The concluding part of the captivating Sangreal trilogy from the author of Prospero's Children.

In the azure gloom he saw the island, not floating on the surface but moving through deep water, the rose-stained boulders swelling and shrinking like the bulb of a vast jellyfish. A skein of tentacles trailed behind it, fifty yards long or more. Something pale was tangled in their grasp, something that barely struggled now. He wrenched his thought away in horror, out of the sea, out of the dream, through the veils of sleep to his own world.

Like most young people, when Nathan Ward...