“It’s alright,” he says, softly. “I lasted longer than I expected because of you.”
My eyes prick, stinging because of the cold. “No,” I growl. “We can’t think like that.”
The whales rush the ice sheet we’re on, creating another wave. As the wave slams into the ice sheet, it jars violently and we slide around on it, our screams echoing across the water. Water rushes across the ice, right before it breaks into smaller pieces.
The large sheet of ice we’d clamored on is now barely bigger than the boat we’d been in to begin with. My body is shaking from the cold, my fingers and toes going numb so quickly, I don’t even realize it until we’re on that tiny piece of ice.
“This is not your grave,” I tell myself as I watch the whales line up again. “This is not your grave.” I grit my teeth. “Hold on, Svetlana.”
I feel her on my head, her hands tangled in my hair beneath the hood of my coat. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t say anything, and for the first time since she’s become my familiar, I can feel her fear. Somehow, that makes this all the more real.
The whales come barreling at us again, the massive wave rising. Just before the edge of the ice, they dive and flick their tails. The water comes rushing over the ice sheet and takes us with it. I have just enough instinct to hold my scream in before I’m swept off the ice entirely.
The first shock of the cold water closing over my head is frigid. The second shock comes as it quickly soaks through all my clothing and makes me heavier. It’s so cold, its numbing, stealing the air I’d managed to hold in my lungs just before I’d gone under. My fingers slip from Locke’s grasp as I tumble over and over again beneath the water, spinning with the force of the wave’s momentum. I open my eyes, and the water burns them, but in the green depths, I can see.
The water is clear enough for me to see at least twenty meters. It’s too deep to see the bottom, the water dark beneath us. When I finally stop tumbling, I’m able to look around me.
Locke is three meters from me, fighting against his clothing to reach the surface. He shrugs his heavy coat off, and I watch as it begins to sink, heavy with the sea. Past him, I get a good look at how many of the orcas are around us. I can’t count them all. They move fast and disappear in and out of the darkness as I try, but there are at least a dozen of them swimming, I think. They all have different gray markings and it’s the only way I can tell them apart.
I open my inventory and grab my Bloodsense Fang from it as I start to try and kick toward the surface. My panic immediately lessens the moment it’s in my hand, the Instinct Anchor buff activating. With it, my anger rises and I open my mouth beneath the water to scream in rage.
The orcas move fast, swirling around us. When one gets too close, I swipe the Fang out and catch a fin, nicking it. A bright spot of red blood colors the water for a second before it disperses. They don’t like that, but my Fang does. My senses sharpen and I suddenly know how many orcas there actually are.
Fifteen.
I break the surface and take in great gulps of air. In front of me, Locke swims closer, his own hammer in his hands, but he can hardly swing it in the water. Not with enough force to cause any real harm. My body hums with power, something in my chest expanding that I don’t understand. Still, when the next orca comes close, I raise my weapon.
“This is not my grave!” I scream, and slam the blade into the orca’s snout.
It bellows and swims away, my Fang pulling free as it jerks. The other orcas answer the shrill bellow with their own sounds of anger. I can no longer feel my hand wrapped around the blade and I worry that I won’t be able to hold it for much longer. I tread water, but I’m starting to sink, my bones growing exhausted from fighting. I kick at my boots and they fall off my feet. It worries me that I can’t feel them go, that the water doesn’t get colder.
I can’t feel anything.
My chest warms as I fight, my teeth chattering against each other in a sound that echoes around us. My attacks are growing slower with each jab, until I start to lose feeling in my arms entirely. The orcas swirl and fight, playing games with us until we’re exhausted, until we barely have enough energy to keep our heads above water.
How long have we been in the sea? How long can we possibly withstand the frigid temperature?
The numbness claiming my body tells me we’re already well past what we can withstand.
My next swipe doesn’t even catch the orca. It’s already gone before my Fang can injure it, and its answering song throws it in my face. We don’t have long now and they know it.
“Locke,” I gasp, my lungs barely working with the cold.
His eyes are on mine already, his head tilted back as he struggles to stay at the surface.
We don’t say anything. There really isn’t anything to say even if we had the energy to say it. Instead, I reach for him. Neither one of us can feel the other, but I know he’s there, holding my hand, as we prepare for the inevitable.
“Tell Dox I tried,”I think to Cipher, who remains silent. He doesn’t offer help. He doesn’t say good-bye. He just . . . left. He looked at his statistics and left me to face them alone.
No. Not alone. With Locke and Svetlana.
“This is not your grave,” I try to croak out, but the words don’t even sound human anymore. My teeth are chattering too violently to let anything out, but still I try. Still, I desperately try.
My chest warms despite the cold again, a strange feeling of euphoria coming over me. Is this what death feels like? I thought it would be more painful.
The warmth spreads outward slowly, but it never passes to my limbs. It stays centered on my heart.
The orcas sing and swim around us, and then their song changes. The anger disappears and changes to something that feels frustrated, disbelieving even.
