Once the water was a little deeper, Ector submerged himself. He gently tugged on her arm to lead her under with him. Instinctively, she drew in a deep breath.

“The suit will provide you with air,” Kane said. “Just breathe normally. You don’t need to worry, Kathryn.”

“Just habit, I guess,” she said, cheeks heating a bit. And despite Kane’s reassurance, it was a difficult instinct to resist as she followed Ector under the water; the most primal part of her brain demanded she take in as big a breath as she could because peoplecouldn’tbreathe underwater.

The sound of moving water rushed in around her, undercut by the distant, rumbling thunder of crashing waves, but it wasn’t overwhelming—it seemed a natural, almost comforting sound. She recalled it well from her youth, when she used to swim and play on the beach often. But that didn’t stop her anxiety as they swam farther from shore. She took a few more deep, calming breaths and focused her attention on Ector, who was the one constant, truly familiar thing within this new experience.

He was also the one thing she could really see as they moved steadily deeper; the setting sun had already been touching the horizon by the time she’d donned the diving suit, and its light barely penetrated the water now. Kathryn knew she wasn’t more than a few dozen meters from land, but the slowly thickening darkness and her shrinking range of view served as a reminder that the ocean was near infinite compared to her. She and Ector were as insignificant as two drops of water here. As the tide swept inland and Ector led her against it, a small part of her wanted to ride that current back to solid ground.

But she wasn’t going to give in to that rogue urge. She refused to let fear dictate even one more decision in her life.

She squeezed Ector’s hand a little tighter and continued onward. Before long, her awareness had expanded beyond her tight focus on her husband, and she realized just how easy it was to move through the water despite not having swum in years. Her limbs flowed without resistance—as though she were in open air—and she found that her movements were propelling her without difficulty; Ector was leading her, but he was by no means pulling her along.

“I don’t feel like I’m in water at all,” she said.

“Part of this suit’s design,” replied Kane. “It absorbs and redirects various sources of energy, including the pressure of the water around you and your own movements, to help ease your passage and propel you through the water. It’s all invisible energy fields and whatnot.”

“Oh. That sounds…complicated.”

Kane laughed. “For anyone unfamiliar with the basic principles at work, it must be. But this is relatively basic technology. By modern standards, it’s utterly primitive. I don’t mean any offense, Kathryn, or to seem like I am insulting your intelligence.”

“No offense—nor insult—taken, Kane. You and I are from very different worlds—just like me and Ector. Of course, we’ll all have had different experiences and educations.”

“I must say, Kathryn, that you’re proving to be more pleasant company than I can recall ever having enjoyed. And, to be honest… I’m a damned computer and even I find all the science behind this suit woefully dry and boring. You’re not missing out on much.”

Kathryn chuckled. Even when she’d first encountered Kane—then as a voice emanating from a floating ball of light projected from Theo’s wrist—it had been hard not to think of him as a person. He was at least as much of a person as any human or kraken she’d ever met.

She allowed herself to finally take in her surroundings and accept fully that she was really here, that she really was doing this, and that, despite some of her lingering instincts, she wasfine.

She was okay with her vision being limited in all directions; it forced her to focus on the here and now, on the immediate. Above, the surface shimmered in brilliant, ceaseless motion, lit up by the last rays of the setting sun. The sky beyond it was already darkening toward purple. To the sides, the water was a blue that darkened rapidly with distance. It was difficult to estimate, but she guessed that she couldn’t see much beyond fifteen meters—and it felt like that range was gradually diminishing.

But she could see the ocean floor below her. It was largely barren, little more than grass, sand, and chunks of bare stone at first, but that changed as she and Ector finally broke free of the waves that had threatened to sweep them back to shore.

There were living creatures in the water. Fish of various shapes and sizes swam alone and in schools; odd creatures, many with shells—some of which were segmented—scurried along the bottom; and an increasing number of plants grew from the seafloor or the rocks jutting out of it. At least she assumed they were plants—most swayed freely with the ocean current, but some seemed to have much more deliberate patterns of movement she didn’t think were the result of flowing water.

Of all the creatures she saw, she recognized only a handful; she could only imagine how many more species might’ve been visible in the light of day.

Her wonder had soon destroyed any of her remaining misgivings. She was breathing as easily as she would’ve been on land, she felt fast and weightless—as though she were flying—and everything was new and wonderful.

When Ector released her hand a short while later, she didn’t panic. He swam ahead of Kathryn and turned to smile back at her. She returned the smile.

Though the water and sky were still darkening, both were calm, and she had Ector and Kane—and Kane had maintained that faint but unmistakable yellow outline around Ector’s body, making the kraken stand out against the encroaching darkness. Besides, Ector didn’t stray too far away as he continued forward, and it provided Kathryn her first real look at him moving in his element. On land, Ector and the other kraken moved with odd gaits. They didn’t walk as much as drag themselves along in a contradictory blend of awkwardness and grace she’d long suspected possible only due to their immense physical strength.

But in the water… Well, she couldn’t help but stare. The tentacles that sometimes seemed erratic or uncontrolled on land were precise and fluid here. They flared out wide, revealing their paler, suction cup lined undersides and stretching the skirt-like skin between their uppermost portions. Each time they snapped together again—drawing into a neat, tight bundle that tapered toward its end—Ector surged forward. He’d let those bursts of momentum gradually decay before repeating the process, creating a hypnotic rhythm.

He kept an easy pace that allowed her to comfortably follow within a few meters of him. She knew from the times he’d left the boat to scout that he was capable of far greater speed than this; what was it like to be able to glide through the water that way?

Kathryn was in awe of him again. She’d found him plenty appealing on land, but seeing him like this increased that appeal tenfold. Yet despite her awe, she didn’t miss the way he kept his head and eyes in constant motion, as though perpetually scanning their surroundings. She had no doubt that his kind could see better—and farther—than humans under water. How much did he see right now that she couldn’t? How many of the ocean’s secrets were hidden in plain sight, masked from Kathryn both by her dwindling field of vision and her lack of familiarity with this underwater world?

“Should you require a light—or some other enhancement to your vision—let me know,” Kane said.

After swimming for so long in silence, his voice shattered Kathryn’s thoughts. It took a few moments for her to register what he’d said. Once she realized it, her eyes flared, and her heart sped. “Are you…are you in my mind, Kane?”

“What? No, Kathryn. That’s not how these suits operate.”

The tightness that had gripped her chest eased just a bit. “So how’d you know I was thinking about vision?”

“I didn’t,” he replied. “It’s getting dark, and human eyes are rubbish at night, especially under water. I just wanted you to know there are options, should you feel the need to explore them.”