Blackwater Islands was hypnotized by a strange delight

She had long grown used to hurts, but seeing Mou crumble and cling to the healer was a dagger straight to the heart, again and again. Right into the spot where he occupied, sometimes empty, sometimes full. Now it was a yawning void—but how could it pain her so much, if the knife hit no flesh?

Maegi sagged onto her hindquarters and let out a sob. He's my husband, she pleaded, and wasn't sure if she addressed Bridget or Mou or neither—it didn't matter. Her tears mingled with the blood, trailing down her jawline. We have children. We had—have—each other.

She listed to one side, then the other, a low keen deep in her throat. They did something, she insisted, and her eyes were narrowed to slits. The witches. They are Melonii; they cursed him.

"Paranoid little girl; you haven't changed a bit."