Page 85 of Panther in the Shadows
"Then where is she?"
I don't have an answer. None of us do.
Moira weeps in my arms. Relief and grief and exhaustion tangled together. The brotherhood works around us. Respectful. Quiet. Giving us space while they clean up the aftermath of battle.
Dawn breaks pink and gold over the Sound. A new day. A new beginning.
But Elspeth is gone.
Three days pass in a blur of recovery and mourning.
The island buries its dead with honor. Coffins lined in rows. Old Tom has been found and stands with the rest of the islanders, solemn but grateful. The families of the victims are finally getting closure after months or years of not knowing. The grief cuts deep, but the relief is real too. Their loved ones are home. At peace. No longer suffering.
Moira attends every funeral. Stands in the back. Says nothing. But her presence means something to these people. The sea witch who fought for their dead. Who freed them from torment. Who gave them rest.
She's still weak. Her magic returns in trickles. Barely enough to sense the tides. To feel the ocean's heartbeat. Nothing like the power she wielded during the battle. That kind of expenditure takes time to recover from.
I don't leave her side. My shoulder heals clean. No infection. No lingering corruption. The death magic purged by ocean water and Moira's unconscious healing flows between us as we sleep tangled together.
The bond we formed during the fight hasn't faded. Her exhaustion pulses through it. Her grief. Her desperate need toknow if Elspeth survived. And she senses my steady presence. My unwavering certainty that we'll find answers.
On the third day, she's strong enough to walk to the water.
We go at dawn. The same tidal pools where this all began. Where I first saw her standing in moonlight, calling the ocean to her command. Where I fell for a woman I had no business wanting.
She moves carefully. Still healing. Still weak. But determined.
"What are we doing?" I ask, though I already know.
"Looking for my sister."
The largest pool reflects the morning sky. Pink and gold and the last purple shadows of night. Moira kneels at the edge. Places both hands in the water. Closes her eyes.
Magic flows from her. Weak but pure. Clean ocean power reaching out. Searching. Calling.
"Elspeth." Her voice carries across the pools. "Sister. If you're here, if you can hear me, please. Let me know you're all right."
Nothing. Just waves and wind and morning light.
Moira's shoulders slump. "She's gone. She's really gone."
"Wait." A ripple spreads across the pool's center. Wind wouldn't make that pattern. Natural current wouldn't either.
The water shimmers. Gathers. Forms.
A shape rises from the pool. Eight years old. Smiling. Made of water and light and morning sun.
Elspeth.
But not the corrupted thing Catalina bound. Not the drowned girl trapped in torment. This is something new. Something beautiful. Pure sea-spirit. Part of the ocean itself.
"Moira." Her voice sounds like waves breaking on shore. Like laughter carried on salt air. "You freed me. You saved me."
"I'm so sorry." Moira's tears fall into the pool. "I should have saved you that day. Should have been faster. Should have pulled you from the water in time. Should have?—"
"Stop." Elspeth's water-hand touches her face. The touch is cool. Gentle. Real enough to feel through the bond. "It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault. I drowned because I was careless. Because I was eight and stupid and didn't listen to Gran's warnings. Not because of you."
"But you suffered. That woman bound you. Tortured you?—"
