“So do you plan to sit there all night?” she asked.

“Until the tide goes down, yes,” said Jack.

“Which is at dawn, you know.”

He ignored her and the taunting invitation to join her in the water, holding his harp close. His gaze wandered up to the sky, seeking to read the time. But from the corner of his eye, he watched her as she continued to bob in the waves, waiting for him. And then she was gone, vanishing beneath the dark surface. Jack’s full attention returned to where she had been wading.

He waited for her to resurface, watching the mesmerizing roll of the sea. But Adaira remained beneath the water, and Jack panicked.

“Adaira,” he called to her, but the wind stole her name right from his mouth. “Adaira!”

There was no answer, no sign of her anywhere. Soon, his eyes ached from peeling the darkness and from the glimmer of waves. Half of him knew she was toying with him, but half of him was terrified a spirit had come to claim her and was holding her down beneath the surface.

He jumped into the water, one arm holding the instrument tight to his chest, the other searching frantically for her. His hand cut through the cold whirl of the tide. He knew as soon as their fingers entwined that she had been waiting for him, lurking like a patient predator. She had known he would come after her, and as he broke the surface with her, he was relieved and angry and a tiny bit amused.

He said nothing at first. The water dripped from his hair, and he glared when she smiled, when she laughed. His traitorous heart skipped at the sound.

“Go on,” he said. “Take delight in my surrender.”

“You should be thanking me. I just saved you from a long night perched on a rock.” She slipped her fingers from his and splashed him in the face as she swam away.

Jack reached to snag her ankle, but Adaira evaded him. He couldn’t catch her. She swam just ahead of him, leading him to the coastal path. After a moment, she turned to glide backwards, beholding his face.

“You’ve grown slow in the water, Jack.”

He said nothing, because the music for the spirits had drained him. Let her blame his weak swimming on the mainland.

He followed her to where the path cut up through the rocks. Adaira pulled herself from the sea, elegant despite her drenched clothes. Jack remained in the water, waiting for her to turn and look at him.

He extended his hand; he didn’t know if he was strong enough to climb out without her assistance. “Are you going to help me up?”

Adaira unwound her matted braid and laughed again. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”

She gave him a terrible idea. He almost smiled.