The man with the dreadlocks hauled Fiona out first and handed her off to 
her father. The fabricules making up her clothing—countless mites linked 
elbow-to-elbow in a two-dimensional array—went to work pumping away the 
water trapped in the interstices. Fiona was wreathed in a sinuous veil of mist 
that burned with the captured light of the torches. Her thick red hair had been 
freed from the confines of her hat, which had been torn away by the waves and 
now fell about her in a cape of fire.