The surface might be forbidden to most Each-uisge , but rules proved their worth by how easy they were to break.

Besides, there was no other practical way to find a human to drown and eat, even if they were fishing on a boat in the middle of the water.

The ones underwater always wore rubbery coverings and traveled in groups.

Haera had only dared to swim near the land a few times, close enough to overhear humans’ voices, and she had yet to see a suitable candidate there.

She couldn’t just kill any old sack of flesh wandering about the place.

Haera needed someone deserving.

Someone strong, clever, and brave.

Only the consumption of such a human would give her the power that would make her worthy to become a Stormhorse.

She’d been looking for so many turns and countless tides, but her movements were hampered.

The herd lingered around the islands of the North Sea, where there were fewer people relative to other human settlements—or so Haera had heard.

Her father, Alban, had told her about flying over larger groups of humans, what he had called “cities,” raining fury from his wings.

“There can be much to admire when it comes to the best of them,” he’d told Haera and Asgall once.

“My human was a sea captain who guided his ship through our waters fearlessly. His ship survived one of our greatest storms, and the Sire returned and said he’d found me a suitable challenge.”

“What happened?” Asgall asked.

“How did you take him?”

“Because he was intelligent, he was curious. It didn’t take much to lure him into the water late one night. He lowered himself into one of their little boats and rowed out toward the sound of my voice—and he brought a knife with him. When I overturned his boat…ah, that was a fight to remember. I still have the scar on my chest.”

Haera had often wondered how her father came by the scar.

“Were you afraid?”

“In that moment, I feared nothing. I felt I was finally becoming myself as we struggled—I knew it was my destiny. You can never simply reach out and seize them, you know,” he’d added to Asgall in a lecturing tone.

“You have to lure them. They must desire to come to you, and then the battle begins. Remember, eat everything but the liver.”

“Why not the liver?” Haera said.

“Tradition. Something of the struggle must remain behind. It floats to the surface afterward.”

“Did you take a human form to lure him?” Asgall asked eagerly.

Alban shook his head, his splendid black mane drifting in the water.

“That’s one way to deceive them, but I consider it the basest. Besides, they keep developing weapons and devices that make it more difficult. Such weapons make our victories more glorious—but it grows increasingly likely that we would expose our existence to them, and thus it’s not worth the risk.”

That made sense.

Her father had told them that Each-uisge, selkies, and other unseen creatures were known to humans through legends and stories of their past exploits.

But stories and proof were different things.

Humans could hunt the herd easily now, and they would be doubly likely to if they saw a horselike creature shapeshift.

Alban continued, “Unfortunately, like all unseen creatures, our race is tied to the humans we’re near to. We can speak their language. We can take their forms—but none other. And nothing but a human, my son, can make you a Stormhorse. Why this should have pleased the Great Mare and Stallion, I don’t know. But I can’t deny that the best ones put up a fight worth winning.”

Haera and Asgall bobbed their heads in understanding.

After a curiously long pause, Alban added: “I find much to admire in some humans, truthfully. There are times I don’t wonder if we’re too judgmental of them and their ways.”

She and Asgall hadn’t known how to respond, so they’d said nothing.

You weren’t supposed to voice that sort of thing, ever.

At least not out loud.

“But the penalty for anyone but a Stormhorse going to the surface is a beating at best, and banishment from the herd at worst,” Alban said briskly.

“And the closer you venture to the shore, the more severe the penalty. Don’t forget.”

He’d looked at Haera pointedly.

In spite of his words, because of his fondness for her curiosity, he’d taken her on one secret trip to the surface—one of her most treasured memories.

She’d heard this warning before.

“Yes, Father,” she’d said obediently.

That had been long ago.

Now, Alban was gone, and so were the wooden ships his captain had sailed.

More and more people had left the islands.

Haera had fewer options, especially because she had to be so cautious about going to the surface: to avoid not just humans’ eyes but those of her herd as well.

Thanks to her caution, time was running out.

It would be easy to despair.

No. The Great Mare of the Depths would heed Haera’s call, even if the Great Stallion ignored it.

She must hear the justice of it.

In the meantime, Haera was stuck with these islands and their pitifully small population.

Calder was reluctant to lead the herd into new territory, saying they knew the rhythms of this place: when prey was most plentiful, where currents were fiercest. Besides, the more humans there were, the likelier the Each-uisge were to be sighted and hunted down.

But if Haera risked nothing, she’d gain nothing.

She just had to be clever.

All Stormhorses should be.

She wouldn’t put the herd in danger.

Today, she swam just beneath the surface at the foot of Jorsay’s great rocks and cliffs.

