“Be still!” Sister Madeleine called from above. “I’m just trying to help you!” In a lower voice, she muttered, “You silly thing.”

Before Hæra could find some way to die of mortification, there came more tugs and more sharp sounds. With each tug, the pressure on her scalp lessened, and when a hunk of her mane dropped into the water, Hæra realized she was being cut free. Each-uisge lore told of human weapons that could slice through hide. Did Sister Madeleine have one of those?

The pressure on Hæra’s scalp suddenly released. With a splash, she fell below the surface as Sister Madeleine, somehow, freed her from the trap.

Oh, thank the Great Mare for her mercy! Hæra’s tail beat in relief, pushing her forward as she plunged deeper underwater. Time to go. This had officially been her last visit to the surface.

This mortifying episode was over for good, and nobody would ever have to know about it.

Oh, saints. Madeleine had killed the horse.

Somehow. She must have. The moment she’d cut its mane, she’d heard it go under the water without another sound, instead of splashing around as she would have expected. She’d thought that if the horse had swum under the dock, then it’d be able to swim out again. Horses could swim, couldn’t they? She’d seen them in movies and on TV, fording rivers and such.

But obviously this one couldn’t. Maybe it had been too tired. And she’d drowned the poor creature she’d only been trying to help. Why hadn’t she sought assistance instead of trying to solve the problem on her own? When would she ever learn?

There was nobody here to help now. She was all alone. Just her and her damnable pride.

“Hello? Horse?” The words escaped her before their own absurdity could stop them. Madeleine lunged for the opposite edge of the dock where the dinghy bobbed. Maybe if she got in the little boat and looked into the water she’d see the horse, although what she was supposed to do if she did, she had no idea. Throw it a rope? Pray for it? There was no time to go for help.

As it happened, she didn’t see anything, because a number of factors converged at once.

For one thing, she was using one hand to grapple for the flashlight. For another, the edge of the dock, which she grabbed with her other hand so she could peer down again, was slippery. For a third, she flung herself forward much too quickly and with her full body weight.

All of these factors combined into one hellish moment in which Madeleine tripped, fell, dropped the flashlight, smacked her head on the dinghy’s edge, and plummeted right into the water as everything went black.