Chapter One

Horsemistress Liadan was on a scouting mission. Normally, the tall, freckled leader of the equestrian women warriors known as the Aofaban would give such a humble duty as this one to an akha, a woman early in her training. But the day was warm, clear and mild, rare in Reshan, a land of clouds and frequent rain; things were quiet, and Liadan relished the time alone.

She crouched low over her mare as the horse surged forward, all smooth movement and gathered muscle. The wind coming off the ocean was comfortably cool even on such a fair day, and Tali's cream-colored mane brushed her rider's face. Tali's body was a striking gold color, as were all the horses in the Aofaban. "The Golden Tide" was what their enemies called them, as the expertly trained horses and their skilled riders swept across a battlefield.

Liadan was looking for signs that the FinFolk had trespassed on the land. Well, that was the excuse, anyway. And she was not one to shirk her duty even on such a beautiful day. As Tali galloped easily along the beach, Liadan's gaze swept the shoreline, thinking about the two races that shared the ocean. The Fialaban could pass for human, and attractive humans at that, if the one Liadan had once known was any example. Queen Riona's husband, Farron, once prince of his own realm beneath the waves, could have been mistaken for an exceptionally beautiful human man-if it had not for the blue tinge to his skin, large, slightly slanted eyes, and the blue-black hue of his hair. Such could never be said of the FinFolk.

They were utterly hideous-fish with legs and arms, fish that reeked from the thick ooze that covered their scaly bodies, fish who had made it more than one's life was worth to venture too far out into the ocean even in a boat. Small vessels were at the most risk of being capsized by a webbed hand reaching up from the depths. Recently, even larger vessels were apparently coming under attack; scouts reported broken timbers washing up on the beach.

Sometimes, the things did venture on land, near the smaller fishermen's homes. They left a telltale trail of their vile-smelling ooze behind. Liadan hoped she would not happen upon an eerily empty stone house, the floors covered with reeking slime. But she saw nothing except for driftwood, seaweed and the gleam of white shells as Tali's hooves covered the soft sand.

Her mind went back to the handsomer of the two races. It was more than a decade ago that Riona's husband had left her to return to the ocean, and with him went his daughters-two living, one stillborn. Gold, Silver and Copper he had named them, for the hues of their fine, infant's hair. Riona had never fully recovered from the loss of both husband and children in a single night. Liadan was a practical, grounded woman, and did not think overmuch about the eventual fates of the two girls who had lived, Silver and Copper. But she knew Riona did. And sometimes, as now, Liadan too gazed out over the ocean, which hid so much and revealed so very little, and wondered if the two children lived, or if, half human as they were, they had drowned when the salty waves closed over their silver and copper-colored heads.

As if the very sea and sky sensed her change in mood, the wind shifted. With startling speed clouds started moving in, and the warm sun was obscured. Liadan drew Tali to a walk and looked out over the ocean, once blue, now a cold gray.

"The rain should start…."

There was bright flash of lightning, followed by the booming roll of thunder, and hard drops stung her skin.

"…right about now," Liadan sighed. The waves of the ocean, which had been gentle just a few moments ago, were now high and white-capped. Dangerous. Almost…angry. And the wind as it rushed over the water seemed to be making a strange sound-"howl" was too harsh a word for it. It was almost like…singing…

The first time she saw it, Liadan thought it was just her imagination, sparked by her melancholy thoughts. But then she glimpsed it again and swore underneath her breath.

Someone was out there.

No one swam of their own volition any more. The waters were too cold for most of the year, and now, thanks to the FinFolk, to swim in these waters would be to invite attack.

Liadan swung from Tali's back and ran to where she'd glimpsed the pale shape in the dark water. She was dressed in standard riding gear, sodden now from the sudden storm—a cloak, linen tunic and breeches, boots, a tabard bearing the insignia of the Aofaban—and peeled off what she could before plunging in.

The fierce waves buffeted her, as if mocking any rescue attempt. Bone-numbing cold assaulted her and the salt stung her eyes, but she struck out toward where she had last seen the small shape, swimming strongly. Liadan came up gasping for air, coughing salty water and struggling to stay afloat in the surging tide, and looked around. She saw nothing. Kicking vigorously, she dove back down into the dark, churning water.

There….

The child was naked, her long red hair drifting behind her like a cloud, and she was heading for shore with a strength and speed that belied her size. By the time a chilled Liadan slogged out of the water, so cold she could barely feel her limbs, the girl stood on the wet sand, hair plastered to her skull and halfway down her back. She turned to Liadan. The Horsemistress gaped at the preternaturally wise sea-green eyes, the long, red hair, the dusting of freckles over an upturned, unnaturally solemn oval face. A shiver went through Liadan that had nothing to do with cold.

Copyright © 2007 by Christie Golden.