Her tail was strong enough to keep her from being dashed against them.

Humans rarely swam in this part of the water.

It was too rough by the rocks, and there were few places for them to find easy purchase if they got in trouble.

Their weak little hands would slip and slide.

Haera took a risk and poked the top of her head above the surface so that only her ears and eyes would be visible, and she laid her ears flat.

Nobody in sight. Just cliffs and stones.

But around the corner, the cliffs flattened out into a sandy beach that led up to the ruins of a human dwelling that dated back to the early tides of the herd itself.

Farther up, she’d been told, were a bunch of tall rocks that humans seemed to find important.

She moved with the current: it was harder to be spotted that way.

Besides, if she’d learned one thing, it was that many creatures—regardless of species—refused to see that which they believed to be impossible.

If anyone spotted Haera, they’d assume a land horse had wandered into the sea to drown, and she’d be gone before they could discover otherwise.

Of course, she could transform her tail into hind legs, and then she could walk about on land like one of the dumb, mindless beasts.

But she didn’t look enough like them.

Land horses were smaller, their coats were different colors, and their eyes weren’t bright yellow.

And they didn’t have sharp teeth, shell-lined hooves, or mouths that slavered at the hint of fresh meat.

One option remained.

Haera could do what her father had scorned and take on human form.

It might be base trickery, it might be risky, but it was technically allowed.

It would also be a last resort for several reasons.

Not just those of honor, but because Haera would wander out of the ocean without a single human garment to cover herself and with precious little knowledge of their customs. She’d have to be truly desperate.

She was getting desperate.

Haera swam around the edge of the cliff and paused.

Two people stood on the sandy shore, all too close to her.

She kept her head low.

They were both human females.

One was considerably taller than the other, who appeared to be a juvenile.

Haera snorted in disgust, water bubbling around her nostrils.

Another wasted trip.

No Stormhorse had ever taken a female.

They weren’t strong or clever enough.

Then again…no Stormhorse had ever been a female either, and didn’t the supposed reasons for that use the same sharkshite excuses?

That fillies and mares weren’t strong, clever, or brave enough?

Asgall was male, strong, and swift: all things that should have guaranteed his success.

Nobody had thought for a moment that her brother would fail at catching a human, and yet he had.

To this day, he refused to speak of it—Haera had no idea who his human had been or what had happened.

But his sex hadn’t ensured his victory.

Perhaps it was foolish to fall into that same error concerning her prey.

Haera might have ignored promising potential victims. She snorted again, but her disgust was only for herself.

Hewing close to the rocks, she swam closer.

The females were near to this part of the shore.

She wouldn’t have to swim in too far and risk exposing herself.

She could hear them.

The waves were loud, but sound carried to an Each-uisge wherever water might be found, if they were close enough.

It made them dreaded hunters.

The younger female was speaking.

She had yellow hair that was pulled back from her face.

The elder’s hair was hidden beneath a black piece of cloth.

“…something you wanted to speak to me about, Ava?” the taller one asked.

“Yes, Sister,” Ava said.

“I saw you speaking with Sister Agnes, and it just reminded me how much I’ve wanted to ask you about something that’s been weighing on my mind.”

As Haera watched, the woman in black lifted her chin.

“Oh yes?”

“Yes. Um, this is weird to say out loud, but I’ve been wondering if I have a calling.”

A calling?

What was calling to the young one?

Haera heard nothing other than the waves and the females’ voices.

“I see,” the taller one said.

“I wanted to talk to you because it was a more recent decision for you, you know? No disrespect to Sister Agnes, it’s just that she’s a lot…older.”

The taller woman laughed.

It was a low, husky sound, not displeasing.

“I can’t deny that, and neither would Sister Agnes. Most of the sisters are much older than I am.”

Haera’s tail swished in confusion, momentarily pulling her against the current.

So these two females were sisters, and they spoke of having more sisters?

They must be part of a large herd.

“That’s something else to think about,” the taller one continued.

She and Ava began to walk again, moving toward the rocks that barely concealed Haera.

“Few women want to be nuns today. Our average age worldwide is almost eighty years old, did you know that?”

“I might have guessed,” Ava said.

Unlike her companion, she wore brightly colored clothing, along with a long piece of gray cloth wrapped around her neck.

She’d be easier to seize in the water, if it came to that.

If she was worthy.

She didn’t look very strong, though.

Neither of them did.

This was probably another failed expedition.

