Into the Deep
Chapter Twenty-Five
SADIE
It’s several hours before Kyros returns. He drifts into the cave as if nothing happened, his movements calm and easy.
“The surge has passed,” he says. “We can continue.”
I shift, crossing my arms over my chest. Is he not going to mention what happened between us? Fine. I follow him out of the cave, refusing to think about it. If he’s not going to make a big deal about it, why should I?
“How much farther?” I ask.
“It’s not far.” Kyros pauses. “Would you like me to carry you?”
I’d like him to do it without my asking.
I shake my head. “No. I can swim.”
We reach the trench within an hour. It’s…daunting.
The crack in the ocean floor stretches about a hundred feet in either direction, but only in the center is it wide enough to swim into. I can’t see too far inside. It’s too dark.
Kyros pauses at the edge, his lips flattening into a straight line as he peers into the dark abyss. I linger beside him, his earlier confession ringing in my ears. He said he doesn’t want to bring me to the siphon. Did he mean it?
It doesn’t really matter.
If he doesn’t, his pod will die. All those children, with their colorful tails and happy chirps, will die. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
My heart slams against my ribcage.
“This is it,” Kyros mutters.
“I’ve gathered.”
“It opens up after the first hundred or so feet, so you’ll want to stick close to the trench wall.”
“Good to know.”
Kyros drops his shoulders, his gaze meeting mine. Gone is his usual callous demeanor. For once, he’s letting his emotions show. He’s tortured.
“Sadie…” he starts.
I shake my head. Whatever he has to say will only make things worse.
He draws in a breath, then drifts into the trench.
I follow.
The faint light filtering from above vanishes quickly, swallowed by the depth as the water around us turns thick and endless. Within minutes, I’ve lost sight of Kyros. He warned me that it would be dark, but the reality of this obscurity still catches me off guard.
It reminds me of drowning.
I extend a hand, and the water beside me shifts before fingers curl around mine and guide me against a warm chest.
Kyros carries me.
The trench wall is rough and jagged. I let a hand brush against it, needing to feel something solid. The stone is rigid in places, slick in others. There are occasional gleams of algae, but they provide little light.
My ears pop.
Then ache.
Kyros slows. “Are you okay?”
“Peachy.”
The water is heavier here, like the trench itself is trying to drag me down. Kyros doesn’t seem to have an issue with it, expertly weaving us in and out of the currents. If it weren’t for the violent pressure changes near the siphon, I suspect he’d make this trip on his own.
My eyes gradually adjust, just enough to make out Kyros’s vague shape. He’s looking around, his head swiveling.
“Can you actually see down here?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Fully?”
“Not fully.” He spares me a quick glance. “But better than you.”
We continue downward.
My eyes adjust the best they can, but it isn’t enough. Shapes come into focus seconds too late, and the ridges in the stone blur together. Every shadow feels like it might be moving, but that’s likely just my imagination.
I hope so, at least.
The deepweaver is here…somewhere.
“How much—”
Kyros slaps a palm over my mouth, then quietly chirps.
Quiet. The deepweaver hears.
We descend for several more minutes before Kyros slows to a stop. The pressure is so heavy, I can barely move, and when Kyros releases me, my body immediately begins to sink.
He catches my arm, pulling me back up.
Swimming down to the siphon will be easy. Swimming back up? That’ll be the challenge.
Kyros’s expression is unreadable in the dark, but I can tell he’s looking at me.
He whispers. This is as far as I can go.
My stomach drops.
I knew this was coming.
I look down, trying and failing to make sense of what lies ahead. He expects me to go down there alone? I shiver, but not from the cold.
The siphon is lodged inside a crack in the wall. He guides me to the trench wall. And the core should be illuminated. You won’t miss it.
I swallow.
Kyros continues. You can do this. I will be here. I will wait.
He tightens his grip on my arm, almost like he’s debating not letting me go, before finally releasing me. His fingers fall away, the ghost of his touch lingering for only a brief second before cold water replaces it.
“If I die down there,” I whisper-hiss, “I’m haunting you.”
Fingers graze my chin. They’re gone in a flash.
You won’t die, Kyros says. Stay close to the wall. Do not swim into open water.
I nod. “And if the deepweaver finds me…?”
Then scream.
“Scream?”
Yes. Even in the dark, I see Kyros nod. Scream, and I will come.
I quirk a brow. “You can’t. You’ll pass out and be eaten.”
Perhaps.
Perhaps? Kyros is full of shit. If he comes for me, he’s as good as dead. We both know it.
I stare down into the void. Is it too late to change my mind?
Yes.
I begin my descent, losing sight of Kyros within seconds. Panic mounts the further I go, but I force myself to continue, dragging my fingers along the wall. It’s the only sense of anything I have.
After several minutes, my hand slips over a bump slick with algae. I freeze until my heartbeat calms enough to continue.
