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me, the calm harbor was roused to a threatening rage, wind lashing. I wanted to be on the island so keenly it ached, and the fear was like a knife in my belly.
    I did turn, then, and saw Hyacinthe behind me, standing on the waters. He clutched the case to him and his face was ashen with terror, eyes stark with helpless power. Only his promise to me held him there.
    Fear.
    Pain.
    Let it come, then. I faced it and let it wash through me, setting my raw nerves to singing with the piercing-sweet, inimitable chords of agony, gradually tinting my vision the hue of blood. I was an anguissette . What was this to the Mahrkagir’s iron rod, to Melisande’s deadly flechettes? No worse, surely. Only pain, only fear.
    In a crimson haze, I took another step.
    Before me, the maelstrom widened like a maw, and the flickering brightness drove away Kushiel’s influence, leaving me with nothing to bolster my courage. What moved at the bottom of the abyss? Angel or monster? I had seen Rahab described as divine messenger and Leviathan alike in the Yeshuite writings. Something surged, a vast coil of flesh, bescaled and gleaming, green as jade. Pain wracked my bones like an ague. I bit my lip and on trembling legs, took another step. The winds rose to shriek past my ears, and I dared not look behind me. It didn’t matter if Hyacinthe faltered; only that I didn’t. He would not let me sink.
    As long as your courage holds ...
    I took another step.
    The depths of the maelstrom roiled, revealing glimpses of something changing and unnamable, born of the protean underworld. A tentacle, an impossible slitted eye, a neck maned and arching, a whale’s flukes, a sculpted shoulder blade, a mighty wing ... terrible beauty, formless and shifting, vaster than the mind can comprehend. I cannot say why, but it shook me to the marrow of my soul, filling me with awe and horror.
    Still I forced my legs to move, step by trembling step, to the very brink of the maw. And though Hyacinthe’s control of the elements was faltering, though the waves raged around me and churned at the cliffs, though the winds flogged me and my garments were soaked, the waters bore my weight.
    “Rahab!” My voice was inaudible. I drew a breath choked with salt spray and called again, into the whirling pit. “Rahab, by the binding of your own curse, I summon you here!”
    The maelstrom shuddered, and a form arose from it-an outflung fin of water, sea-green and pinioned with foam, pointing to the egress and crashing back into the harbor, spume flying. I looked where it had pointed, and stifled a cry of despair.
    There, between the cliffs, came racing the ship Elua’s Promise , storm-driven, every sail taut and straining, riding like a kestrel on the edge of the winds. Rahab’s gaze reached farther than we had reckoned. Somewhere behind me, I heard Hyacinthe cry out with fear, and the churning water that bore me softened . I sank to my knees in water and lost my balance, wave-tossed, putting both hands down to catch myself and plunging elbow-deep. The steep walls of the maelstrom canted before me, threatening to pitch me into its maw. Salt water dashed my face and I fought for breath, terrified of drowning.
    If I went back all would be well.
    If I went back, my loved ones would be safe.
    Ah, Elua! It was unfair. I wanted to turn back, wanted it more than anything I’d known. I was afraid, for myself, for Joscelin, for Imriel-for all of us, everyone. But every patron, I thought, has sought to make me give my signale . This is no different. If I turn back, what then? I will have surrendered at last. And somewhere behind me, too near to be ashore, I heard Hyacinthe’s voice, ragged, chanting the incantation he’d spoken before, keeping his promise. The water grew more buoyant, solidifying. I managed to scramble to my feet, tossing my sodden, tangled hair out of my eyes, taking a deep breath.
    “Rahab,” I whispered.
    The maelstrom ceased its surging and went still, waiting, an impossibly deep well in the small harbor. The churning waves went flat, the winds dropped like a stone. Some thirty yards away, Elua’s Promise drifted, momentum slowing. The surface of the sea quivered like a horse’s flank.
    I took another step, edging around the maw. “Rahab.”
    In the depths, something gathered and flickered, a brightness coalescing. I took another breath, feeling light-headed and strange, walking on water as though it were dry earth. I have only given my signale once, and I