“The consecrated life demands sacrifices few are prepared to make. That’s cause for prayer and reflection, which is why the process has so many steps. You spend time as a postulant, then a novice. Then you take temporary vows for a few years before fully swearing yourself to the order, as Sister Agnes and I have done.”

“But you’re happy you did it, aren’t you, Sister Madeleine?”

Sister Madeleine .

Haera knew little of human nomenclature, but the words had a pleasing cadence.

“Happy?” Sister Madeleine said, after a pause.

“Well…of course I’m happy. This is my life, and I can’t imagine another one. It’s just not for everyone, that’s all. There are a lot of constraints that can inhibit a person’s—” She stopped, right when it was about to get interesting, and shook her head.

“Anyway, tell me: what’s your experience of the call?”

“Oh…well…”

There followed a conversation Haera couldn’t understand, save that the call appeared not to be a literal noise but rather a summons to live in a certain way.

It must be the way Sister Madeleine lived.

Ava did most of the talking while Sister Madeleine listened closely and Haera grew more bored by the second.

The juvenile was definitely less interesting than her elder.

When Ava finally finished, Sister Madeleine said, “Well, how wonderful that you’re considering this. We’d welcome more young women, and when the time comes, I know we’d be happy to take you as a postulant—although we’d prefer you to get a college degree. Just as long as you understand that our way of life demands many sacrifices.”

She turned her head to look out toward the sea.

At that moment, the wind whipped the black cloth back from her face.

It was a striking face.

Haera had never been this close to humans but could easily tell the difference between these two.

The younger one seemed more hapless and unformed.

Sister Madeleine looked resolute with her high cheekbones, straight nose, and full mouth, which she held in a serene line.

The sun and wind had pinked her cheeks.

Haera’s heart raced as if she were trying to win one of the herd’s tests of speed.

There was something here, more than she’d ever sensed before.

If she stayed undiscovered, she could figure it out.

Sister Madeleine lifted her head in a proud tilt as she continued gazing over the sea, looking as if she owned the entire ocean.

“The life demands a certain strength of character,” she said at length.

Strength of character?

What sort of strength was that?

Would it be enough to mark this woman as a worthy challenge?

Haera managed not to swish her tail impatiently.

“We rise before dawn every morning and spend an hour in silent prayer,” Sister Madeleine continued.

“Even on weekends. At seven, morning mass is celebrated, followed by breakfast. Then school begins, and those of us who teach are busy for the rest of the day, although we break for lunch and recreation. The sisters who don’t teach spend the morning and afternoon working around the convent. After our school duties are done, we teachers join them again to read and pray. At five, there’s the evening prayer office, supper and recreation at six, the nightly prayer office, more reading, and lights out at nine-thirty.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Ava said, while Haera shuddered at exactly how bad it sounded.

Thanks to her father and rotting books she’d seen in shipwrecks, she knew what reading was, but she didn’t know how to do it.

And while she reverenced the Great Mare and Stallion, prayer was as dull as a dead crab.

Ava went on: “Not a lot of time to get bored or, like…overthink things. Um, what do you do for recreation?”

“We don’t watch a lot of TV or movies,” Sister Madeleine said dryly.

“There’s little leisure time. That’s the point: our thoughts are turned toward duty and devotion.”

Sister Madeleine probably wouldn’t be impressed by how Haera spent her own days.

Except for hunts, she avoided her fellow Each-uisge as much as possible, straying as far as she dared to explore the ocean, and sometimes just lazing around.

It was a bit lonely, but when she got her wings and the herd’s respect, that would change.

“We’re also involved in the community—and you might have noticed our presence at school dances.” Sister Madeleine smiled.

“Especially when we tell you not to dance too closely to the boys.”

Dance.

Haera knew something about that.

Each-uisge performed mating dances before the combat and frenzy began.

Humans did as well? But how did they do it without getting too close to one another?

It sounded as if Sister Madeleine wasn’t mating with anyone, either.

Not that this mattered one way or the other, but that knowledge felt…

good.

“Uh, yeah.” Ava shifted back and forth on her feet.

“I don’t mind when you tell us that.”

This caused Sister Madeleine to look at Ava for a long, silent moment.

Had the juvenile said something significant, for once?

If so, Sister Madeleine didn’t comment on it, and Ava added: “Do you ever see your family? Or any friends you made before you joined the order?”

There was another pause before Sister Madeleine said, “All Sisters are allowed to do that.”

Her voice sounded different for a moment, in a way Haera couldn’t quite identify.

Ava, however, didn’t seem to notice, and it didn’t last; when Sister Madeleine spoke again, she sounded as brisk as she had before.

