Ember hurried along the lakeside trail, keeping her head low. The shoreline was clear, and the only sign that other Linnaeans were nearby was the occasional ripple on the lake’s surface. She was grateful for the brown windbreaker and its hood, both for the warmth and the anonymity.

As promised, a sturdy bamboo raft was waiting in the ninth slot. It was secured at the crest of the bank, just before the shallow incline that led into the water. With unsteady hands, she gripped the cold metal of the key and unlocked the chain wrapped around the nearest shoot. Bracing herself against a stone, she pushed until the raft slid down the ramp and into the water.

She tucked the paddle under one arm and scrambled down next to the raft, angling her legs awkwardly to dip a hand into the lake. She winced, withdrawing it immediately; while the air was merely crisp, the water felt downright frigid, at least to a Linnaean with a cold-blooded source species.

For Hickory’s practical, she and Morgan had walked the raft into waist-high water before mounting it. This time, she clambered onboard from the shore, only dampening her hands and knees. She sat back on her shins and used the paddle to propel the raft off of the bank.

As she bumbled a few feet in either direction, Ember began to realize just how ill-conceived the trip was. Having never grown up around the water, she had failed to recognize the impact of the time of day and weather on the lake conditions. In the dim light, the water was inky black and opaque below the surface. Without her partner and classmates nearby, the atmosphere was almost sinister. In the distance, she could just make out the buoys that marked the drop-off into the depths.

Moreover, she wasn’t skilled at steering the raft, and it was too dangerous to enter the water without equipment. Even if she did—somehow—find who she was looking for, there was no guarantee that he would agree to help her.

With her options limited, Ember pointed the raft in the direction of the reef where she and Morgan had recorded their twenty-foot dive. For fifteen minutes, she paddled further from the shore. Glimpses of the sandy bottom became fewer and farther between. The towers of coral heads, once vibrant, loomed dark and shadowy in the muted light.

She stilled the raft. It bobbed gently as she tightened the windbreaker and peered into the gloomy water. The wind whistled past her ears, pushing flyaways out of her ponytail. If she sat quietly enough, she could hear splashing near the opposite shore. She folded her legs and waited.

Time moved slowly. Birds flew over the lake on their way to roost in the trees, and the sun crept across the sky in a downward arc. Ember picked up her paddle only occasionally, pushing herself a few feet back so that she wouldn’t drift out into deeper water. She thought of calling out Orthus’s name, then decided that it would ruin any chance of him appearing at all. Perhaps he meets his clients somewhere else?

There was a disturbance nearby, and Ember looked over to see a school of forearm-sized fish flashing just underneath the surface. Their vibrations made raindrop-like patterns as they wove frenetic patterns over each other. One jumped clear out of the water with a flick of its silvery tail, narrowly missing the nearest bamboo shoot.

Ember shifted. That’s weird, it’s like they’re being chased.

A tremor ran through the bamboo. Ember seized the sides, her chest tightening. The raft spun slowly as she scanned the water. She counted to sixty, the taut skin over her knuckles whitening. When nothing else happened, she sat back gradually, picking up the paddle. It’s time to go.

Something slammed into the raft from below, flipping it into the air in an eruption of surf. Ember’s fingers grasped at the slippery shoots uselessly, and she hit the water with a slap.

For a moment, everything was still. She sank slowly under the surface in a cloud of bubbles, stunned by the shocking cold. Then, her eyes sprang open and she kicked hard, breaking the surface. She took a gasping breath, and her heavy clothes threatened to drag her down again. The raft floated nearby, belly-up. She reached for it.

Something bumped her leg. She yelled, kicking with full force. Her shoe made contact with a dense body, pushing it away. Desperately, she hauled herself onto the raft, dripping with icy water.

“Ow!” someone exclaimed, and Ember whipped around to see the head and shoulders of a grey-skinned Linnaean. She was topless and rubbing a reddened spot near her collarbone. “You made me lose the fish,” she said indignantly.

A wave of fury crashed down over Ember. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she shouted. “You’re damn lucky I know how to swim!”

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The woman tilted her head, and a quizzical whistle came from her throat. “Why were you flailing around in the water?”

Ember’s mouth widened in disbelief. “You knocked me off of my raft!”

“It’s not really a good day for a swim.”

“You. Knocked. Me. Off!” Ember nearly screamed. Her hand twitched, and she had to stop herself from slapping the woman.

The other Linnaean was tapping her head. “You look very familiar. I think we’ve met before.”

