In the darkness, a light rain began to fall. Oriana shifted onto her back, crying out when sand pressed against her burned skin. She let her mouth fall open, catching as much rain as she could, buying precious time. Enough for a few more hours, that was all she needed. She had to survive a few more hours.
She heard the waves rushing onto the rocks, too far away to do more than tantalize her. The post loomed over her, a dark shadow with something pale at the top—the albatross. Her eyes were failing. Her gills ached, so very dry, and the rain wasn’t enough to ease the pain.
There was no one, she knew. No one would come for her. It would be the will of the gods if she died here alone. Only she had done nothing to deserve this punishment. By all rights, the gods should send her rescue.
The rain, meager though it might be, refreshed her hope. A few more hours. She only had to survive a few more hours.