The Metkayina village was built on floating platforms, anchored to the reef below. Structures of woven coral and stretched hide rose above the water, connected by bridges that swayed with the waves. Children dove from platforms into crystal water. Adults swam among schools of colorful fish, harvesting food from gardens beneath the surface.
It was beautiful. It was alien. And for the forest people, it was terrifying.
Kaelen couldn't swim.
This became apparent on the first day, when he stepped onto a platform, slipped on wet coral, and plunged into the ocean with a yelp that sent Metkayina children into fits of laughter.
Seri dove in after him, her forest instincts useless in the water, but her determination as strong as ever. She grabbed his arm, pulled him to the surface, dragged him back onto the platform.
"I can't swim," he gasped.
"I noticed."
"I really, really can't swim."
"We'll have to fix that."
The Metkayina assigned them teachers—young ones, patient ones, who spent hours showing the forest people how to move in this new element. Kaelen learned slowly, painfully, swallowing enough salt water to fill a small lake. But he learned.
And slowly, day by day, the survivors began to heal.