The last Stormhorse disappeared above the water. Hæra waited as long as she could bear it, pumped her tail, and propelled herself to the surface. Her head broke through the water just in time to see the final three Stormhorses transforming their marine tails into hind legs and hooves. Their mighty wings, fully formed, beat the air; around and above them, clouds began to swirl, menacing and dark.

Calder reached the clouds first and disappeared into them with one final flap of his wings. The moment he did, lightning flickered from within the cloud.

Hæra held back an eager groan. What must it be like up there? Her father, Alban, had said clouds were damp and cold. Did they also feel soft against your hide? And what was it like to feel the wind, to balance yourself on air currents?

What did freedom feel like?

Within moments, the Stormhorses disappeared completely into the clouds, heading toward the islands to the south. More lightning flashed and leapt from cloud to cloud: the Stormhorses speaking to one another without words in the language and fellowship only they knew.

Hæra could learn that language. She knew she could.

In the meantime, she’d seen what she’d come to see, and she’d better return before she was caught at the surface. The consequences for that would be…significant.

She sank below the surface and swam back the way she’d come. Silver fish scattered before her, tempting and plump, but she wasn’t hungry. As she went deeper, standing rocks rose to meet her; anemones and barnacles dotted their familiar surfaces. At the bottom, a stingray slowly swam just above the seabed, its flaps stirring up the sand.

Home again. Back to the dark waters where nothing exciting happened other than orca hunts or the occasional pursuit of a selkie foolish enough to venture out alone.

“Where were you?”

Hæra whirled, and bubbles swooshed around her. Her brother lurked by a great stone behind her, his red eyes gleaming. Her front hooves instinctively pawed forward as if to strike him.

Seeing this, Asgall only laughed.

Had he seen her surface? If he had, he wouldn’t hesitate to report it. Nothing would please him more than his own sister’s disgrace.

“I saw a promising school of fish,” she said. “But it wasn’t worth telling the herd about.”

“Especially now that the Stormhorses are gone,” Asgall agreed. “They’d want to partake of a feast, wouldn’t they?”

When it came to Asgall, going on the defensive was a bad idea. Over the turns, Hæra had learned to attack instead. “You know all about what Stormhorses want and don’t want,” she said. “That’s funny, isn’t it, since you’re not one?”

Ah, yes. There were his teeth: sharp and pearl pale, bared at her.