Chapter 9
Maelis
By morning, the storm had passed. The sky outside the infirmary window was scrubbed clean, an endless stretch of blue broken only by drifting white clouds. The palm trees still leaned sideways, salt-crusted and battered, but the wind had lost its teeth.
I, however, was still stuck in bed.
Tyrone had fussed over me since dawn, checking my vitals, making me sip water and nibble dry biscuits, reminding me every few minutes that I’d nearly drowned. I was grateful, really – but also bored out of my skull. There are only so many ways to count ceiling tiles before you start to lose it.
At least my dive camera had survived. Tyrone had retrieved my gear, setting it on the chair by my bed.
The wetsuit reeked of salt and algae, but the little waterproof housing with my camera inside was mercifully intact.
I powered it on, fast-forwarding through the first dull minutes of me swimming along the reef.
When the footage reached the cave, my breath hitched. Seeing it from the safety of the infirmary was surreal. I pulled the blanket closer to myself. The torchlight darted over jagged rock, the silt clouded the view, and then came the collapse – my world turning into a storm of dust and shadow.
But it wasn’t the rockfall that made me sit up straighter. It was the bubbles.
On the recording, they rose in streams along the cave wall. Not the erratic fizz of trapped air pockets. No, these were steady, deliberate, pulsing with a rhythm. Five bursts, pause. Five bursts, pause. Over and over again, even as the rocks crumbled.
I scrubbed back and replayed it, leaning so close my forehead almost hit the screen. It wasn’t natural. Couldn’t be.
A shiver ran down my spine. I’d thought the bubbles were just a trick of the currents in the moment, but now, safe and dry, I could see it clearly: a pattern. Almost like counting.
I sank back into the pillows, clutching the camera to my chest. Whatever those bubbles were, they hadn’t been random. And something told me the finman – Cerban – had noticed them too.
I was still staring at the looping footage when the door creaked open and Tyrone slipped inside, balancing a tray with a steaming mug and another round of dry biscuits.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” he chided gently.
“I am,” I said, though the way my heart was racing at the sight on the screen made it a lie. I turned the camera so he could see. “Look. Tell me I’m not imagining this.”
He set the tray down and leaned over my shoulder. On the little display, the bubbles rose again in their strange rhythm – five bursts, pause, five bursts, pause.
Tyrone frowned. “That’s… odd. Could be gas trapped in the rock, but I’ve never seen it come out that evenly before.”
“So you see it too. I thought maybe I was losing it.”
“No, you’re not losing it.” He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck. “But whatever it is, it’s not my field. I patch up jellyfish stings, Maelis, I don’t explain geology.”
Still, the look in his eyes said he found it just as unsettling as I did.
I sank back against the pillows. “It doesn’t feel natural. Like it was… counting.”
“Counting?” He gave a small snort, though there wasn’t much humour in it. “That’s a stretch.”
“Maybe,” I muttered, but the unease gnawed at me.
Tyrone busied himself with the mug, pressing it into my hands. “Drink. Hot tea fixes most things.”
"Do they teach that in nursing school?"
He laughed and busied himself with the monitors tracking my vitals.
I sipped obediently. The warmth helped, though it didn’t stop my brain racing.
“There’s something else you should know,” Tyrone said after a moment. His voice had shifted, quieter now. “Pam was on a call last night. With Paul, and your rescuer. Cerban.”
I stilled. “And?”
His expression was troubled. “She wasn’t pleased. The finfolk are under strict orders not to interfere with staff. You know that. After what Kelon did… Well. Cerban’s actions are being treated as a serious breach.”
My stomach dropped. “He saved my life.”
"I know. And Pam and Paul both know that as well, but they have to stand firm on this.
If they ignore what he did, that will open the door to other finmen going against the rules.
For now, Cerban is confined to quarters.
He's not allowed to be around humans, not even men.
No contact with staff. No exceptions. I don't know if they put a time limit on it, but for now, that's what it is.”
Confined. The word sat heavy in my chest.
I closed my eyes, replaying the moment in the cave when his mouth pressed to mine, sharing breath, sharing life. The moment he carried me through the storm as if nothing could tear me from his arms.
“No exceptions,” I echoed softly.
Tyrone shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. I know he’s the reason you’re alive. But the rules are what they are.”
Rules. Always rules.
I opened my eyes and stared back at the tiny screen where the bubbles pulsed on an endless loop. Patterns in the dark, waiting to be deciphered.
And somehow, I knew Cerban was the only one who could help me understand them.
I set the mug down with a little more force than necessary. “Tyrone.”
He glanced up, wary. “Hmm?”
“Can you get a message to him?”
His eyes widened. “Absolutely not. Pam was very clear–”
“I don’t care what Pam said.” My voice was hoarse but steady. “I just… I need to thank him. Properly. Not while half-drowning in a cave, not while hooked up to your machine here. I need to look him in the eye and say it.”
Tyrone hesitated, lips pressed into a thin line.
“You know me,” I pressed. “I’m not reckless.” His eyebrow shot up, and I sighed. “Okay, not usually reckless. But this isn’t about breaking rules for fun. He risked everything for me. If Pam wants to lecture someone, she can lecture me too.”
For a long moment he studied me, and I thought he’d refuse. Then he muttered something under his breath and fiddled with his clipboard. “I’ll… see what I can do. No promises.”
Relief unfurled in my chest. “Thank you.”
He shook his head, muttering again as he gathered the tray. “You’re trouble, Maelis. That finman’s not the only one who’s going to end up in hot water.”
As the door clicked shut behind him, I smiled faintly, settling back into the pillows. Trouble or not, I wasn’t going to let Cerban’s defiance be for nothing.
With Tyrone gone, I went back to watching the camera footage while slowly sipping my tea. The rhythm was so obvious now, it was hard to believe I hadn't spotted it back in the cave. But then, I'd had other concerns then. Like staying alive.
Without the bubbles, I wouldn't have found the cave. And if the cave hadn't collapsed, I would have noticed the pattern.
I tried to relax, tried to sleep, but my thoughts kept returning to the cave. I'd never been that close to death before.
Not really. Scrapes, stings, bruises – those were part of the job. But staring at the last few breaths in my tank, lungs seizing while the rock pressed in on all sides… that had been different.
For a while in that darkness, I’d accepted it. That this was how it ended. That my body would be another secret the sea kept, swallowed whole like so many before me.
The thought left me cold, even beneath Tyrone’s triple blanket.
And yet… the bubbles.
If they’d been random, I’d have dismissed them, buried the memory along with the fear. But they weren’t. They pulsed with intent. They had led me to the cave, and when the collapse came, they’d revealed the air pocket that bought me precious minutes.
Maybe it was madness, but I couldn’t see them as coincidence any more. They’d turned the cave from a tomb into a puzzle. A message.
And puzzles, unlike tombs, could be solved.
The idea steadied me. I wasn’t ready to dive again – not yet. The thought of sliding back into that narrow passage made my chest seize. But one day I would. And when I did, I wouldn’t just be a diver chasing thrill and beauty. I’d be chasing answers.
That cave had nearly killed me. The bubbles gave me a reason to go back. A way to make the fear mean something. To change a painful memory into something positive.
I drained the last of the tea, set the mug aside, and whispered into the quiet room, “Next time, I’ll be ready.”