In the meantime, Hæra was stuck with these islands and their pitifully small population. Calder was reluctant to lead the herd into new territory, saying they knew the rhythms of this place: when prey was most plentiful, where currents were fiercest. Besides, the more humans there were, the likelier the Each-uisge were to be sighted and hunted down.

But if Hæra risked nothing, she’d gain nothing. She just had to be clever. All Stormhorses should be. She wouldn’t put the herd in danger.

Today, she swam just beneath the surface at the foot of Jorsay’s great rocks and cliffs. Her tail was strong enough to keep her from being dashed against them.

Humans rarely swam in this part of the water. It was too rough by the rocks, and there were few places for them to find easy purchase if they got in trouble. Their weak little hands would slip and slide. Hæra took a risk and poked the top of her head above the surface so that only her ears and eyes would be visible, and she laid her ears flat.

Nobody in sight. Just cliffs and stones. But around the corner, the cliffs flattened out into a sandy beach that led up to the ruins of a human dwelling that dated back to the early tides of the herd itself. Farther up, she’d been told, were a bunch of tall rocks that humans seemed to find important.

She moved with the current: it was harder to be spotted that way. Besides, if she’d learned one thing, it was that many creatures—regardless of species—refused to see that which they believed to be impossible. If anyone spotted Hæra, they’d assume a land horse had wandered into the sea to drown, and she’d be gone before they could discover otherwise.

Of course, she could transform her tail into hind legs, and then she could walk about on land like one of the dumb, mindless beasts. But she didn’t look enough like them. Land horses were smaller, their coats were different colors, and their eyes weren’t bright yellow.

And they didn’t have sharp teeth, shell-lined hooves, or mouths that slavered at the hint of fresh meat.

One option remained. Hæra could do what her father had scorned and take on human form. It might be base trickery, it might be risky, but it was technically allowed.

It would also be a last resort for several reasons. Not just those of honor, but because Hæra would wander out of the ocean without a single human garment to cover herself and with precious little knowledge of their customs. She’d have to be truly desperate.

She was getting desperate.

Hæra swam around the edge of the cliff and paused. Two people stood on the sandy shore, all too close to her. She kept her head low.