Luce had never imagined that she would see Nausicaa surprised so many times in a single night. “The images are fading! The sparkling around you, Dorian. It’s starting to dim. I know what that must mean. I’ve heard before of mermaids who could use their voices in this way. Why would I need Luce to tell me when I can read the signs for myself?”

Luce had wondered before, once or twice, if the indication around Dorian might be getting just a little weaker. Now, hearing Nausicaa say so, she knew it was true. She stared into the night above his head and saw the shimmer, still there but guttering like a candle. When she looked sideways Dorian’s mother winked in and out of focus, a powerless ghost, uncertainly waving the pillow that was still clutched in her hands.

Dorian met Luce’s eyes, and a wave of unspoken sorrow flowed between them. Luce’s heart felt raw and somehow bright, beaming with a vital pain that she couldn’t explain to herself. Of course, she told herself, all she’d wanted was for Dorian’s heartbreak to heal. Why should the knowledge that he was truly recovering hurt her so much?

“I don’t understand humans,” Nausicaa muttered. “Why should such simple truths cause so much distress?”

“You don’t understand more stuff than you realize, Nausicaa,” Dorian answered. But his voice was alive with tenderness as he said it, and Luce thought that he suddenly seemed much older than he ever had before. Even Nausicaa’s three thousand years clearly hadn’t taught her what Dorian seemed to have learned in the last few minutes. “Do you mind letting me and Luce have some time alone together now?”

“I’m glad it’s you Luce loves, I suppose,” Nausicaa said abruptly. “If she must . . .” But, Luce saw, her friend’s face was grim and sad as she torqued herself and swam away.

Then Luce was finally alone with Dorian in the star-streaked darkness. The rivulets of snow outlining all the roots above seemed to glow with a vehement diamond shine, blue-white and somehow terribly alert, as if all the world was watching them.

“Oh my God, Luce!” Dorian whispered. “There’s all this serious shit happening, and I need to tell you about it, but it’s been . . . it’s just been such a crazy night.”

Luce was already in his arms. His hands slid over her body, sensation moved in her skin like breath, and her tail began to thrash. For the first time he reached to pull the band of seaweed away from her breasts, and Luce writhed to press herself against his fingers. The kiss took her like a wave as warm as blood, and she felt as if she were tumbling inside it. Dorian fell back onto the beach, pulling her partway on top of him, and kissed her until her mouth filled with a strange, almost shivering heat.