Mud and water flew as the mudmaid's tail hit the water. She writhed away but did not retreat. Rising like a great snake, clasping the rod in her sticky, three-fingered hands, she opened her mouth.

Instead of a horrible hiss, this time an oddly beautiful sound came out. It was trilling and mournful and alluring at the same time.

Maurice, even with his hands over his ears, found his shoulders going slack. He wanted...to walk out into the water. To go to her.