“But not often. As I said, we give up a lot. You usually do when you join an organization that requires absolute devotion.”

“Kind of like the army?”

“Kind of,” Sister Madeleine said dryly.

“As I said, it demands strength of character. Although we must never rely on our strength alone. Our best help is in God.”

That was even more confusing.

What was this place called “God” in which humans found help?

Best to ignore that.

It didn’t matter where Sister Madeleine got her strength, so long as she had it.

“Yes, of course,” Ava said.

“So living a normal life—I mean, not that your life isn’t normal , but—it’s easier?”

“No. Life isn’t easy for anyone. Some face greater challenges than others, that’s true.” For a moment, Sister Madeleine’s face changed.

Haera recognized the look as one of sorrow.

“And we often can’t know what others are struggling with. But a big life change always demands strength and courage from us, if we’re to take that risk.”

Warmth coursed through Haera’s blood, like the currents from the southern seas she’d heard described.

Sister Madeleine was right.

Change did require strength.

Didn’t Haera know that all too well?

Becoming the first female Stormhorse, changing her life and the herd’s traditions so completely, would require more strength than she’d ever needed before.

That must be what “strength of character” was.

It seemed, from this conversation, that Sister Madeleine led a life different from most of her kind.

That also needed strength and courage.

“What you want to make sure of,” Sister Madeleine said, “is that you’re not looking to the order as a place to escape anything. It’s a place to engage with the world, not run away from it. Is this something you’re struggling with?”

Ava seemed, somehow, to shrink into herself a little.

“What do you mean, Sister?”

“Only that you seem troubled. Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, Sister. Everything’s, um, great. I’m not running from…anything.”

Haera didn’t have to be human to smell the falsehood.

“I’m glad to hear it,” said Sister Madeleine.

Couldn’t she tell the girl was lying?

“But if you ever need to talk, sometimes an adult can lend a different perspective than someone your own age, even a good friend.” She paused.

“Like Emma.”

Ava went as red as an anemone and wrung her hands—a sign of agitation.

Even though Sister Madeleine’s words and tone were kind, they seemed to upset the girl.

There were so many human codes and quirks Haera would never understand.

“Yes, Sister,” Ava whispered.

“Are you…” Her voice dropped so low that Haera couldn’t hear the end of the sentence.

Sister Madeleine shook her head.

“I don’t think Sister Agnes needs to know about this conversation unless you want to tell her. Do you?”

“No! That is, no, Sister, I don’t want to. Um. Thanks for listening to me. You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

“Just put your trust in God, and all will be well.” Sister Madeleine patted Ava’s shoulder.

“Now let’s get back to the others. This sea breeze isn’t exactly keeping us warm, even with the sun coming out.”

Oh no.

They were leaving? Haera should have foreseen it.

Of course they wouldn’t stay on the beach until nightfall, when it would be easier to lure someone into the water without being seen.

Not that Haera knew for sure if she wanted to lure anyone.

Not that she had decided?—

Sister Madeleine looked out again toward the sea.

At that moment, the wind changed and carried her scent in Haera’s direction.

Haera couldn’t help herself: she lifted her nose out of the water just enough to sniff.

Then she nearly poked out her entire head.

She must be imagining things.

Nothing could smell that good, that pure, that…

intoxicating, as if Haera had just chewed on a stalk of the special seaweed reserved for the Sire’s grotto.

Did all humans smell like this?

No, they couldn’t. Otherwise, they’d be the regular prey of the Each-uisge, for who could resist such a mouthwatering scent?

As it was, within the last two generations, the herd had been forbidden from eating humans except for the Stormhorse trial.

They’d been too careless before, and besides, there was much tastier food out there.

But at the moment, Haera couldn’t imagine any more toothsome fare than this.

“Build your soul’s foundation on rock, like Scripture tells us to.” Sister Madeleine looked down at the beach.

“If you build it on sand, all will be washed away. Rock endures forever, like the standing stones we’ve just been looking at.”

That wasn’t true.

The sea wore down stone over time.

Sister Madeleine should look to the ocean to serve as a foundation for…

whatever a “soul” was.

It sounded interesting.

She spoke with such conviction, such assuredness—two qualities Haera prized in herself.

What a pity you couldn’t actually talk to a human before you ate her.

Haera hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone this much since her father had died.

Or…perhaps she could?

Perhaps if she took a human shape after all—found some clothes, somehow, tracked down Sister Madeleine, she could have a meaningful conversation and then drag her into the ocean…

She looked at Sister Madeleine’s face with desperate hunger.

The more she saw, listened, and smelled, the more certain she was.

