Page 79 of Song of the Abyss

Perhaps they were both mad. Lost in the future the ocean had promised them when they both knew it wouldn’t be so easy to catch that future. No matter what they did, there was a journey ahead of them that could not and would not be stopped.

He was one of the People of Water. He would always fight against her kind, just as Arges still fought. But Mira had no real ties to her people, whereas Anya did. Anya loved her city and every person in it.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have fought so hard to keep them all alive. She wouldn’t have struggled and pulled herself up every time something had gone wrong. She wouldn’t have fought tooth and nail to bring her father down and liberate them from the leader that was destroying their lives.

She wouldn’t have fled that city with a monster.

Tightening his arm around her, he relaxed back into the kelp and told himself that this was a place out of time. He could lay with her wrapped around him. He could pretend that they didn’t need to leave this place. All he had to do was feel her.

And oh, he did. The soft press of her belly against his. The sensation of her ribs moving with each breath that he gave her. Her tiny fingers toying with the ends of his hair, gently separating the knots and then draping the strands out across his mangled shoulder.

Daios told himself that she didn’t even see the old wound. That she touched him without fear because his arm was still there. That he was a whole man who could do whatever it took to keep her safe and happy. Together, they would live out their lives without struggle or fear. It was just... them. Breathing in the ocean as he exhaled into her lungs.

He’d forgotten what true relaxation felt like. How long had it been since he didn’t feel like he needed his guard up? But he knew this place like he knew his own heart. There were no dangers here that he had to keep his ears and senses awake for. He could open his gills wide and fill himself with the scent of her. For later. For when all this fell apart again.

“What happened?” she asked again some time later, her words muffled by the water that pressed against her lips.

He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to say anything at all. He just wanted to sit here and hold her and listen to her breathe. But he knew that wasn’t possible, not when his little kalon had a curiosity that burned through her.

Sighing, he tightened his grip on her waist. “I trust my brothers told you about the depthstriders?”

“Barely,” she grumbled. Then she reached up to adjust Bitsy, tapping the glass as though his words hadn’t come through clearly. “They don’t like to tell me much. I don’t think they trust me yet.”

“They probably won’t for a while.” Though he hated letting go of her, he also knew that it was important for him to speak her language.

Arges had never done that for Mira. And suddenly, he wanted to be better than his brother at something.

So he nudged her, rolling her over his broad chest until she lay in the crook of his shorter arm. He braced her there, grateful for the wetsuit that prevented her from being pressed skin to skin with his gnarled scars. Then he lifted his hand, and brokenly signed what words he knew as he spoke.

“Depthstriders are like us and not. The woman who controls our pods, we call her Mitera, she is of their kind as well. They see the future in a way that none of us can. They have... contacted me before.” He knew so few of these words. Frustration sank into his voice before she reached up and cupped his hand in hers. Together, they signed the other words, as she taught him what was the right way to move his hand, and filled in the words when he needed a second. “I failed them before, and I fear I will fail them again.”

“Why would you be afraid? What are they asking you to do?”

He untangled their fingers and ran his hand down his face in frustration. “They do not often tell us what to do, only what is to come. We are meant to discern for ourselves what is the correct next step, and from there, we do what we think is right.”

“They don’t sound like very good oracles,” she grumbled.

With a soft chuckle, he shook his head at her blasphemy. “Perhaps not. But I have endured some kind of friendship with one for years, so they have their place.”

“You’re friends with one?” She sat up on his chest, her hair floating in front of her face before she shoved it back. “What do you mean, friends?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking. They are not a species of creature who readily maintain relationships with anyone. They are solitary creatures.” He couldn’t help himself. Daios smoothed her hair back from her face as it started to float forward again, if only so he could feel his fingers dancing past her ear. “But Fortis and I have worked together before. I do not enjoy disappointing people, if you have not noticed that about me yet.”

“Oh, I have seen it.”

To his utter delight, she mimicked what he was doing. Her fingers moved through his hair, gently pressing against his skull before dragging her nails down the back of his neck. He arched into her touch, letting his eyes drift shut as she trailed her light touch down his face and the delicate frills that framed it.

“You all have such interesting names,” she murmured, her voice light as rain. “They all seem to end in a hiss.”

“Most do. They all have great meaning to them. My people believe that names have power.”

“Of course they do. Humans don’t believe that as much, but quite a few of us believe there is power in names.”

He blinked one of his eyes open, keeping that narrow-eyed suspicion on her. “What does Anya mean?”

Her face split into a bright smile. “I don’t really think it’s as deep as your name meanings. Anya means ‘grace’, I have been told. I did not grow into that name very well.”

He disagreed. For their people, grace was something that was given in someone else’s hour of need. She certainly had done that for him.

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