But in the quiet evenings, when the Wastes turn pitch black outside and Bolt dims his light to a soft ember-glow, I take out the silver mirror.
Tonight, my finger traces the jagged line of the scarred throat reflected in the silver glass.
Vaelis.The name forms soundlessly behind my teeth, a ghost moving my lips against the surface of the mirror. The image wavers, distorting the pale face staring back at me from the polished metal.
Is he safe behind the coral walls? Does the warm current still kiss his crimson fins?
"Who?"
The mental voice cracks like static, sharp enough to make me flinch. My heavy hand slams over the mirror, smudging the reflection. Bolt's serpentine form glows brighter, his golden eyes fixed on me through the copper bars of his cage.
I shake my head slowly, denying the question even as my heart pounds against my ribs like a trapped fish.
"Don't lie to me, shark," Bolt's thoughts rasp against my mind. "You stare at that piece of glass like it's a window. There's someone on the other side, isn't there?"
My fingers tremble as I set the mirror aside, then dip into the fine white sand. With deliberate, shaky strokes, I carve a shape into the floor.
A crown.
Bolt's response is a violent snort of blue sparks that illuminate the chamber in searing flashes. "A royal betta? You're pining for aReef Royal? No wonder you look so miserable. Royal Reds are nothing but pretty scales and suffocating politics."
My eyes narrow. I wipe the crown away with a sweep of my palm, the grains cascading back into formlessness. He's not like that. My hands form the denial, my head shaking with it.
"They all are," Bolt insists, his blue light pulsing with cynical energy. "Take it from me, shark. I lived in the brightest, warmest waters of the reef. I've seen them with my own eyes."
He spits a bright spark of electricity that grounds out with a sharp crack against the heavy iron shackle securing his neck to the engine. The metal groans under the strain.
"Their palace is a gilded cage. Like this one."
His body twists against the rusted iron chains, the links groaning where they bite into his scales. "The deep has a cruel way of making your outside match the rebellious ugliness they accuse you of. It strips away your beauty and binds you to your own wreckage. I left my life behind, only to find myself here. But I decided I would rather drag this miserable tin can across the barren abyss than be an obedient, hollow pet for their high court."
His golden eyes focus on me, sharp and ancient, holding a heavy exhaustion that seems wrong in such a powerful creature.
"You're better off here in the dark. Silence is better than their beautiful, suffocating lies."
I look to the silver mirror resting in my lap, its surface reflecting only the dim blue glow of Bolt's prison.
Maybe he's right.
I lower myself into the fine white sand, my scarred fins spreading wide as my body settles. The warmth seeps through my skin, a slow tide of heat that fights against the perpetual cold that lives in my bones.
Pip scuttles back inside, now having completed his work on the shell, his tiny arms clicking softly against the sand as he curls up securely against my neck. His small weight is a comfort, a living warmth against my cold scales.
The shell grinds steadily forward, carrying us further away from the bright reef, further away from the looming war, and further away from the beautiful mer who stole my heart.
I am Kael. I am the silent hunter for the House of Drift.
And I am alone.
It is better this way. I close my eyes, the faint blue glow of Bolt's light painting the inside of my eyelids. The silence is a blanket, heavy and suffocating, but it is familiar. It is mine.
Time blends together. The routine of the House of Drift becomes the rhythm of my existence. Hunt. Feed Bolt. Patch the shell. Clean the copper. Sleep. Wake. Repeat. The world outside the shell is a uniform gray, the world inside a shifting dance of blue light and shadow.
Today, I am returning to the House of Drift with a heavy brace of small eels, their bodies still warm from the faint thermal vent where I found them, when the sensation hits.
A vibration.
It is faint, trembling through the cold water like a distant heartbeat. I stop completely, my lateral line flaring wide to catch the sensation. It is not a fish. It is not a rumbling thermal vent.
