Ankyra Sound There are times that walk from you like some passing afternoon

Ephraim's champagne eyes traced the rise and fall of the dirty surf across the wet sand of the sound while he sunk silently into his mind. Raleska's voice was heard as though she was speaking through the thin bole of a reed, far off and faint. His dark ears flickered once in acknowledgement, but it was a long time before he returned to himself. He needed that moment of composure, lest the madness of Caiaphas' demise overwhelm his fragile defenses.

We can't leave her there, said Ephraim. He didn't particularly care what happened to Ankyra Sound anymore, but he imagined Rusalka would one day return here. Her body would poison the water. Their mother would like that, her last act in the mortal coil being to claim the Sound forevermore as her own... but Ephraim didn't know her, and didn't know that likely would be her preference.

Maybe we can set her out to sea, he suggested, more firmly now than his first mention of it. She would be leagues away from shore by the time her body rotted, then.