This is fine.
I’m fine.
Still, I stop. My fingers dig into the stone as panic claws up my throat. I can still go back. Nobody, not even Kyros, can force me to continue. After everything, I don’t think Kyros will kill me.
He doesn’t have it in him. Not now.
But I can’t bring myself to do it. I visualize the children of the pod—their cheerful laughter and vibrant tails—and the dying crops. I’m doing this for them.
I keep descending.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Deeper.
The pressure builds, a deep ache in my skull that pulses with every breath. I swallow against the tightness in my throat and keep going.
Where the fuck is this siphon? I must be close.
Several more minutes pass before I see the glow. It’s faint at first, just barely there. I follow it.
Then I hit a pressure shift.
At least, the first one that affects me. It’s subtle at first, a light dizziness and a flutter of nausea low in my stomach. Then the water itself seems to change around me, growing warmer by several degrees. I drop my chin to my chest, suck in several deep breaths, then continue.
The glow brightens as I descend. So does a loud humming. It’s a low, deep sound. Almost mechanical, but not quite. The vibrations rumble through my chest and rattle my teeth, and they grow louder the closer I get to the glowing light.
This must be the core.
It’s farther than it looks. I grit my teeth as I continue down, and bubbles erupt from my nose when I finally reach it.
Oh.
This is vile.
The core is wedged into the trench wall, nestled deep in a crack. I’ll have to stick my entire arm in there. Pale light pulses through the core in sluggish waves, illuminating a knotted mass of slick, translucent material that looks half-coral, half-organ.
Veins of black run through the center, branching out like rot.
It looks like a heartbeat.
And I have to touch it.
My stomach heaves. Did Kyros know about this? And he didn’t warn me? What a dick.
I act fast, shoving my fist into the thing. My hand sinks in with a wet, dragging sensation that makes bile surge into my throat, and black fluid immediately spills from the sides.
The core convulses.
Fucking convulses.
I jerk back so hard that I fly out into the open water.
Fuck. I kick out my legs, pushing back to the trench wall. The core is still convulsing, and I shake my head before shoving my fist into it again.
And again.
The water around me chills with another pressure shift. They move? This one is violent, making my vision swim, but I refuse to let it distract me. I need to destroy this damned thing and get the fuck out of here.
Cracks race through the glowing mass as I tear into it, blackness spilling faster now. The core’s pulsing turns erratic before shuddering and collapsing in on itself. The humming comes to an abrupt halt. Then the glow dies, and darkness crashes back in.
Is that it?
My entire fist and arm are coated in slimy stickiness, which I suspect is the guts of some sort of living thing. Kyros left out important details. I suspect intentionally.
Asshole.
I peer down, double-checking that I haven’t missed anything, before trying to swim upward. It’s hard, practically impossible.
The pressure weighs down my limbs, leaving me with no choice but to climb the trench wall. I dig my fingers into the shallow cracks and use them to pull myself up. I try to kick my legs, but they hardly move.
It’s a slow—and painful—climb.
I’m not even sure I’m moving. It sure doesn’t feel like it. At this rate, it will take hours to return to Kyros. The deepweaver is going to find me. I’m not an idiot. I’m sure the abrupt, jolting silence that followed the dying core drew its attention.
I grit my teeth, my shoulders burning with the effort it takes to climb.
Another pressure shift hits. My eyelids flutter shut, and I bite my bottom lip so hard, it bleeds.
Stay awake, Sadie.
I give myself exactly five seconds to recover, then drag my palm up the stone in search of another divot. There isn’t one. I’ve reached a smooth stretch of rock—not a single dip or crack to be found. Shit. I can’t swim up, but if I release this wall, I’ll sink.
Should I call for Kyros? Would he even come? Probably not. He hardly knows me. Despite what he says, he won’t risk his life for me.
He’s probably already gone, having taken off the second the siphon stopped running and the Great Current his pod is so dependent on returned. He’s swimming home to his precious Seraya, leaving me here to die.
Bubbles erupt from my mouth as I release the trench wall, surrendering myself to the black void. I have no choice. I kick my legs and push upward, desperately trying to swim. I don’t need to make it far, just past this stretch of smooth rock.
It takes all my effort to swim—to force myself upward despite the pressure trying to push me down. I extend my arm, reach for the wall again, but find nothing.
No. No, no, no—
Where the fuck did it go? I swipe my hands through the water, faintly aware that I’m sinking as I search for the trench wall. It was just here. I only pushed an inch or two away.
I can’t have gone far.
But it’s so dark. I have no sense of space, and I spin around as I begin doubting the direction I’m facing. I’m not strong enough to swim. I have to climb.
Something shifts behind me. Stay calm. I’m panicking, imagining things that aren’t there.
I continue swiping my hands, searching for stone.
There’s another shift, and I go very, very still. It’s not panic. Something is here.
I’m not alone.