of conversations between the Bishop and Matias. And between Matias and his native guide, Diego. Oh, and a few letters. That is all.
Stay tuned.
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