15. Trust
Trust
Sigurd
Solveig’s question is still with me when I return to the lower airlock.
I cycle into the dry chamber, wait for the seawater to drain, then shift once the pressure wards settle.
By the time I pull on the waterproof suit from the changing alcove, I’ve stopped pretending I can spend another day avoiding Valerie.
I’m fastening the last cuff when the inner door opens. Ysra comes through first, followed by a figure encased in black rubber, metal joints, and a broad glass visor.
My hands stop.
I recognize the old pressure armor at once. Ysra wore it for years before her body finished adapting to the deep, and now Valerie is standing inside it.
“Valerie, what are you doing in that suit?” I cross the chamber and stop in front of her. The reinforced chest piece leaves me nowhere useful to put my hands, so I settle for examining the seals instead.
Her face is clear behind the visor, and she looks entirely too pleased with my reaction. “Ysra spent the morning teaching me how everything works. We checked the seals twice. I’d like to see what’s outside these walls instead of hearing why I shouldn’t.”
The pressure ward is steady, the temperature seal is holding, and the breathing enchantment shows no fluctuation. I crouch to check one of the boots anyway, running two fingers around the reinforced edge before I straighten.
“The suit will protect you from the pressure, but it won’t make you steady on the seabed. You’ve never moved under this much water before.”
“I know.” Valerie shifts carefully inside the armor. “That’s why I asked Ysra to teach me instead of walking outside alone.”
Ysra leans one shoulder against the wall beside us. “She followed every instruction I gave her, and the suit is working properly. I wouldn’t have brought her down here otherwise.”
There’s nothing I can object to without proving my mother right all over again. I look at Valerie through the visor and finally understand that the suit is not the only reason she came down here.
“You’ve been trying to find me.”
“You keep disappearing whenever I get close enough for us to have an actual conversation.” She pauses, adjusting one weighted boot before meeting my gaze again. “I got tired of waiting for you to decide.”
The words land too cleanly to argue with. I glance toward the outer doors, where several feet of stone and steel are the only things separating us from the trench.
“You’re right. I should have asked what you wanted instead of deciding what you could handle.” Admitting it feels unpleasantly close to hearing my mother say the same thing, but Valerie deserves it from me. “If you still want to go outside, stay close until you understand how the suit moves.”
“I can do that.”
Ysra steps in before I can find another reason to hesitate. She checks Valerie’s collar, then presses a hand briefly against one of the shoulder seals.
“Keep your knees loose until the support wards take some of the load. Don’t fight the suit if the water pushes you sideways, and pay attention to where Sigurd puts his feet. The boots will feel much heavier outside.”
Valerie nods inside the helmet. “Loose knees, careful footing, and no trying to out-stubborn the ocean. I’ll remember.”
Ysra gives the shoulder plate one last firm pat before turning to me. “She has plenty of charge for a short excursion. Bring her back before she gets tired enough to make mistakes.”
“I will.”
Ysra leaves us alone in the staging room. The silence that follows feels different from the deliberate distance I’ve kept between us for the past few weeks.
“I meant what I said,” she tells me. “I want to see your world.”
I look once more at the seals around her collar, then reach for the outer controls. “The chamber floods quickly. Stay where you are until the wards settle, and let me know immediately if anything feels wrong.”
Water surges through the vents and climbs over Valerie’s boots. She braces as it reaches her knees and waist, but the suit holds steady around her. When the water covers the visor, her eyes widen at the sudden change. There’s no fear in them.
The chamber finishes filling, and I send a low vibration toward the enchantment in her collar. “Can you hear me clearly?”
Her answer comes back slightly altered by the magic but perfectly understandable. “I can. Ysra warned me it would feel strange, but that wasn’t a very useful description.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
The outer doors grind apart. Dark water stretches beyond the threshold. Valerie stares through it for several seconds before taking her first careful step onto the seabed.
I move beside her.
Her first few steps are careful but clumsy. The weighted boots sink slightly into the ocean floor. The reinforced joints resist when she tries to take the same long stride she would on dry ground. By the third step, one boot catches behind her and forces her to stop.
“Shorter steps,” I tell her. “Set one foot before you move the other.”
