What Answers

You walk out to the end of the breakwater instead, past the point where the stones are still dry. Whatever is holding its shape in the water doesn’t come any closer, and it doesn’t need to — it simply waits for you to be close enough, and you find you already are.

You don’t remember agreeing to anything. You do remember the clock striking the correct hour behind you, on time, for the first time in forty years — and Corwin, from the shore, not looking especially relieved.

You walk back into Blackwater Cove under your own power, and nothing about you looks any different. But the dockhand at the Gull and Anchor goes quiet when you order a drink, the way he went quiet about Penrose, and you find you already know why, the same way you already knew to come out here tonight.

The end.

• Play again from the start
• Explore the clue web instead