“Arthur,”her thought flared, bright and terrified.
“I’ve got you,”I sent back, forcing calm I did not feel. The darkness pressed in on all sides, thick and endless, the fall stretching far longer than physics said it should.
My heart pounded so violently it hurt.
“If this is it,”I told her, the truth breaking loose before I could stop it, “you should know that I love you.”
The words felt like a confession and a surrender all at once. No strategy. No restraint. Just honesty hurled into the dark.
Her arms tightened around me.
“Arthur, where you go, I will go. Where you stay, I will stay.”The words rang through me with absolute clarity, fierce and unafraid. “Your people will be my people. Your life, my life.”
Even through her mind, her voice broke. “I don’t know what this means yet.But whatever this is… it matters to me.”
The impact came immediately after, violent and shocking.
Cold water swallowed us whole.
The fall ended in a crushing splash that knocked the breath from my lungs. We plunged deep, momentum dragging us down into blackness so complete it erased direction. Water burned my nose and throat as I fought to orient us, one arm locked around Artemis, the other clawing upward on instinct alone.
I kicked hard, pulling us toward where I thought the surface should be. My chest screamed for oxygen. Panic clawed at the edges of my control, sharp and animal.
Then we broke through.
Gasping, I hauled Artemis up with me as weburst into open air beneath a cavern ceiling that loomed impossibly high above. Water rippled outward from us in wide, echoing rings.
I swam to the nearest stretch of stone and half-lifted, half-dragged Artemis out of the water before pulling myself up beside her. She collapsed against the rock, soaked and shaking, hair plastered to her face.
“You’re alive,” I said, the words coming out rough.
She huffed weakly. “I noticed.”
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly gave out.
The cavern revealed itself slowly as my vision adjusted. A vast chamber carved smooth by time and water, the pool at its center fed by multiple channels pouring in from the walls. The sound of running water echoed constantly, growing louder by the second.
Too loud.
I followed the flow with my eyes and felt my stomach drop.
The water level was rising.
“Arthur,” Artemis said, already pushing herself upright despite her trembling hands. “That’s not good.”
“No,” I agreed.
The exits were high. Too high to reach as the water climbed. The stone around the pool was slick and offered no purchase.
Hadrian stood across from us, soaked and furious. He had no one left to command, no one left to sacrifice but himself. And us.
We were trapped. The chamber wasn’t trying to crush us. It wasn’t trying to stab us or burn us.
It was going to drown us.
I turned to Artemis, a fear I hadn’t felt before threading through my ribs. She was staring past the water, past the rising line creeping up the walls.
At the carvings.
