As she swam, schools of tropical fish slid past her, flicking their tails in unison. She smiled with delight and reached out to touch one. As her fingers closed over the darting shape, the water turned cold. She shivered and looked up. A massive storm cloud loomed on the far horizon, lightning lancing down from the skies. The blue waters turned gray, and the waves chopped in the rising wind. Panic seized her and she began to sink. She tried to cry out, but the words were drowned. She went deeper. Colder. Her temples thumped, her lungs ached. She tried to shout again, and this time a strangled sound burst from her lips. She broke the surface again. Ahead of her was the shape, the terrible face that had taken her… Covered in sweat and shaking, Teyla woke into darkness and silence. She pulled her furs closely round her shoulders, trying to shake off the lingering sense of fear. She had no idea how long she’d been out, or where she was, or what had happened. The feeling of dislocation was oppressive.
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