11. Drowned Rats #2
“Wren, huh?” He tilted his head and studied me. “Small and unassuming, just like your namesake.” He extended his hand. The malice he directed toward Griffon vanished from his demeanor. “Good to meet you, Wren. I’m Charis.”
His calloused fingers swallowed mine as we exchanged a handshake. A wry grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and in that instant, I knew I liked him. Anyone who could look at Griffon with that much disdain couldn't be all bad.
“What in the welkin are you doing with a wretch like him?” he asked, motioning toward Griffon.
“Trying to survive, apparently. Besides…being soaked to the bone, seasick, and half-starved is my idea of a dashing good time.”
The pause that followed went on for longer than was comfortable.
Was sarcasm not appreciated here? Because that would be unfortunate, as it was rapidly becoming my primary coping mechanism.
Finally, Charis lit up. “Ha! You’re a spunky one. Come on,” he motioned for us to follow, one sharp eye still on Griffon, who met the gaze without flinching. “You two look like drowned rats.”
“I prefer ‘artfully disheveled,’” I muttered, but followed along.
Griffon’s eyes flickered in my direction.
Charis led us across town, along narrow alleyways, through crowded squares, and over bridges arched gracefully over the waterways.
Shiny black gondolas glided down the canals that snaked through the city.
We passed balconies, shuttered windows, and flower boxes overflowing with the vibrant blooms of spring.
It was all so beautiful, I almost forgot I was cold, damp, and trudging alongside someone who ‘left death in his wake’. Unease crept in. That might explain all the weapons.
We entered a tall stucco building painted the color of an apricot on the edge of the city, with multiple wrought-iron balconies and a teal door.
The late midday sun cast long shadows through the arched windows, softening the flourishing plasterwork and gilded moldings of the lobby.
Charis turned down the hallway at the rear of the building and unlocked another teal door.
Griffon moved with purpose and was careful not to touch anything as Charis locked the door behind us.
The cramped foyer opened into an airy room with two tall, shuttered windows on either side of a large plaster fireplace.
The only piece of furniture in the room was a curved sofa in the shape of a semicircle.
I took in the comfortable space and sighed with relief.
For the first time in two days, there was a good chance we’d sleep comfortably.
I noticed Griffon watching me with a slight smirk on his face. I lowered my eyebrows in question. What now?
Charis reached up, grasped the patinated sconce on the wall next to me, pulled it down, then released it to return to its original position. The low whirring of spinning gears filled the room as the sofa began to move.
Startled, I jumped back. “What in the —”
The furniture piece rotated around on a sort of track. It stopped when it was facing the opposite direction—and revealed a hidden spiral staircase.
“—welkin,” I finished weakly.
Charis chuckled at my surprise. “That’s not the half of it.”
Following Charis, my boots clopped down on each metal step as we descended through a vertical tunnel.
It opened up, and at first, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing.
In front of the stair landing was an enormous curved window looking out on an underwater community. We were in a metal subaquatic chamber.
Oh no.
My lungs seized as I froze. The thumping of my blood pulsed in my ears. We were underwater.
The air was suddenly gone, and I was at the bottom of that basin. Bony, calloused fingers dug into the flesh of my shoulders, pinning me down.
Air. I need air!
Griffon appeared in front of me. “Are you okay?”
And then I was back underwater.
Tremors racked my body with the need for oxygen. My lungs burned, terror shooting through my limbs at the appearance of crazed, dark eyes on a very different face. His thin smile widened, revealing yellow teeth, delight lighting his face as my struggling turned frantic.
My lungs were on fire. I was going to die.
“Breathe, Wren.”
The bruising fingers broadened. Instead of digging into the flesh of my shoulders, they wrapped reassuring around the tops of my arms. Rough cruelty morphing into a kind of security I couldn’t comprehend. Someone shook me.
“You’re fine, Wren. Breathe.” My eyes focused on Griffon’s face, much closer than before. “You’re okay,” he repeated, jostling me to get my attention. “You just need to breathe.”
I glanced past Griffon to the water surrounding us.
Sweat beaded on my forehead, but I was not wet.
I was not in the water. The muted expanse swirling in rich shades of navy and teal was outside the glass.
Pushing what was left of my panic down, I forced myself to suck in a stuttering lungful of air. I could breathe.
