The corner of his mouth tugged, lighting a small fire under my frosted skin. He stretched a hand for me, but I leaned out of his grasp. His eyes left mine in sudden alarm, flashing as they darted to the deep gray behind me. “Don’t.”
“I’m already here,” I said, gesturing toward the channel at my back before I flung the drenched pack over the rocks beside him.
“Leihani.” He threw the word like a small curse. “Get out of the water.”
“I found seaweed.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“We’re both starving,” I snarled, unsure what exactly had offended me. I tossed the knife next to him where it landed with a wetclunk. “There’s no food on land. We’ve searched.”
“Theia-born stubborn woman.” Kye wrenched the dripping pack knapsack away from the waves, swinging his feet back into the water as he scooted to the edge, the scent of hot metal suddenly thick and porous in my nose.
He pulled off one boot, a small gush stream from it as he threw it away—
Without warning, a jolt of panic at the idea of him joining me sent me under the surface, leaving him to sit there alone. I gazed up at his wafty shape from below the waves as he slowly stood, silhouetted against the haggard sun, arms crossed as he stared down at the place I’d vacated.
A sliver of guilt wove my thoughts together. The thought of leaving him there, worried and angry. Alone.
But the pirate ship was far from sight, and he knew better than to start another fire before nightfall. With luck, I’d discoversomething to satiate our bellies below. I’d even take a handful of plankton. So, off I went, hunting for something. Anything.
But I found nothing. The cold leached into my bones, robbing my muscles of the ability to stretch, and I had to admit defeat. Stinging, cutting defeat, and even worse, a sharp lash at my pride as I imagined Kye’s face waiting for me among the cliffs.
I wasn’t sure if my stomach slowly turned in agony over the absence of food or the burn of failure as I rose to the surface to take in the sky and cliffs, searching for where I’d left him. Everything was gray and dead—the clouds, the water, the air—none of it recognizable.Mihauna, where was I? Dipping back under, I made to swim closer to the coast for a better look.
But when the lap of water smoothed over my head, I couldn't think. My blood had vacated my extremities, pooling around my core. Circulation lessened in my arms and tail, but my head—my head wobbled with dizziness. The cold wrapped around me like a blanket of iron, twisting tighter and tighter. Immobilizing me. Crushing me.
I grew drowsy.
My vision blurred as I felt myself nodding off, jolting awake in deeper water than I’d been the moment before. Suddenly, a vein of warm current stroked my skin. I latched onto it. Warmth—not only a soothing relief to my body, but perhaps the first sign of sea life. Sliding into the warm flux, I followed it, riding a liquid tunnel. It curved down into the water, away from the surface.
I didn’t notice my relief wearing away.
I didn’t notice the sleepiness that took its place.
I woke, the warm current suddenly gone, my body thrust into an icy embrace. There weren’t words for a cold like this. Like a slap across my skin. Blinding suffocation. I snapped awake and scrambled, as though someone had violently thrown a blanket off me, my body seeking the warm patches nestled between the down feathers in my mattress—and realized I wasn’t in a bed.
I was in deep water.
It was dark. Dark like Nahli’s cavern before I’d entered the illuminated center. Dark like the cargo hold of theAspireat night. Dark like the underground, like things unseen, like promises made to unearthly shadow. So dark, I couldn’t see my own hands. Or anything else.
I couldn’t hear anything, either.
An omission of sound larger than the absence of wafting seaweed and fish. No wind or rain hit the surface of the water from above. No sound of waves, folding and unfolding toward land. No current echoing in my ears.
The beating heart of the sea had stopped.
Shaking myself more solidly awake, I didn’t know which way was up. In the stillness of black water, I lost light. Above, below, sideways?
I circled back around, searching for the ripple of warmth that had brought me here. But it, too, had vanished.
How long had I been underwater?
Tiny hooks of panic threatened to latch inside me, and I tried to calculate the time in my head to keep calm. My air reserves, the lowest lobes of my lungs, oxygenated my blood without breathing, allowing me to sleep underwater. But awake, Naiads could go only thirty minutes without a fresh breath. Perhaps a bit more—but not much. I tried to estimate how long I might’ve followed the warm thread of water before falling asleep. Not enough to send panic through my head just yet. Twenty minutes, perhaps?
Which meant I had ten minutes to find the surface.
Twelve, if I was lucky.
