Blackwater Islands bleak

The smell hit her first. Even under the odors of sickness and sea, she'd know that scent anywhere. But given her mental state, the fact that this place was all but a bad dream, she didn't want to believe—

Oh, my God, Maegi exclaimed softly as they entered the chamber. This had to be a ruse, right? Some trick of the witches? Oh, God.

She fell to her knees beside him, heedless of whatever ailed him, licking his face and feeling the feverish heat of him seep into her flank like osmosis.

You're alive, she breathed. Or was he? Were they? She turned to the girl, eyes perfect circles in their roundness. What happened? Where did you find him?

Harka, we call him. His name is Mou, she countered, not without an acerbic touch of possessiveness.

Mou. Mine.