Again the dive, again the streaking water, the rippling light, now and then a distorted silver wall that turned into a huge school of fish as she drew nearer. The sun arched up the sky, and Luce swam through gold-green beams, watching the ribbons of shadow that seemed to pour endlessly from her outstretched hands.

On and on, concentrating on the light-streaked space ahead of her. She’d almost succeeded, Luce told herself. She’d saved her father from his living death on that island, and soon he’d understand how much he still had to hope for.

Her daydreams still needled at her, prickling her with impossible hopes. It occurred to her, though, that even if her ideas weren’t crazy she still wouldn’t be able to tell her father to look for her near Dorian’s village. She’d never thought to ask the name.

∗ ∗ ∗

The sun wasn’t far above the horizon, and the air was tinted golden orange as they closed on the Aleutian chain. Luce could even make out a few pale, boxy shapes perched on the slope of a conical island ahead of her: almost certainly a small settlement. Her father would find other humans soon. They’d help him. When she stopped to grin back at her father now his excitement seemed genuine, without any of the hidden darkness Luce had noticed before. “My God, Luce! We’ve made it!”

Luce’s shoulders were killing her, her tail stiff and heavy with exhaustion. She paused and looked back at him, then swam to the raft.

They were close to safety, but that also meant they were close to saying goodbye. She could see in her father’s face that he might be thinking the same thing as he reached down and stroked her wet hair. “You did it, baby doll,” he whispered to her. “I thought I’d die in that place, but you saved me. I am so damned proud of you.”

Luce pressed her cheek against his hand. “You’re happy?”

“I’m real happy.” But again something grim showed on his face. “Just need to figure out what we can do about you now.”

Luce flinched. “You can’t worry about me . . .”

He needed to recover his hope, his sanity. Trying to raise a mermaid daughter couldn’t possibly help with that, Luce thought. Much as she hated the idea, it would be better for him to forget about her completely, at least unless the day came when she could walk up to him and . . . The look on his face was tense, distant.

“There’s something coming!” he hissed abruptly. “Luce, under the water!”