Water streamed from her hair. She drew air into her lungs without exposing herself above the mast, watching the distant figures working along the merchantman's rail.
The vessel grew smaller as she watched from behind the broken mast.
At last, the curve of the sea hid its hull, leaving only a ragged sail above the horizon.
Black Fang planted her palm on the ice and pulled herself out.
Her boots found the frozen shelf Quinlan left behind beside a dead Fomorian. She straightened, water pouring from the hem of her clothes and pattering onto the blood beneath her feet.
"Haa..."
She pushed her wet hair behind one shoulder. Her combat robes usually concealed her figure, but the soaked black silk now clung to her breasts and waist. Cold water trickled down her leg beneath the torn hem.
Quinlan would have dried and warmed her already.
The thought came so readily that she looked toward the distant sail again.
Now she stood alone with a sea full of corpses and a freezing body.
