Page 93 of Whispers of the Deep

He shoved her toward it. "That's your problem, achromo. I got you here. Now get yourself inside."

Was this a trick? Did he want to see how she got back into the city? Because she'd already used the service elevator once, and the damn thing had barely gotten her into the city the first time. Maybe if she found another one, she'd get lucky. But she really didn't think there were any exciting new ways to get into her old home.

Her rebreather kicked against her face.

Every fiber of her being froze in horror. It had never done that before. Not once. And then the air she was breathing got real thin, a little like it had in the tunnels when Arges had cut off their air supply.

She pointed to the rebreather on her face. "My air. I think it's broken."

He swam a little farther away from her, lifting his hands and looking like he was incapable of helping. "I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. I said I would get you home. This is as close as I can get to the city without your people attacking me."

"But I can't–” She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to still the anxiety. "I can't breathe."

"The sea is no place for your kind, achromo. This is proof of that."

And then he was gone. He spun around, flicked that tail, and left her all alone where she was clearly going to drown.

Fuck.

"Fucking hell," she repeated out loud before swimming as fast as she could toward the nearest window.

There was nothing she could do now except stay alive. Maybe, if she was lucky, her own people could get her inside. So she swam, harder than she ever had before, with numb fingers and toes that she was afraid she would lose. And then she attached herself to the glass, holding on for dear life as she pounded on it. Again and again. Hitting the glass with all her rage, fear, and sadness that life would never be the same again.

Not without him.

Thirty-Six

Arges

He stayed there, lying in the sand, for weeks. Staring up at the darkness of the sea and swearing that he would get revenge for what they had done to him. For what they had done to them.

He had no idea where she was. He’d heard the moment Maketes returned. His brother had come home to much fanfare, but Maketes had remained quiet. Even when people asked him what he had done. So many of his people wanted the dirty details of how badly she had screamed. Had she writhed in the water while she died, trying her best to get a hint of air that her kind could not breathe?

It hurt to listen to them be so cruel. He knew that their limited knowledge claimed that her people were monsters. They were taught from the day they were born that the achromos were the enemy.

But none of them had spoken with her. They didn’t know what it was like to see her expression soften every time she saw something beautiful, nor did they know the tears that always welled in her eyes when he brought her a fish to eat. They didn’t see the bravery or the heart that burned so hot in her core sometimes he swore he could see it glowing in her chest.

He remained where he was. Tied up and fed only when Mitéra deigned to remember him. Every time she remembered he existed, she brought him a small fish and then asked him if he was willing to give up this fight.

He’d almost taken off a couple of her fingers every time she asked him such a thing, and she hated that he hadn’t given up yet. But he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. The rope burns along his scales should have told her enough about how he felt.

Arges would never stop fighting to get Mira back.

A soft sound near his head caught his attention. He had taken to lying on his back while his tail floated up in the water. It made him look almost dead, or perhaps that he had finally succumbed to the exhaustion. But he only wanted to see who was the first person brave enough to come up to him.

Nerves firing like lightning throughout his body, he forced himself to remain still and limp. He couldn’t let whoever was approaching him know just how aware he actually was.

“Arges,” a voice hissed. “I know you’re awake.”

“Maketes,” he snarled without looking. “How badly did she writhe when you killed her?”

“Pound sand. You know I didn’t hurt the girl. You didn’t want me to.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I brought her back to her home.” Maketes shifted, and he could see the frond of a fluke float over his head before it was ripped back. “She said there was some issue with the thing that let her breathe, but that was as far as I let her get. I swam off before someone could see me. The last thing we need is two warriors missing an arm.”

“You let her drown?” Arges felt all the lights in his body going out. One by one. They flickered, guttering as if his last hope had disappeared. He couldn’t imagine the fear she must have felt, the way she would have fought for air because Mira always fought. Always.

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