Valerie tries again. She reduces her stride and gives each boot a moment to settle against the seabed before shifting forward. The movement is still awkward, but the suit stops dragging her backward with every step.
“That’s better,” Valerie says. “It feels less like walking and more like negotiating with every part of my body.”
“You’ll stop noticing the joints once you find the rhythm.”
She tests another step, then another, gradually moving beside me without having to think through every motion.
The trench is darker beyond the fortress lights.
Pale sand collects in the hollows between rough shelves of stone, and small creatures retreat into cracks as our boots disturb the seabed.
Valerie keeps turning her helmet from one side to the other, watching anemones fold away from us.
A narrow school of silver fish disappears beneath an overhang.
I spent so much time thinking about what could hurt her down here that I never considered what she might enjoy.
A sweep of water lifts silt across our path. I move closer and gesture for her to stay near my shoulder until it passes.
Valerie adjusts her footing without trouble this time. “You can stop checking my boots every few seconds. I’m getting the hang of it.”
“You’ve been outside for ten minutes. I’m allowed to be cautious.”
“That sounds suspiciously like permission you gave yourself.”
I glance through the visor and find her smiling. “I’m learning.”
The answer quiets her teasing. She studies me for a moment before turning back toward the trench.
“This is what I wanted, Sigurd. Not the suit specifically.” Her steps slow as the ground slopes beneath us. “I wanted you to stop shutting me out because you’d already decided what I could handle.”
I look ahead while I consider the safest answer and realize there isn’t one. “You shouldn’t have had to come down here to make me understand that.”
Valerie doesn’t press further. She simply keeps walking beside me.
The seabed breaks into uneven shelves farther ahead. A narrow fissure runs between them, with enough moving water below to make the footing unpleasant even for me.
I stop before the first ledge. “The next section is rougher. I’m going to tether you until we’re across.”
Valerie studies the gap, then shifts her feet into a more stable position. “Tell me where to step.”
I let one tentacle uncoil from beneath my jacket and guide it around her waist. The sensitive underside settles against the reinforced suit instead of warm skin, but I still feel every adjustment she makes inside the armor.
I keep my grip firm enough to steady her and lead her onto the first shelf.
“Left foot near mine. There’s a flatter section just ahead of you.”
She follows the instruction, waits for the boot to settle, then brings the other foot across. The next ledge is narrower, and I tighten the tentacle around her as the water pushes through the fissure below us.
Valerie glances down at the limb around her waist. “You can hold me tighter if you need to. I’m not going to complain.”
The words send a far less practical reaction through me than the situation deserves. I guide her across the remaining shelf without answering something I’ll regret.
When we reach level ground, I loosen my grip but don’t remove the tentacle immediately. Valerie doesn’t ask me to.
A group of jellyfish drifts from behind a rock formation before either of us says anything else. Their translucent bells pulse softly through the water, casting brief blue light across the darkness.
Valerie stops and leans forward inside the armor. One hand lifts instinctively toward them before she catches herself.
“Don’t go any farther. The ground still drops on your left.”
“I’m only looking.” Her hand settles against the front of the suit as another jellyfish passes nearby. “They’re incredible.”
I stay beside her while she watches them. Light moves across the visor for a few seconds, enough to show the fascination on her face before the creatures drift farther into the trench.
This is nothing like the version of Valerie I imagined down here. She isn’t enduring the abyss because of me. She likes being here.
“It’s peaceful,” she says after a while. “I thought I’d be terrified, but everything on the surface feels very far away.”
Guilt presses hard beneath my ribs.
Rakan is still working on the basin. Lotan has promised nothing beyond considering the offer once the water is ready. Valerie believes Saltweather is safe because I let her believe it.
I should tell her now.
Instead, I look at the ease in her face and hesitate. “The deep has fewer complications,” I say instead. “Most of the time.”
Valerie looks toward me through the visor, then back at the jellyfish as the last of them disappear into the dark.
We turn toward the fortress. Her steps are slower on the way back, but she no longer has to think through every movement before taking it. By the time the outer wall rises ahead of us, I only have to steady her once.
I open the outer airlock, and warm light spreads across the seabed. Valerie pauses at the threshold instead of stepping inside.