Hæra’s head made it back through the water wall, just in time to see the witch throw one hand upward: the one gripped by the man she’d loved. The whirlpool’s wild current shifted. It caught Hæra, lifting her higher even as it whipped her around, away from the stronger force at the base of the vortex and up toward the surface.

And then—suddenly—it let her go. It flung her from its embrace until she drifted limply in a slower current.

Blearily, she looked around to find herself on the whirlpool’s other side, far from where Beathag and Asgall had pursued her. A startled school of pollack swam away the instant her marine tail twitched.

Now she was alone, but her wounds still bled. Predators would catch the scent, and the last thing she needed was to become an orca feast. How far was she from shore? Hopefully not far. She was at the last of her strength. Her wounds would begin to heal soon, but it might not be soon enough.

Moving as carefully as she dared, she fought her way to the surface. Thank the Great Mare, the shore was in sight—but it was another side of the island. In fact, it was the stretch of beach where Hæra had first seen Sister Madeleine.

Had the witch known? Was this a seal on their pact?

Right now, she didn’t care. Hæra held back a groan—it would take too much energy—and swam for the shore. At this hour of night, it was empty. It seemed like an age before her front hooves grazed the seafloor, and then she had to fight against the waters that wanted to drag her back home.

This time, she didn’t bother with four legs. Her bleeding tail dragged against the rocks and sand as she lugged herself out of the water and, shaking with fatigue, concentrated one more time.

On the shore, beneath the moon, she lost consciousness as her human body collapsed. It, too, bled.

When she woke up, a harsh light shone down onto her face. It was like no sunshine Hæra had ever seen. The sky was gone; in its place was a white, flat surface from which the light glared.

She lay on something soft. Her left arm hurt; when she turned her head, painfully, she saw something sharp had been stuck in it, attached to a bag full of clear liquid. She was still naked, and a long piece of cloth covered her from her chest to her feet. Her entire body ached.

A ceiling above her. Walls around her. She was indoors, away from the sea, and weak. This was entirely the human world, and she’d swum right into its arms with no guarantee of welcome.