First the sunbeam jostled her, panting as he worked his way over to the red colt. And then sunbeam looked back at her. And smiled. And spoke to her: “Gosh, you’re pretty.”
 
Ultima stared. Even after he and the other boys tore off into the sea, she could only watch, her eyes big, gold, binary stars honed on the place where he had been. Snapdragon, front paws on the arch of her neck, mewled loudly, his tail twitching. She jolted. “Wait.” She spun a tight about-face. “WAIT—”
 
Rushing several steps forward, she sprung her wings and glided down the banks after them. Whether she’d imagined the compliment or not (His mouth didn’t move! Tell me his mouth moved!), the matter of real import was a flock of children potentially drowning themselves on a dare. They certainly weren’t the only ones – like a strange parade, she watched both Glasgow and Aquila duck beneath the surface, and the Mountain, too, and then Tembovu. A large part of her felt assured. If Tembovu and the Mountain were going, then surely it was safe? And Aquila was part-fish! But she was sure she’d seen so many others planted on the shore, shouting their warnings—
 
A tall, antlered filly hopped in, followed by a two-horned colt and another with four curving against his skull. Ultima wheezed. Practically every foal who’d answered Kisamoa’s call had made a bee-line for the seaweed. Wryly, she thought that a year ago, two years ago, she might have done the very same.
 
Snapdragon screeched as she plunged into the water, slogging doggedly through the waves until they broke gently against her chest. What was she looking for? What could she do without following them under? Whispering anxiously to herself, “Well, if we all drown, I wouldn’t exactly call that a compromise—” the girl cast about for something, anything. Just a sign that—
 
“—Over there!”
 
The boy, the little angel who’d knocked into her leg – he pulled the sun’s light, didn’t he? He shone, was her point, and even beneath the sea she could see a shaft of light, like a literal lifeline, jutting straight out of the sea. It traveled slowly, wavering back and forth.
 
Her wings, which had hung stiffly aloft, sagged slightly with relief. So long as she could see that light, he was safe. And so long as he was safe, she had reason to believe the others were, too. The girl had no idea what lived in the ocean – which may have been for the better, because then she might have fainted – but wrapped herself around the fact that so many warriors had joined the sea-thing’s game. She hadn't distrusted Kis until then, but she held onto her hope, as she always did.
 
Exhaling, a long breath through grit teeth, she resigned herself to waiting. And was slightly taken aback by the four-horned boy, who hadn’t vanished into the deeps after all. One less she had to worry about, at least.
 
Ignoring her kitten’s frenzied hissing, she reached out in curiosity.
 
“Second thoughts, is it?”