It was a Greater Drowned that responded, bigger than Xessa, with the characteristic dark vertical band down both sides of its throat. They were much rarer than the lesser variety, which they appeared to dominate. Xessa merely adjusted her strategy, her mind very cold, very sharp. She had wanted one of the smaller ones; she’d got this. So be it.

It drifted towards the steep bank and beckoned to her. The corners of Xessa’s mouth turned up in a snarl. She raised the hand holding the net and beckoned back. The Drowned stilled in the water, its head on one side in much the same way Ossa looked at her when he was confused or playful. Or unsure. Xessa beckoned again.

The Drowned leapt out of the river, its powerful legs springing off the riverbed and propelling it onto the bank, where it paused, considering. Its throat sac bulged and then deflated, as if it knew its song held no power over her.

Ossa was stalking it from the other side, his hackles raised and one ear turned towards the river in case there were more.

Xessa let her spear hang point-down, unthreatening, in clear violation of every lesson she’d ever been taught. The Drowned skittered towards her on hands and feet, sideways like a crab, its head swaying on its long neck. Curious. Almost birdlike. She’d never seen behaviour like it, but the knowledge slid off her and left no impression. Smoke in the wind, there and gone.

A little closer and Xessa clicked her tongue three times. The dog stopped moving; the Drowned rose a little higher on its back legs. Its throat sac bulged and then deflated; had it imitated her? She didn’t care.

Come on. Come on.

Xessa rested the spear against her chest and extended her empty hand. The Drowned copied her, its own hand turning palm up as hers did. She stopped breathing. She blinked the sweat from her eyes. She watched death watching her. And she snapped her fingers.

Ossa erupted into motion, streaking towards the Drowned, and it reacted, spinning on those long, muscular legs to face the dog. Her dog. Her Ossa, who obeyed his training even though she was sending him to die. But she needed to draw its attention away.

Xessa flung the net underhand, the cord wrapped around her wrist. It unfurled in the air, the tiny pebbles tied to its edges spinning it wide and bringing it down over the Drowned’s head and shoulders. The eja raced after it, spear reversed in her left hand. She whistle-clicked to put Ossa into stalk, not attack, but it mustn’t have come out right because he kept running for the thrashing Drowned.