Free The Shadow of Mist by Yasmine Galenorn

knowledge to hide.
    We wove through the dark water, silent and swift, Terrance holding me against him with one arm while steering with the other. His tail acted like a rudder, shifting our direction, sending us deeper and deeper with its powerful motion. The cold began to seep into my bones, and I felt myself going numb. It wouldn’t be long before I passed out.
    The water was like a black veil, everything that was familiar to me, everything that I associated with riding the waves gone, stripped away by my human form. I could feel my baby stirring, and wondered if she could feel the arms of the Ocean Mother embracing us. She would be a selkie, born in the ocean, and she would return to it time and again. She would revere it and worship it and love it, but only if I managed to survive.
    Terrance suddenly halted and I vaguely saw another shape near us. Another of the Finfolk. The woman reached out and stroked my hair, then raked her nails down the side of my face, not enough to make me bleed but enough to hurt. As she did so, I could feel an energy surrounding me and then—within seconds—the numbing chill fell away and I was warm and comfortable. She was a sea witch, then, and dangerous. I let out a faint shudder and Terrance pulled me closer and started off again.
    He let out a series of chirps and clucks. I knew enough of his language to recognize the meaning. Apparently we were heading toward open water, and he said something to his companion about a boat. So that was how they were stealing me away. Via boat. At least I wouldn’t be riding the waves across the ocean. In human form, I wouldn’t survive it.
    We glided through the glassy depths, turning slightly as Terrance’s silent, powerful fin steered us northward. I tried to remember my geography. Were there locks? Were there places where we’d be forced to get out of the water and transform?
    Finfolk possessed exceptional strength and Terrance would be able to swim for a long time before needing to rest. My bet was that we wouldn’t stop until we reached Whidbey Island, which would be the perfect place for him to have a boat waiting if he wanted to sail out through the Strait of Juan de Fuca.
    But could he really mean to cross the Pacific? If so, he’d better have one hell of a boat.
    I tried to work out how far we’d come, but my sense of timing was off. Time shifted in the water—as if the clock slowed to a crawl.
    And then I glanced up. The shadow of something low flying and big was skimming along the surface. What the hell? Before I could blink, there was a huge displacement of water as a large white form dove deep, coming up to grab Terrance and me in one gigantic claw. As we were swept up out of the water, I gasped. A dragon. Smoky! And astride his back, thoroughly soaked and clinging to him for dear life, sat Camille, looking dazed and cold in her dripping chiffon and leather.
    Terrance began to flail and Smoky eased open his claws long enough for the Meré to slip through and fall hard into the water. I held tight to the talons gripping me by the waist, praying that my baby was all right.
    With wings steadily gliding on the chill breeze, we were over land within minutes, back over the park from where Terrance had kidnapped me. As we landed, Delilah and Menolly ran over to us, pulling Camille off Smoky’s back and wrapping her in a blanket, and wrapping me in another. I stared at them, horrified, trying to comprehend everything that had happened.
    â€œShe’s in shock,” Delilah said, and her voice seemed to be coming from a long, long way away, from down a long, dark tunnel.
    â€œYou’re right. We need to get her to the FH-CSI and have her checked out.” Menolly gazed at me, her eyes burning bright and brilliant, red as fire, red as blood. She leaned forward and I couldn’t look away.
    â€œSleep,” she whispered.
    And I did.

    I woke to the smell of tea and toast, and pushed myself up