“Why does this feel like the story ends in sadness?”

“Alys disappeared.” Byte’s head retreated almost entirely into the box as it looked at her with those strange eyes, blinking. “She went off in the submarine, certain that there were more discoveries for her. And she refused to be anywhere near the people who would so willingly destroy so much. I was supposed to go with her on that day.”

“What happened instead?”

“Her father was already commissioning me to be one of the deep sea trawlers. He wanted a personal droid to be on the ground floor of the sea so that he could get direct reports rather than waiting for anyone else.” Byte’s hands tapped against its side again before retreating into the darkness of its box. “She never came back. And they never found her.”

“Surely she found land somewhere else. It would make sense for someone like her to have found another home, perhaps another group of people who had similar thoughts as her.” Hope bloomed in her chest for the woman she had never known. Then, that hope was crushed.

“They never found her, Miss Mira. They found the submarine, though. It returned as expected to the city. Empty. The top was torn off and all the equipment was ruined.”

“Torn off? What kind of creature could do that?”

Byte glanced toward the water and then back to her. “There were claw marks on the sides of the submarine. Not teeth, Miss Mira. Claws.”

“Oh,” she breathed.

Alys Fairweather had found the undines as well, it seemed. Glancing around, Mira could only hope that Alys had found herself in a similar situation. Perhaps there was a history of undines having human pets. Or perhaps Arges wasn’t the first undine to find himself intrigued with the thought of another creature with two tails who didn’t have gills to help it survive. Pity or intrigue, it didn’t matter.

“Maybe she survived,” Mira murmured. “Maybe there is hope for us yet, Byte.”

But the little robot had already ducked back into its box. If she listened very carefully, Mira could hear the projector was still going. This time inside the box, playing memories that Byte wished to watch alone.

Setting it down gently on the computer console, she gave the droid a little privacy to mourn someone who had been so dear.

OceanofPDF.com

Twenty-Six

Arges

Weaving between the thick coral roots and curving bridges, he sank deeper and deeper through his home. All was quiet this time. The People of Water were licking their wounds, mourning the loss of their loved ones, and trying to hide from the folly of what they had done.

No one would even meet his gaze. Arges dragged himself along the bottom, scraping his belly and scales upon the homes of those who were lost. His blood marked the water, hopefully giving their families some peace as the true leader of their pod passed by. Giving his all to prove that he missed their loved ones as well.

He should be here with them. He shouldn’t be hiding away with a little mortal who had no idea what they had done or what they had lost. That was why he’d been so angry with her. That was why he’d argued and pushed and tried to hide his feelings by allowing her body to overwhelm him.

He hadn’t wanted to think about this. About his people and their loss and their sadness that filled the sea with a bitter scent.

It was not fair that they had suffered so. But he did not see his brother either. Catching his hand on the top of their shared home, he moved into the cavernous underwater room. Brushing aside the kelp that hid their home from prying eyes, he was disappointed to find it empty. There were only the few swaying nets that they used to hold them in place when they slept. A small bag of berry shaped food that tasted sweet, Daios’s favorite, although he would never admit such a thing. And a few of their favorite woven decorations on the walls. Gifted to them by their blood mother when she was still alive.

“Empty,” he muttered, touching the edge of a tapestry that had recently been ripped.

Where had they brought his brother after his injury? He needed to be treated. That arm wasn’t going to heal itself and there was nowhere for them to bring him other than the healing centers, but he hadn’t scented his brother there either.

Had Daios gone off by himself? His brother should know better. The People of Water were strong, but even a shark would test its luck when it saw one of them was weakened.

Stupid. His brother was so stupid, and it made no sense to him why Daios was suddenly risking his life so often for something that, in the end, didn’t matter.

The kelp shifted behind him and he drew his tail inside to make room for the newcomer. He’d expected perhaps Maketes, who had helped his brother away from that original kelp forest. The yellow scaled brother might have brought Daios somewhere safe, and therefore would have tried to find Arges. Who he did not expect to see was Mitéra herself, slowly gliding into his home and casting her gaze over the weaving he touched.

“Your mother had a talent.”

The tapestry fell through his claws, already ripped, but tearing more with every current that pressed along it. “Yes, she did.”

“You are not supposed to be here, Arges. You are supposed to be with your achromo, convincing her to tell us all her secrets.”

“She’s dying.” He’d intended to ease into this conversation. He had wanted to convince Mitéra of his kairos’s use, or perhaps that they could trust Mira to come back, even though that was unlikely. Instead, he was the idiot who blurted out the truth the moment Mitéra looked at him. “She will not last much longer without the achromos’ medicine that they take. She will die and we will get no information out of her.”

Mitéra waved her hand through the water. “Then she will die. Now we know how to take them, and that their people will not follow anyone who has been lost. You will get another.”

“I do not wish to take another.”

It was a hard truth to tell her, but one that he felt deeply. Arges was not meant for this. He wasn’t supposed to take people out of their homes and watch while they died. He couldn’t torture anymore people like this.

He was loath to admit that the achromos had become people to him. He hated that. And also knew it was right at the same time.

Mitéra watched the emotions play across his face with all-seeing eyes. “You feel something for this achromo.”

“She is honorable,” he begrudgingly admitted. “More than I expected her to be.”

“There is no honor in their kind.”

“There is in this one.”

Her usually serene expression warped with confusion, and he knew that she couldn’t understand what he meant. There was no way she could even see what he saw in Mira, and that was the problem. Mira was the enemy. And that was the only way any of his people could think.

Mitéra’s frown deepened. She shifted closer, the bell of her hair billowing around her and glimmering a hundred colors before she brushed her hand through his hair, over the glowing tendrils mixed in with the tangled locks. “You know there has never been such a pairing. We are not even the same kind, my son.”

“I know.”

“You know it is impossible, then. And that future cannot change, no matter how hard you fight against the sea.”

He did. And yet there was still something in his chest that whispered, “Maybe.”

Mitéra shook her head and backed away from him. “You need to seek the ancients. Beg them to show you the future, so that you may understand why I warn you. You seek only a life of sadness and ruin.”

“The ancients only welcome you, Mitéra.”

“They will welcome you this time.” Her features hardened, and he saw the tendrils underneath the bell of her hair lifting. “I will tell them you are coming, and you will go to them now. My son. Tell them to fix you and give me back my warrior.”