Luce was worried at first that having Nausicaa around would make it impossible for her to visit Dorian. But immediately it became apparent that, even if Nausicaa regarded Luce as a friend, she tended to be restless and to prefer her own company most of the time. She was used to traveling alone. Nausicaa told Luce about her trick for hitching rides on huge ships: she’d either steal or find a life preserver and lash it to a ship’s hull at the waterline in a spot where the curve of the ship would hide her from anyone who happened to peer overboard. By tying her body into the life preserver she could keep her tail submerged and her head above water, watching through the days and sleeping through the nights. She’d crossed entire oceans that way, back and forth, freeing herself from the coast-bound life of the other mermaids. It all sounded insanely dangerous to Luce: what if a shark or an orca came at her while she was sleeping? What if someone in a passing boat saw her there? But it was clear that Nausicaa simply didn’t care much about danger, and Luce didn’t want to annoy her by arguing.

The day after Luce rescued her, Nausicaa began to fidget, then announced that she was going exploring. It was getting to be the middle of the afternoon, almost time to meet Dorian, so Luce only smiled, trying to disguise her relief. “Are you going to come back tonight?”

“I may.” Nausicaa glanced over at her with moody interest. “Perhaps where you are is a place something will happen.” Luce didn’t know whether to be flattered or hurt. She couldn’t escape the sense that Nausicaa regarded her as a kind of experiment, something that might or might not turn out well. Luce watched Nausicaa swim slowly out through the purple bands of oncoming dusk; evening came so early now. She was heading into deep waters, completely ignoring Luce’s warnings about orcas.

Dorian might be angry with her for leaving him so abruptly the day before. But once she explained what had happened, he’d have to understand. Wouldn’t he?

The daylight lasted for a noticeably briefer period every day, and the dusk dragged on for what seemed like hours, descending a slow scale of darkening tones. Luce arrived at their beach in the deep blue slur of fading afternoon. The beach looked empty, but Dorian often waited back under the trees. Luce gazed around and let out a quick windy call before she remembered that he might not understand it.