Then it moved closer—and nudged the side of the bubble with its nose.
The bubble shifted upward.
Zohar’s eyes widened as he felt the motion. The current shifted again as the creature glided underneath him, gently pushing from below—lifting him. Carrying him toward the surface with the careful strength of something ancient and kind.
But the air?—
His lungs seized.
His fingers twitched.
A sharp pressure built in his head and chest as the oxygen inside the bubble ran out.
Too slow.
The edges of his vision blurred. He slumped sideways, barely aware of the motion. The darkness swelled, waiting to pull him under.
Then—
A flash of movement.
A swirl of magic.
Dolph.
He appeared like a streak of living silver, hand raised, eyes wide with fear.
With a flick of his wrist, a spiral of pressurized water surged beneath Zohar’s bubble—catching it in a burst of momentum and rocketing it upward.
The surface exploded around him in a shimmering arc as the bubble burst.
Zohar gasped—his first real breath in what felt like forever.
Cold air slammed into his lungs. He coughed, gagged, choking on the desperate need for oxygen. His arms flailed weakly, fighting to stay afloat.
Then something solid rose beneath him.
A broad back. A shimmer of scales.
The creature emerged, lifting him from below. He clung to it, chest heaving, arms wrapped around its slick body as he struggled to catch his breath.
Dolph surfaced beside him, face pale, eyes wide with concern. His hand clamped firmly onto Zohar’s shoulder.
“Breathe,” he said hoarsely. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”
Zohar gasped again, nodding weakly. The burning in his lungs began to ease.
A watery grin tugged at his lips.
“We… we found her,” he rasped. “Nessie.”
Dolph let out a half-laugh, half-sigh, his expression caught between relief and something heavier.
“Yeah,” he said, voice low. “We did.”
But then his gaze dropped.
His smile faded.
