Movement hooks my stare toward the shore. To where something is stepping out onto the ice, oozing silver light that spears into the dark abyss.
My heart hitches, hands flattening as those luminous shafts drift closer … closer … all to the tune of thumping steps and clangorous cracks. A haunting melody that prickles my skin, raises my pulse.
I guess she’s not down here with me after all.
I shift until I’m directly beneath a heavily frosted patch, watching those blades of light slice through the water, herding closer.Swarmingme as the immense presence slows directly above, becoming still.
Silent.
There’s not a single breath of sound, nor the thump of a beating heart as I’m struck with the tingly sense that my Other’s waiting for something. Not sure what, and I don’t intend to find out.
Flipping so fast I get a head spin, I dive headfirst toward the distant den. Intent on putting space between us, yes, but mainly I’mrelieved.
She’s above. Not down here, skulking around while I search.
This is perfect.
Who knows how long it’ll last, but I’d be stupid to waste this opportunity to get what I need and—ideally—never deep-dive again.
Creators, I hope she doesn’t eat anyone up there …
I better be quick.
Reaching the cluster of pillars, I’m about to force myself between them when I notice something …off.
Last time my Other stuffed me down here, only the pillar at the center of the cluster showed any signs of being nested on. Now,numerouspillars have been worn into a concave dip, each cradling a pile of those luminous, silver egg-shaped stones. Like my Other’s been working tirelessly, dividing the pile across several nests.
Frowning, I shift toward a pillar’s edge so I can better see the central one, now cradling onlytwotreasures: the velvety black rock that looks like a lump of coal and an egg-shaped stone that’s marbled black and silver—
I look away, suffering a soul-deep shiver that leaves me certain I never want to know what secret that stone contains. Move toward a pile of the pure silver ones, a collection of my Other’s memories, no doubt, based on the flashback that attacked me last time I accidentally touched one.
Why did she shift them?
I edge closer to the small mound, heart stilling as I catch sight of something black between the gaps, sharp edged on one side but smooth on the other. Like it’s been buffered by the … tides of …time.
“You’ve got to be fucking with me,” I mutter, innately aware of what it is. A shattered bit of memory stone she’s smothered with the egg-shaped silver ones—so purposely placed it’s impossible for me to touch without shifting things around.
The sinking feeling in my chest tells me it’s not justanystone. It’s the one I need.
I groan, swim toward the next pillar nest piled with argent treasures, seeing another shard of black tucked beneath.Alsoimpossible to grab without some excavation work and a side of emotional trauma.
Teeth gritted, I scan the nests. Realize exactly what this is.
A trade station.
She’s taken the memory I want, smashed it into bits, and hid the respective shards beneath her memory eggs. So if I want to fast-track my learning of Bulder’s language, it comes at a cost.
Me, absorbing bits of her past. Memories that possibly involve …Elluin.
If she’s trying to establish some sort of relationship with me, she’s going to be sorely disappointed at the watered-down version of the brave little girl she bonded with.
I tip my head and stab my gaze toward the distant surface, ball my hands into fists, and fill my lungs with icy water that fails to put me out of my misery. “Iheartilydisapprove!” I yell, then press my chin to my chest, not wanting to see if she responds at all.
One spiral at a time.
Turning, I drag myself to the closest pile of pre-prepared torture fueland drop to my fucking knees, bearing all the enthusiasm of someone walking themselves to a noose. I don’t bother trying to work out which egg stone is going to hurt less. Chances are the only safe option is not to touch them at all. But I came down here for bits of Bulder’s language, and dammit, I can’t afford to leave empty-handed.
There’s too much at stake.
