Dell pointed where a sheet of white fabric billowed across the gently bobbing waters, a stark contrast to the bleak depths of the lake. Bubbles popped and fizzled around its ragged edges as if it had been propelled to the surface and might sink again once the oxygen saturating it dissipated.

Taking the opportunity to step away from Graeson, I walked until the water licked the toes of my boots and gritted my teeth to keep the past at bay.

He grasped my wrist and held tight, a reminder our conversation wasn’t finished. “Is that…?” He snapped his fingers at the wargs closest to us. “Boots off. I want whatever that is retrieved.”

The female warg hit the water. She stalled out mid-stroke when she got near enough to touch the opaque spot. “It’s just cloth.” She lifted it over her head then let it slap the surface.

My head fell back on my neck. I searched the sky for signs, for hope, but it was as cruel in its indifference as always.

A wet explosion jerked my head forward as a massive sphere jettisoned into the air, clearing the water by several feet before it dropped like a stone, slapping the surface and settling in to rock on the waves its eruption had caused. Two figures huddled in its center, one curled in the bottom while the other sat upright. I glimpsed bright pink hair splayed beneath the resting figure, and my heart soared.

“It’s Harlow.” I wriggled away from Graeson and ran down the dock to its end. The murky depths below spun vertigo in my ears, and I wobbled, but I managed to stay on my feet. I cupped my hands around my mouth and called to the warg, “She’s with us. Bring her in.”

The female hesitated until Graeson threw his weight behind the order. “You heard her. Get them to dry land.”

Two more males dove into the water. The female circled the bubble while smoothing her hands along its sides. Whatever type of magic had constructed it, it was solid. Together the wargs rolled the bubble safely to the shore. I ran back toward them and leapt, meeting the soaked wargs in the damp sand. Inside the strange sphere a petite girl sat with her legs crossed. She wore a pair of blue panties, a matching training bra and one sock. Harlow curved around her, her head resting on the girl’s tiny lap while she stroked the pink strands as though soothing them both.

Relief wilted the girl when she spotted the mutilated kelpie. Tears sprang to her eyes, and her protective grip tightened on Harlow.

“Roni,” I said, voice thick with emotion.

The girl’s head jerked toward me. “Who are you?”