Horizon by Jenn Reese

came into view, Hoku whooped and broke into a run. Aluna hopped faster until the soft sand of the beach made it impossible. She abandoned her walking sticks, dropped to the ground, and removed the leather sheath binding her tail. The sand felt hot and gritty under her wounded palms as she dragged herself toward the surf, and she loved it anyway.
    Hoku hit the water first and dove. Aluna wasn’t far behind. A wave crashed in front of her and slid up the sand. The churning froth hit her forearms and chest and splashed her face. She laughed and tumbled into the surf, letting it pull her into the sea. Within two flashes, the water enveloped her. Hugged her. Spun and twisted and tossed her around like a youngling with a new toy.
    She wanted to swim deeper. To feel the pressure of the water all around her and see the sun’s power dwindle into darkness. The last time she’d been in the ocean, she’d had legs. Now . . .
    Her tail glistened. In the Above World, it had been like a parched desert tree, pale and fragile and aching for water. But underwater, colors emerged: lush kelp greens, vibrant blues, warm golds. She reveled in the way the pattern changed with every angle. Her tail fin unfolded and splayed open, a full meter of diaphanous, shimmering membrane, sleek and strong.
    Aluna floundered, trying to force her new body to move the way the old one had. But soon she found it, the rhythm of muscle movements she needed to propel herself through the water.
    Hoku splashed up ahead, his legs kicking in their erratic, undisciplined way as he swam. She zoomed past him. Crabs scuttled out of her way. Fish darted for cover. Eels retreated to their hidey-holes.
    Swift as a seal, fast as a dolphin.
    She dove, giddy with the power her new tail gave her. When she reached the sea bottom, she somersaulted, fast, and shot straight up toward the surface. The sun welcomed her back. She broke the surface of the water and flipped into the air. Her tail spun over her head once, twice, three times. She crashed back down with a victory yell bigger than any battle cry.
    Aluna’s breathing shell throbbed at her throat. She closed her eyes and drifted. The salty water had erased every last bit of the desert from her skin.
    With her tail, she could swim fast and far and never get tired. She could leave everything and everyone behind and become like the Deepfell, a creature of the ocean in mind as well as body. Digging mussels, hunting fish, catching crabs, and exploring citywrecks. She’d never wanted that life more than she wanted it right now.
    “Aluna!” came Hoku’s voice in her ear. “Come quick. Calli saw something.”
    “I’m here,” she said. She rolled in the water, amazed at the way it buoyed her. She was so tired of crutches and pain, of her own tedious slowness on land. “I’m coming.”
    She rode the waves back toward the beach until she found them. Hoku stood waist-deep in the water, obviously reluctant to leave it. Calli hovered a few meters above him, her hands clasped nervously in front of her chest.
    “What is it?” Aluna asked. “What’s wrong?”
    “I scouted down the shore looking for HydroTek, and I found what’s left of it,” Calli said. Her hands wound around each other like a pair of eels. “HydroTek has been destroyed.”

D ESTROYED?” Hoku asked, fighting off a wave of panic. “Completely?”
    “The dome is broken,” Calli said. “The buildings are smashed and there’s smoke billowing into the sky. It must have been recent. I saw two tiny things flying around. Maybe dragonfliers. I think at least some of the Upgraders are still there.”
    “Did you see any Dome Meks scurrying around trying to fix everything?” Hoku asked, thinking of the crab-girl Liu. “No small, furry raccoon-shaped pieces of tech?” He already missed Zorro more than he could even admit; the idea of losing him forever was simply unbearable.
    “It’s too far away to see, even with my distance sight,” Calli said. Her voice