The mood in Gaerlom became more festive as the sun began to reflect off the water in a golden glow that matched the waves of Kaye’s hair. The sun lit the water on fire as it was swallowed by the sea. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

She knew now that the pounding in her ears was the ever-present ocean crashing against the cliffs to the north. None of the Gaerloms seemed to hear it anymore, and they didn’t bother her as she sat on the beach and watched the silkies move awkwardly about.

It wasn’t until Abigail retrieved her that Kaye realized the sun was almost gone and the shadows of the huts had grown long behind her. Her body ached as she stood and followed the woman back to the hut. All Kaye wanted to do was sleep.

"I have just the thing for tonight," Abigail said. "I haven't worn it since before Timin was born, but it should fit you fine."

"Fit me?" Kaye looked at her priestess dress that had finally stopped dripping by the fire. "My clothes should be dry."

Abigail's nose bunched up in distaste. "And torn. You can’t wear torn clothes."

Kaye looked to the door where Timin had disappeared to help his father. “I don’t really want to go to the feast.”

"Of course you’re going." Abigail lifted a dress from a chest of clothes and snapped it to get the wrinkles out. "The silkies didn't show up the day after you arrived for no reason. Silkie or no, you bring a good omen to us."

Kaye was sure that her arrival had nothing to do with the silkies, but she hated letting Abigail down. The woman had offered her a safe place to stay while she recovered. “My wings won’t fit under that.”

Abigail’s head snapped to the door. “You shouldn’t say that out loud. They think you’re a silkie.”

“The Obsidians told them—“

“That you were a witch. The Gaerloms don’t know that word—they think it means silkie.”

Kaye eyed the door as if someone might enter and attack her. “What will they do if they find out what I really am?”

“Nothing, because they won’t find out.” Abigail laid the dress on the cot—it resembled a priestess dress from home, although the fabric wasn’t familiar. It was sewn with shells that caught the light and little downy feathers that would dance in the breeze. It might have been Abigail’s wedding dress.

Abigail found a dagger but Kaye put her hand over the fabric. “You can’t destroy this—it’s too beautiful.”

The woman smiled at the dress, but there was sadness in her eyes. “I was saving it for a daughter who never came, and if I were to put it on now, I’d rip it worse. I can always stitch it up again.”

Kaye winced as Abigail cut two slits in the back of the dress. She’d rather wear the oversized dress she had on now, but couldn’t refuse. By the time they managed to get Kaye’s mangled wings through the slits she needed another cup of tea for the pain. She closed her eyes and breathed the scent of tea in—the only thing that smelled of home. When she was ready to move again Abigail gave Kaye a matching cloak to hide her wings.

“The feast will be in the center of the village, so you won’t have to worry about the ocean breeze,” the woman explained as she powdered Kaye’s tear-stained face with crushed shells. She stood back and smiled. “Beautiful. You make a lovely silkie, Kaye Odion.”