Fog Island: A terrifying thriller set in a modern-day cult. Mariette Lindstein

was bright colours. There were the lookout point and the cliffs plunging into the sea; the big woods and the harbour, where the boats looked like little toys.

      The wall curled around the manor like a white snake. The swans in the pond were two tiny white dots. The air was thin and she herself was ethereal and warm. Everything was moving in slow motion. The crowns of the trees blew gently in the wind and the sun was like a golden rain falling all over the landscape. She didn’t know how long it lasted. When she asked Olof later, he only shrugged. But when she returned to her room, her fear was gone. The darkness was gentle and comforting, like a warm bath.

       I saw! I saw without using my eyes!

      She knocked on the door.

      The light blinded her when Hurtig opened up, but she was only grateful that she didn’t have to look at his smile when she told him what had happened. She only heard him clapping his hands together and rubbing them, and laughing.

      ‘There you go, Sofia! You’re ready! You’ve achieved the final phenomenon of the fourth thesis.’

       *

      In the days that followed, everything felt different: a peculiar new calmness in her body. Harmony. Tranquillity. The very sensation she’d come to the island to find. To think that I’m always so worried, she thought. Consciously or unconsciously, it was always something she fretted about. The vague sense of panic that had been her constant companion had gone up in smoke.

      She completed the final phase of the program, a second winding-down, where you just sat in the classroom with your eyes closed for a little while each day. You were expected to practise drawing power from your memories, but she mostly sat there enjoying how good it all felt.

      On the third day, Hurtig approached and shook her shoulder, waking her from her reverie.

      ‘Franz wants to see you. Right away!’

      It sounded as if God Himself had called her to a summit.

      She knew where Oswald’s office was, but no one answered after a few knocks so she stepped inside. Entering his office was like stepping into a spaceship. There were no pictures on the walls, no flowers, not even a single photograph — there were only white walls with enormous windows that looked out over the sea. She could see the lookout point in the distance. The office was otherwise full of electronics: computers, printers, screens, and gadgets she didn’t even know the names of. It occurred to her that this was odd, given that computers were forbidden at ViaTerra, but perhaps computers were indispensable when you were the boss.

      Oswald himself was sitting at a large desk, absorbed in reading something on a computer. He didn’t look up when she came in. Madeleine, who was sitting at a much smaller desk in the far corner of the office, put a finger to her lips and gave Sofia a sharp look. Don’t disturb him, the look plainly said. Sofia cautiously took a seat in the visitor’s chair before Oswald.

      He was wearing a T-shirt again. She noticed that the muscles of his back were taut and wondered if he was tensing them on purpose. There was a strange gleam in his eyes when he swung around in his chair, as if he expected her to say something. But she didn’t know what. His presence was so strong that she lost her composure and couldn’t speak.

      ‘Sofia, congratulations! I heard you finished the program. I hope it all went well.’

      ‘It was fantastic. Better than I expected.’

      He drummed his fingers on the desk good-naturedly.

      ‘So, can I have your answer about the library now?’

      ‘Well, hmm, I’m interested, I just have to talk to everyone at home first.’

      He leaned forward, placing his hand over hers on the desk. It was dry and warm. Hers jumped at his touch, but she didn’t pull it away.

      ‘No, you don’t get time to think it over, Sofia.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘The thing is, I think you’ve already made up your mind,’ he said, pressing her hand ever so slightly.

      It was as if someone else were speaking through her. The words just fell from her mouth. She could see herself in profile, from outside her body as her mouth opened and the words slipped from her tongue.

      ‘Then I guess my answer is yes.’

      Her voice echoed back at her as if from a void.

       Oh my god. What have I gotten myself into?

      ‘You won’t regret it,’ he said, letting go of her hand and leaning back in his chair. ‘I’m sure you have things to take care of before you return, so just call Madeleine and let her know when you’ll be back.’

      Then he spun around in his chair and went back to reading.

      Madeleine shooed her from the office.

      She stood outside his door for a long time, at a loss, shaken over what had just happened.

       *

      There would be innumerable times, later in life, when she would search her mind. Why on earth? What got into me? How could I? She always came to the same conclusion: it was a combination of factors. A seductive, irresistible blend. The beautiful island, the breadth of luxury, the food, the sleep, the feelings left behind after the theses; but above all, and she would be ashamed of this and have trouble admitting it to herself, it was Oswald and his power of attraction. This wasn’t a sect or a cult; it was something completely different. Almost like a new world — a microscopic vision of the future, brought to life.

      ViaTerra was different.

      But hindsight is twenty-twenty.

      At the time, despite being disconcerted and sweaty all over, she still knew she had to come back to the island. Otherwise she would continue to be drawn there, like a moth to a flame.

      And as she stood there in the corridor, alternately kicking herself and feeling bursts of dizzying euphoria, she found that she had a ridiculous smile on her lips.

      We return to the cave several times.

      We watch the rain move in over the bay and whip at the sea.

      At night, we see the moon make a glittering path across the surface.

      The cave is my special place. I can think clearly here. I think about my plan almost constantly. I examine it from every angle, picking at its seams; it’s as if I’m spinning a net that will one day cover the whole island.

      Sometimes I’m so deep in thought that she shakes me for answers to her meaningless chatter. Then I wrestled her to the floor and grab her by the throat until her legs kick like crazy. A sign of her submission.

      I know now that I can’t take her with me. She’s too flighty, and besides I’ve already explored every corner of her body and she’s starting to feel like a milk carton, once the milk is gone.

      Although I will miss the cave.

      The power in its hard walls.

      You can see the whole universe from here.

      You can even see the future, like a mirage on the horizon.

6

      Her light-heartedness remained.

      The constant worry in the back of her head was gone. She’d heard of people who didn’t even know they had a headache until it went away, and that was exactly what this felt like. This is my real self, she thought. A week on this program and I feel like a new person.

      What’s more, she had become aware of an exciting mystique that affected the whole island but especially the manor. When she gazed up at the main building,