I’d never heard of such a thing, but I took his word for it. We wove through the ice floes, Spio in the lead like he knew exactly where we were going.
“How long have you been up here?” I said.
“I can’t keep track because of the sun. Hey, have you seen any belugas?”
“Sorry.”
“Guess not,” said Spio thoughtfully. “Well, I managed to train an attack pod.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. The command is—” He hesitated, then said, “Better not, in case they’re nearby.”
I glanced around, half expecting to find a swarm of them coming after us.
“I ran out of bait,” said Spio, “so they left me behind yesterday.”
“Oh.”
We swam for a long time in silence. I wanted to punch the stupid icebergs everywhere. Every time I felt movement, it turned out to be shifting ice.
“How far could she have gone?” I said, trying to sound casual.
Spio didn’t answer. After a while, he said, “You dudes didn’t decide on an emergency meeting spot? Any kind of plan in case you got separated?”
“No,” I said defensively. “We’ve always been able to …”
I looked away.
“To find each other?” said Spio, giving me athat’s cutesort of grin.
It was true. Even as kids, we’d known where to meet. It was always the same beach, at the same tide pool, the time agreed upon by the tides and—
I expelled a large bubble. “Oh!”
I looked to the surface. A thick layer of ice was stopping us from breaching, but there was a crack in it a short ways ahead.
Maybe she had left me a sign, like she used to do with rock towers. If she dove, she would be able to find shells and rocks and all kinds of things to work with.
Spio followed me to the crack without question. I paused before breaching, feeling for movement or any sort of presence. When I was reasonably sure there were no bears, I poked my head out and looked around eagerly.
My heart sank. I’d been so sure I would find a rock tower, covered in webs of frost, pointing me in the right direction. But the area was as white and deserted as everything else.
Spio surfaced next to me.
“We can leave a sign for her,” I said, voice carrying across the emptiness. “If we dive, I can get some rocks.”
“What about this?” Spio pointed at the thin layer of powdery snow.
There was a shallow groove, barely visible, with a crook at the end. An arrow.
“I think maybe we’re going the right way,” he said.
I stared at it. He was right. This groove was from a finger. It hadn’t formed naturally. Affection swelled in my heart for Lysi, and how clever and resourceful she was—followed by a wave of relief. If we swam quickly, maybe we could catch up.
We swam in the direction the arrow pointed.
“Why were you and Lysi in the Atlantic, anyway?” said Spio.