The thumping pulse in my ears slowed. I drew more air into my lungs. And then again. And one more time for good measure.
“Do you need to sit down?”
“No.” My voice came out sharper than intended.
“Are you sure?”
I focused back on the narrowed eyes under Griffon’s knitted brows. “I’m okay,” I breathed. “Just need a minute.”
What I needed was a distraction. I turned toward Charis. “What is this place?” It came out as a breathy squeak. Very dignified, Wren.
His eyes were wide as he studied me. I wanted to crawl into a hole. From the corner of my eye, I could see Griffon staring at me pensively as well. Maybe this metal floor could just swallow me up instead. That would be convenient.
“I’m fine,” I snapped. “I just want to know what this place is.”
Charis straightened and cleared his throat. “It’s just a part of Inframare. A portion of the population lives down here.”
“That’s… amazing.” And just plain crazy went unsaid.
I cleared my throat. Shoving down my lingering fear with every ounce of my strength, through the sheer will of my curiosity, I marveled at the ingenuity required to create such a wonder.
Because if I were going to have a panic attack underwater, I might as well learn something from it. “But why build underwater?”
“Many reasons,” Charis started, still watching me as if he expected me to melt down again. Fair assessment, honestly. “It’s easily defensible and closer to our resources. Many down here make their livelihoods in the sea: deep-sea fishing, seabed mining, even farming on the seafloor.”
Beyond the window, suspended below the structures above, steel and glass spheres of varying sizes stretched through the underwater depths.
Glass tunnel walkways linked the spheres, where figures strolled and congregated.
It was incredible. Terrifying, but incredible.
Like living in a fishbowl…and you were the fish.
Actually, that analogy didn’t make me feel better at all.
To my right, against the riveted steel wall, was a thick, round bulkhead door with a circular handwheel. Charis guided us toward the archway on the left.
It opened into a circular living area. Actually, spherical was a better word, as the steel ceiling was curved as well. There were no right angles in the entire space. Large, round windows continued on the exterior wall from the entry hall and into this room.
I avoided looking in that direction.
A large sitting area took up the center of the room, and a kitchen on our left cut the circle in half. At the cement island stood a slender woman with long mahogany hair, chopping vegetables.
“Hope you have enough for four tonight, Gannet.”
“I see you brought guests,” the woman remarked, regarding Griffon as he stepped closer to my side. Her tone suggested this wasn’t necessarily a welcome development.
“They’ll be staying the night as well.” Charis and Gannet stared at each other as if having a silent conversation. Opposites in almost every way; where Charis was stocky with dark skin, Gannet was tall and pale.
Gannet spoke with tight lips and a harshness that made the next words out of her mouth sound insincere. “Nice to see you again, Griffon.”
Oh good, another person who loved Griffon. He was just collecting fans everywhere we went.
“We’ll be gone in the morning,” he assured her.
“And this is Wren,” Charis announced.
Gannet looked at me, and worry seemed to light in her steely eyes. “Nice to meet you as well, Wren.”
“Thank you for having us. Your house is…amazing.” I gulped. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Living underwater in a metal sphere was not covered in any of the books at the Citadel. Clearly, I needed to expand my reading list.
Gannet wiped her hands on a kitchen cloth. “Come with me, Wren. I’ll show you where you can get cleaned up.”
I glanced at Griffon, suddenly uncertain about leaving him. Which was ridiculous. I'd spent most of the last two days wishing he would stop existing in my general vicinity.
“Go. I have to make some arrangements for tomorrow.”
Gannet led me to a bathing chamber. It contained a copper tub and another large, round window.
But just as the front of the apartment viewed the underwater community, the back of the apartment viewed the deep, shadowy jade of the open sea.
I turned my back on it and steadied my breathing.
Nothing to worry about. Just an infinite expanse of dark water held back by a single pane of glass. Perfectly safe.
Perched on the lip of the basin, Gannet turned a knob. A cloud of steam rose into the air as water began to fill the tub. The sight piqued my interest, momentarily overriding my fear.
“You have running water?”
She smiled, watching the basin fill. “It's one of the simpler luxuries to come by down here.”
“Is it saltwater or do you use reverse osmosis to desalinate?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Gannet’s eyebrows rose. “It’s desalted. But I don’t know how it’s done. Charis understands the process and could probably answer any questions you may have.”
“Oh, okay.”