Suddenly his lips were on hers, hovering so lightly that it was barely a kiss. Why couldn’t he just make up his mind how he felt about her, once and for all?

“I’ll meet you.” Then he was up and running again, the tarp flapping above his head, flinging loose streamers of water. Everything about him seemed so quick, so fluid, at least by human standards.

Luce was possessed by a sudden impulse, and she slashed deep underwater. There might be humans around the dock at this time of day, even in the rain, so she swept along in the low green regions where the light graded away and she could hide in the dimness. She didn’t start to slip closer to the surface until she sighted the gray blot of the rowboat just above her. Too many boats jostled overhead, and she could hear faint human voices; she wished Dorian would hurry. After several minutes his steps came urgently pounding along the planks, beats of vibration transmitting through the water and around Luce’s skin. She had trouble stifling a laugh as he caught the rope and the rowboat jarred closer to the dock; of course he never suspected that she was lurking just below.

Dorian thudded down into the boat, off-balance and out of breath, and untied the rope, absently letting it slide down into the sea. He started carefully turning around to settle in without tipping over. The next second the boat was whipping away from the dock so quickly that he almost tumbled backwards off the seat. Luce heard him yelp with surprise and laughed loudly enough for him to hear her. The rope was in her hand and her tail spiraled out, driving her through gray-green shade, through long pale streaks of bubbles, past pollock and the glassy reddish blots of jellyfish, and Luce noticed with sudden delight a sea otter that briefly tried to keep pace with her then danced away.

Behind her, Dorian whooped. They were going faster than any motorboat now, and Luce drove her tail harder, smiling at Dorian’s breathless laughter. He must be watching the cliffs jumbling by, the trees blurring blue-green, while his hands clenched hard on the boat’s rim. She rolled onto her back and streaked up to the surface just long enough to grin into his half-frightened, half-thrilled face, water slicing around her shoulders like a trailing dress. Then she vaulted herself up in a backwards arc, her long tail breaching and twisting in the air, brash with silvery lights. She just had time to hear Dorian crying out before she was under the waves and racing on again.