The cold dread in my stomach grows heavier until it’s the same black pit as before. I tighten my grip on the paddle until my knuckles are white.
I can do this. I have to do this. One tomorrow at a time, and never look at the next tomorrow too closely. That’s how I’ve made it this far.
“Tay.”
I flinch as Ygdris’ voice hums in my ear. “I’m here.”
“I see you.”
He doesn’t need to tell me. I’ve felt his eyes on me ever since he kissed me. “I’m almost at the dive spot. I just need to hide the kayak.”
“There’s something I need to tell you first.” His voice shakes. “Earlier, you told me that you used the power from my order to save yourself. To save me. But the compulsion forces obedience, it doesn’t twist reality so that you survive regardless of the danger. You could have died, and I…”
For a few minutes, there’s no sound except the shush of water against the kayak, and Ygdris’ breath in my ear.
“That’s why I couldn’t compel you to do this. I won’t use compulsion to make you… kill yourself.”
He spits the last words out as though they hurt.
A few minutes later I slide into the water. Ygdris’ words haven’t exactly reassured me and as the water closes over my head, I shiver.
I grew up near the water. In it, more often than not. It’s why I told Ygdris that the Dome being broken was such an issue. I know I wouldn’t be able to stay out of the harbour, even if there were monsters in it.
But now, for the first time, I feel uneasy in the water.
I thought I’d been so smart. Using the dragon’s glamour to make myself strong enough to kill the sea monster and drag Ygdris off the seafloor up into the kayak. But if it wasn’t the glamour keeping me alive – I could have died…
Think of the defence orb.
It’s not an order. He isn’t forcing you to do this, you’re doing it for your own reasons. For good reasons. For every other human who lives in the shadow of the Spire.
Or to stop his pair from turning up and taking you back up to the Imperial palace the moment you admit this is all a trick.
Don’t decide which is true yet. Don’t think. Just do. Just… hope you’re doing the right thing, this time.
I exhale a stream of bubbles. I’m diving into the old Parliament grounds. The rolling underwater hills are covered in waving fronds of seaweed, which is also growing up the stone walls of Parliament House. I swim alongside the marble columns that line the building’s façade.
“My records indicate that the entrance is accessible from within the building. However, the buildings themselves were all closed up after the government collapsed.”
Please God, tell me I’m not going to get a history lesson from a freaking dragon while I’m down here. I kick down, towards the glass-fronted annex beside the marble Parliament House. The glass is pitted and cracked; I avoid the broken sections and use the drac-tech knife Ygdris gave me to cut away the door.
It drops inward, floating slowly to the tiled floor. I slip in through the gap, goose bumps prickling on my skin.
There are still paintings on the walls, and cushioned chairs under them. There’s a goddamned sign. I read the words “Kia ora! Join us in welcoming the Protectorate—” before I rip my eyes away.
Maybe the evidence that I wasn’t the only one fooled by Protectorate lies should be reassuring. But it’s not. It makes me feel worse.
Behind the reception desks I glimpse a magazine, its rotting pages disintegrating as I disturb the water. Everything’s underwater and covered in a thin layer of muck, and there’s seaweed growing up one wall – and there, beyond the security scanners, is the door to the Spire.
I swim up to the security scanners and hesitate. Everything else here looks derelict, but there’s still a single light blinking on the side of the metal arches.
Drac-tech? I glance down at my knife. Ygdris said the only alarms were related to keeping dragons out, but I don’t want to risk it. I swim over top of the scanners and turn on my headlamp as I approach the door.
The only light back here is the blink of the security scanners. The gate is a huge circle of some strange alloy, engraved with Protectorate script.
It’s heavy, it’s solid, and I’ll be lucky if it’s not thicker than my knife is long. I can just see it, me stuck under here until my oxygen runs out, digging at the door like a prisoner scraping their way out of a cell with a spoon.
Well. Might as well get started. I line up the knife’s hilt with the edge of the door and activate the blade. There’s a sizzling burst of bubbles and I jerk away – I’m not wearing any protective gear, and there’s no way I’ll be able to pick up whatever this treasure is with both hands burnt off.