I dip my heavy head in agreement.
Reaching over to the helm, I grab a spare iron scraper from the console. I wedge it against the steering wheel, locking the heavy column in place with a sharp twist. The metal groans in protest.
I look to Bolt's copper cage, his electric light dim in the toxic haze.
Guard her safely,I sign with stiff fingers, pointing a clawed digit toward the unconscious betta-mer.
Bolt sparks a sharp blue arc against the copper bars. "I'll do as I please. I am not a hired babysitter, shark."
My brow furrows, crossing my arms over my broad chest in a silent challenge. The water around us grows heavy with unspoken tension.
"Fine," the eel snaps after a moment, his coils tightening with irritation. "For the record, I was going to guard her to begin with."
I turn from the cage, my attention returning to the mission at hand. I push open the heavy kelp curtain, the rotting fronds scraping against my rough skin. The freezing, toxic water of theSilt District rushes into the warm shell. It is foul, the stench of decay.
Vaelis chokes, his fine gills flaring wide as the sudden assault of pollutants hits his sensitive respiratory system. His crimson fins droop in the murky water.
I take a deep, grounding breath. It tastes like my home. Not the good, warm home I have built with Vaelis in the Wastes. The old, suffocating home. The dark home of the unwanted and the discarded.
I swim out into the freezing dark, my powerful tail cutting through the sludge with practiced ease.
Vaelis follows my lead, staying close to my side.
We swim together toward the hidden fissure, toward the witch. And for the first time since the silence took my voice away, a physical vibration builds deep in my throat.
Interlude
A Cage of Light
Mira
Theupperspiresofthe Reef are a blinding cage of crystal and light.
Navigating the spiraling coral walkways, my blue tail propels me through the warm, sunlit water. I'm twelve years old. I'm a betta, a true Vael, bred for the Vanguard infantry and destined for the heavy iron spear and the perimeter lines.
But I do not care about spears. I care about the young mer swimming ten lengths ahead of me.
Vaelis is a Red. A masterpiece of biology. His flowing crimson hair catches the sunlight, flashing like polished rubies. His red fins trail behind him, long and elegant. He belongs in the light.
Pushing my tail, I close the distance.
"Vaelis!" I call out, my voice echoing off the polished stone.
He stops, his shoulders dropping in a heavy sigh. Turning to face me, he crosses his arms over his chest, his golden eyes filled with deep irritation.
"Mira," he says, his tone holding no warmth. "You're supposed to be at the training grounds. The drillmaster will dock your rations, you know—"
"I don't care about thestupiddrillmaster," I say, catching up to him. I hover in the water, trying to catch my breath without looking weak. "I want to know where you're going. You skipped the morning formation."
"I am a Prince," Vaelis says, lifting his chin. "I do not need to drill with the grunts."
"You arevain," I snap, the insult slipping past my lips before I can stop it. "You only care about yourself and your status."
Vaelis narrows his eyes. The accusation stings his pride.
"That's a lie," he says, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I care about a lot of things."
"Prove it," I demand, folding my arms.
