In my panic, I let go of the knife. It disappears into the murk below me.
And light flickers around the edge of the door. The soft glow reminds me of Protectorate seals, so – wait, it’s gone. Everything’s dark again except for the light from my headlamp and the buzzing knife on the floor below. Phew. All I need to do now is dig the knife out of whatever muck it’s fallen into and cut out a hole big enough to squeeze through, or—
No, wait.
Dust and grit are swirling in the circle of light from my headlamp. Swirling through the cut I made – and either side of it between the edge of the door and the wall.
Oh God. The door was sealed. And now it’s not, and those swirling bits of dust are being carried along by the water that’s rapidly pouring into the Spire.
I need to move. My brain knows it, but my body is paralysed. Just like when the Dragon charmed me into dropping into that sea monster’s mouth.
No. Worse than that. At least when I was glamoured I could barely tell what was happening around me. Now I can’t move but I can see exactly what’s about to happen. The door’s going to open, and I’m going to be caught in the wash and smashed into whatever’s on the other side.
“Tay? What’s happening?”
Ygdris’ voice echoes in my ears. A bubble of air escapes my mouth as I grind my teeth and – I just ground my teeth. Maybe I can move after all.
In the fraction of a second I have left before the door gives way to the massive weight of water pressing down on it.
I tuck-turn and swim as fast as I can. My arms and legs slice through the water, shooting me forward.
I’m not fast enough.
“Tay!”
And of course, the last thing I hear before a thousand tonnes of water drives me through the Spire door and slaps me into paste is the dragon’s voice.
“Tay, by the sun’s light, answer me!”
I’m alive. And in one piece. I think. Well, I’m mostly certain about the first bit. Less so about the second.
Ygdris is yelling at me. I try
to tell him to calm down, and my mouth moves without making any sound. At least, I think my mouth’s moving.
I blink, and the movement dislodges a horrible thought. What if I only think I’m in one piece? What if I try to sit up and I leave bits of myself behind? What if I am paste and I just don’t know it yet?
“Tay!”
“Hrngh.” I blink again, and my eyes focus on something lying in front of my face. Blink. The shape resolves into my hand. At least I think it’s my hand. It’s a strange colour, washed-out and blinding white. Like the maybe-mine hand is glowing.
I try to move my hand, and the fingers in front of me twitch. Hah. It is mine, then.
And the light…
I throw myself backwards, swearing. The light was the bloody drac-tech knife. The current that had slammed me through the door had picked it up, too, and dropped it less than an inch in front of my eyeballs.
I run my hands over my face. I’m pretty sure it’s still all there. Fuck. My ear is bleeding – there’s a cut on my scalp just behind it. I wince and pull my hand away.
“Are you under attack? Just tell me what’s happening—”
Ygdris’ voice is harsh with impatience and – something else, some emotion I can’t place. I imagine him prowling helplessly back and forth in the ruined room where I left him, with no idea what’s happening inside the Spire, and almost feel sorry for him.
“I’m fine. I got – it doesn’t matter. I’m in.” I scramble onto my knees and grab the knife, carefully deactivating the blade before I pocket it. The room I’m in is long and high-ceilinged, with galleries running along the walls.
And it’s full of the roar of water. A wave washes over my legs and I turn to see where it came from. “Okay, hold on to that thought. I need to move.”
“What? What’s happening?”