Grace lay spread-eagle in the grassy clearing, watching clouds drift across the darkening sky like slow-moving ships. Her white hair fanned out beneath her, probably collecting all kinds of dirt and bugs, but who cared?
Not Grace. Not tonight.
[So this is it,] she thought with a sigh. [Tonight I'm going to get freaky with a water spirit who may or may not want to kill me out of a sense of generational bitterness... Just another day in the life of Grace Lightsinger, eh?]
The village buzzed behind her like a kicked beehive. People nailed boards over windows and hauled their precious stuff to higher ground, prepping for the Tide's big entrance. The air tasted like salt and fear, tension thick enough to slice with her rapier.
"I... hope you're not planning to just lie there all night," a meek voice said from above.
