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Across the horizon, the sun is close to setting. I’ve never been afraid of the dark before, but it’s never been combined with the void of an ocean beneath me. It is so very quiet except for the softly moving water breaking against my skin.

I want to scream. I want to look down, for fear of what else could be below me. I’d estimate that a good thirty feet of water waits between me and the ocean bottom.

Iamnotafraid.

Iwillnotbeafraid.

Iamwhatpeoplefear.

And then I see it. Far, far in the distance to my right. A stripe of green.

Land.

Those bastards sailed me out here, dumped my unconscious body overboard. What had they said? Something about putting me wherehecouldn’t find me? Well, I’m going to findhim.I’m going to findthem. They’re all going to pay.

For there is nothing I excel at more than vengeance.

I start to swim. One arm in front of the other, kicking my feet behind me. I push my limbs as fast as they will go, swimming as though something were chasing me.

After what feels like an hour but is surely no more than fifteen minutes, my limbs are too tired to move any farther. Too limp to even hold me up. I start to sink below the ocean’s surface. And somehow, I’m still breathing as though oxygen were flowing into my lungs normally.

It feels wrong. I’m wrong. Threydan did something to me, and he needs to fix it.

I focus on nothing but breathing as I hover in the space between air and seabed, waiting for my limbs to regain their strength.

Then I swim for the surface, find land once more, and start the process all over again.

IT IS VERY,VERYlate when I finally drag myself onto frozen, snow-covered ground.

I flip onto my back and stare up at the sky. Only a few stars poke between the cloud cover, but their presence is a welcome sight. Little pinpricks of light after I just spent hours hovering in the gloom of the open ocean.

I must fall asleep like that, for when I wake, my limbs feel sore and stiff from the hours of swimming. The sun is well overhead, not that it’s done much good for the landscape here.

When I try to stand, I find that I cannot move. Cannot so much as sit up.

I yank on my right arm, hear some sort of crack, and then finally feel the tension release. When I look to my arm, I note that it is covered in ice.

I’m frozen to the ground.

I should be dead three times over by now. From the water, from the cold, from the night exposed to the elements.

Yet here I am. Breathing, heart pounding, muscles sore.

Numb to everything except that sting on my cheek.

My left arm comes free next, then my legs. I have to wiggle in place for a couple of minutes before my back finally breaks free from the ground. I pat at myself as I stand, ensuring all my clothing is where it should be. The dagger I used to cut myself free is frozen into my clothing. Useless at the moment.

I try to get my bearings. There are snow-covered peaks in the distance. Evergreen trees dot the expanse in front of me. Purple flowers break through the frozen ground, flourishing where they shouldn’t, just like me now.

I’ve no idea where my camp and crew are. Dimella must be frantic with worry, but I trust her to keep everyone safe until I can find my way back to them.

I start walking.

My stomach grumbles for the want of food, but there is nothing I can do about that. My thirst is remedied by scooping up snow and letting it melt in my mouth before swallowing. I can’t feel the cold of it, so it’s very satisfying, if slow.

My eyes sting from all the salt water they’ve been exposed to. Burns and scrapes cover my fingers and wrists from tugging and clawing at the ropes as well as misplaced slices from the dagger as I sawed my way free.

My hair and skin are covered in frost. My clothing is frozen to my body. I wish I could remove the outer layers, since I don’t need them, but I don’t know how to get free of them without tearing my skin off.