Noush tugs on the bond in our chest. The slightly dull and tarnished one that belongs to Finch.
I think I’m done now.
But instead of slowing down or manoeuvring so that we can get out of the water, the monster pushing us through the water seems to speed up.
Noush struggles to push up again, fighting the fierce torrent of water. Wriggling and wiggling doesn't work quite as they normally do when you’re travelling ten times our fastest usual sprinting speed. She moves our powerful tail from side to side and we struggle to push ourselves up. But the current is too strong, our head is stuck beneath the surface and we can fight against it enough to suck in a breath of air.
Hello? We want to get out now.
Noush pushes and tugs at the bond with Finch and still nothing happens.
Unlike her, I’m not surprised. Noush hasn’t quite wrapped her head around the bond with Finch, how it’s barely there at the best of times. And right now, it’s like screaming into the void. There is nothing at the other end of the bond but a blackness that frightens me whenever I dare to look its way. Even if we prod and prod, he can’t hear me.
Torin hasn’t been able to shift into his bear form since he turned invisible, despite trying over and over. Which means that I don’t know what his bond feels like when he’s in his other form, so I have nothing to compare this to.
It feels like my version of normal has shifted beyond recognition now that I have a half dozen tangled bonds in my chest and keep feeling snippets of their emotions. I felt Kit for the first time two days ago and so did Finch. That was what triggered Finch’s insane pace in the water.
Kit’s alive, at least. He’s confused. Worried. And... I’m sure I caught flashes of something else that felt a lot like betrayal.
It was that last one that kicked us into action. It was frustrating as hell that I couldn’t work out why he was feeling that way. If I could have dipped into his brain, even for five minutes, I would have.
The other thing that’s frankly scaring the shit out of me is that I haven’t heard a peep from Jack. Nothing. It’s like the bond is there, but it’s just as dead as Finch’s is right now. I can’t tell if that means he’s hurt or unconscious, or something worse. I would surely know if anything truly bad had happened to him, but it’s still making me uneasy. I might not know him as well as some of the others, but there’s still a deep unease in my gut when I think he might be hurt in some way.
I’m back to not sleeping or eating much. My stomach’s been in knots and my throat and chest generally feel too tightto get much food down without chewing endlessly, leaving me full far too quickly. And that’s not to mention the way that I keep waking up every night, covered in sweat. Not even being wrapped up in Torin’s invisible embrace or tucking my head onto Aster’s chest is enough to let me drift off again.
Torin’s worried too, even if I can’t see him, I can feel enough of him to know that much. Every time I wake up with my heart pounding, he’s already awake. And I can’t tell if he sleeps at all, or if he just lies there waiting for the night to end.
Noush’s chest is growing tighter and tighter as we fight the urge to breathe. We are still stuck underwater, and it feels like being dragged along by a riptide, like we’ve totally lost control.
Panic sets in when we fail to pull up yet again. A third attempt that leaves us shoved deeper under the water instead of pushed out of it.
Fuck. This isn’t good.
Noush pushes and prods at the bond repeatedly. But it’s fruitless. Hopeless. We’re tugging on a string that has nothing connected at the other end.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this, caught up in something far more powerful than we are. Like being caught in a tornado or inside a tidal wave.
Just as our vision starts to blacken at the edges, there’s an odd sound from somewhere above the water’s surface. And then the tentacle pushing us forward jerks away. Our momentum pushes us forward, but we’re finally able to push up and breach the surface, sucking in air in desperate gulps.
Relief hits as our chest heaves and the air stings our sore eyes.
Mother Ocean, that was close.
There’s another deafening screech from beneath the water, and we twist around to see a flash of metal.
Metal and flesh. And one very pissed off bear.
Mate.
We fight our way through the rolling waves Finch’s monster has produced, diving through them and swimming hard until we eventually reach the ship. When I finally flop onto the deck, shifting back to my usual form, I’m exhausted. My body aches and I feel like I could stay collapsed like this forever, or at least until my limbs stop violently shaking. I tug my sealskin over me, as though that can help to assuage the shivers wracking my body.
The boat is rocking from side to side, but we no longer seem to be travelling forward at speed. It’s like we’re caught in the wake of something. Something that’s causing gigantic waves to crash against the side of the ship.
I drag myself up to my feet and cling to the deck as best I can, narrowly avoiding sliding around like an unsecured bucket. My heart is still racing, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I struggle to get control of my breathing. The next thing I know, I’m in the air, lifted by unseen arms. As I shoot a vague glance over the side of the ship into the water, it’s back to a normal colour, although as frothy as I’ve ever seen it.
There’s no sign of Finch’s monster anywhere.
Exhaustion hits me hard, and I let my body relax against Torin’s warm, invisible chest.