Ember folded her arms, taking a few calming breaths. Sure enough, she recognized the rubbery skin, tiny teeth, and shrill voice. “You came up on me while I was taking a bath,” she confirmed accusatorily. “On my first day in Mendel.”

The woman laughed. “That’s right.”

Ember reconsidered her position, deciding that yelling at the only other Linnaean she had seen in hours wasn’t the brightest idea. “As you pointed out, I don’t belong here,” she said pointedly. “I was looking for someone. His name is Orthus. Do you know him?”

The woman’s teeth sparkled as she smiled slyly, and for a moment Ember was taken aback. “Yes, I do know him. In the wild, dolphins hunt octopi.”

The thought of Orthus, haughty as he was, being chased by this ridiculous woman made the corner of Ember’s mouth twitch upward. She narrowed her line of questioning. “What I meant is, where is he? Right now?”

“Oh, that. He’s out.”

“When is he coming back?”

“No one knows.”

Ember resisted the urge to claw her hair out. She was soaked to the bone, and it wouldn’t be long before the sun descended over the horizon. At some point during the dolphin’s collision with the raft, the paddle had been lost to the dusky water. Even if she left right away, she might not make it back in time for the last carriage.

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can you take me back to shore?”

The dolphin sank back down into the water until only her eyes showed, pretending to pout. Ember pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry I kicked you, and that you lost your fish, all right? Never mind that I was actively drowning. I’m hopeless in the water, so please, push the raft back. Surely it won’t take long.”

The other woman thought it over. Then, without another word, she took a gulp of air and disappeared under the surface. The raft shook and then rocketed through the water, almost dislodging its passenger.

As the dolphin’s strong, silvery legs propelled them through the water, Ember realized that she had drifted further out than she had originally thought. With no obvious markers like trees and buildings, the distance from the shore had been deceptive. Even at their quick pace, it took over fifteen minutes of hair-rasing travel until the tip of the bamboo shoots poked solid ground.

Ember hauled herself to her feet, stumbling in her eagerness to leave the lake. Her fingers and toes were painfully numb with cold. She thanked the dolphin, who stopped mid-reply to dive down in pursuit of another school of fish.

“What a disaster,” Ember muttered aloud. With great effort, she dragged the raft up the bank, her shoes spitting out water with every step. She reached for the chain, having to pick it up once, then twice as her shaky fingers lost their grip. Finally, she turned the key in the lock, securing it again.

Her steps along the shore were slow and labored as if her legs were held back by hands of molasses. As soon as she looked at the sky again, it was clear that the last carriage would have long since come and gone. She tried the door to the outbuilding, but it was locked, so she dumped the sodden windbreaker in front of the door. I guess he really wasn’t worried, she thought, remembering the research assistant who had manned the counter. Good thing I didn’t drown… though it would have been no one’s fault but my own.

With no other option, she turned toward the trail that led back to campus. She guessed that it was a seven-mile journey back to the unaffiliated dorm. She was far too tired to run, and it was not an easy hike over the forest terrain, meaning it would take at least two and a half hours before she could suppress her disappointment with sleep. Still, barring any major incident, she would be back before eleven o’clock.

She pulled off her waterlogged outerwear and threw it over her shoulder, stripping down to her bathing suit. As the wind stung her exposed skin, she reminded herself that she was solely responsible for the unwise idea of visiting the lake. She set off over the trail, lifting her wearied legs over the uneven ground. The giant trees arched overhead, their leaves rustling in the dying shades of sunset. The wall of darkness between their trunks made Ember wary, though she no longer felt the sharp fear that had accompanied nighttime in the weeks immediately following the rogue’s attack.

Ember’s body was deathly sore by the time the waning moon rose in the sky. Other than the occasional distant noise or the buzzing of an insect, it was a quiet night. By her best reckoning, she had walked for forty minutes. Her bathing suit had settled into an uncomfortable dampness, though rivulets of water were still being expelled from her hair.

Something prickled on Ember’s right. She turned suddenly, just as a figure materialized behind the nearest tree. A spike of adrenaline ran down her neck, and she stepped backward. Her foot turned awkwardly over a root, and to her horror, she collapsed like a sack of potatoes onto the path.

The figure neared as she righted herself. “W-who are you?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice calm.

He stepped into a thin ray of moonlight, pulling back the hood of his cloak. He was dressed in all black, with a leather messenger bag lying against one hip. His half-blue, half-orange eyes shone out from the darkness, looking her up and down. “Ember?”