This was the one whose flesh she desired, whose blood she longed to mingle with her own.

The one she’d consume and carry all the way into the sky every time she took flight.

Without replying to what Sister Madeleine had said about rock, Ava walked away, her head bent low as she trudged over the sand up toward the grassy hill.

At first, Sister Madeleine kept pace with her.

Then, a few steps in, she stopped and turned around, looking at the ocean once more.

Ava didn’t stop.

Haera’s heart, however, did.

Just for a second. Then, her common sense kicked in like a hoof to the head.

She had a chance, might never get another—she must take it, must risk it.

This woman was worth the risk.

“Sister Madeleine!” she called from the water.

“Help me!”

Her voice didn’t sound like a proper human voice.

It was too deep, rumbling with the rhythms of the sea.

However, it certainly got Sister Madeleine’s attention.

Her head whipped round, the black fabric flapping in the breeze, as she sought out the source of the voice.

She took a step forward.

Haera stayed hidden behind her rock, her head nearly submerged.

Closer…come closer, into the waves…

Nearly at the end of the sand, Ava turned around to see Sister Madeleine frozen on the beach.

She called, “Sister?”

Sister Madeleine called back, “Did you hear that?”

Ava shook her head.

Sister Madeleine looked around again.

“Hello?”

Haera opened her mouth to repeat her cry, but at that moment, a wave crashed brutally, pushing her against the rock even against the strength of her tail.

She went under. When she resurfaced, Ava was trotting back to Sister Madeleine’s side.

It would be too risky to call out again.

Together, the females looked over the water, paying much more attention to their surroundings than they had before.

Haera had to duck below the surface.

By the time she raised her head above the water again, they’d turned their backs and were walking away from the ocean.

Maybe they were going back to that ancient settlement with all the rocks.

Perhaps they resided there?

Or elsewhere nearby.

Her father had said Jorsay had human dwellings not too far away, lining the shore and going inland as well, to a small village where visitors stayed and others lived year-round.

Ava’s and Sister Madeleine’s voices weren’t like the natives’.

They had different accents.

They were probably visitors, meaning they wouldn’t stay for long.

Haera must not despair.

The Great Mare had sent this human woman to her.

This wasn’t the end.

She had to have faith.

Sister Madeleine would clearly agree.

They were heading toward the ancient settlement, which lay to the east. Without a thought, Haera began swimming in that direction, her tail pushing her against the current.

Occasionally, she dared to crest a wave so she could look up and see if they were walking along the cliff.

She had no luck until, when she had swum nearly to the island’s easternmost point, she surfaced and saw Ava and someone else at the cliff’s edge.

It wasn’t Sister Madeleine, though.

It was another juvenile female in colorful clothes.

Haera growled in frustration.

Was her luck cursed?

The females were facing each other and holding hands.

Then, just as Haera was about to submerge in exasperation, she saw them lean toward each other until their faces touched and their mouths pressed together.

Ava let go of the other one’s hands to cup her face.

Were they eating each other?

Haera hadn’t known humans did that.

But neither of them were struggling.

In fact, they wrapped their arms around each other as though this were enjoyable.

After a moment, Ava pulled away and rested her head on the other one’s shoulder.

Just then, the wind struck them and tore the long, gray piece of cloth from Ava’s neck, whipping it up into the air.

Ava flailed after it, but it was too late—the fabric had gone over the cliff.

That happened sometimes: human flotsam collecting in the water before drifting down to the seafloor.

Ava didn’t seem to know it was normal, judging by her distress.

The other female put her arms around Ava again, clearly reassuring her.

Then they released each other and walked, together, away from the cliff’s edge.

Well, that had been confusing.

That was another way humans must pass the time together, but it didn’t mean much to an Each-uisge .

Haera couldn’t imagine mashing her mouth to one of her fellows’.

Would it be different if she did take on human form?

Maybe she could do that to Sister Madeleine, once she found her again.

Haera could take her in her arms and press their mouths together in a gesture of fellowship.

Oddly, the notion wasn’t…

offensive.

Haera wouldn’t know how to do it, though.

If there were rituals or customs attached to the gesture, she’d give herself away.

Sister Madeleine would certainly know all about it.

She’d probably put her mouth against many other humans’.

They would have tasted her lips.

The thought turned Haera’s blood into fire—her natural enemy.

The image of the woman in black in a human’s arms…

leaning into the embrace, giving herself to another…

No. Never again. That wouldn’t happen ever again.

Sister Madeleine had officially touched mouths with her last human.

Haera would see to it.

From this moment on, nobody would devour Sister Madeleine but her.