‘Yes, but you don’t have gills,’ I snap back.
‘I can hold my breath four times longer than you humans.’
‘That’s very helpful for us,’ Isagani mutters.
‘If you ask nicely I’ll share my air,’ Sinigang grins.
‘Can you stop fucking around?’ I say through gritted teeth.
‘I’m not,’ Sinigang says, his eyes glinting in the half-light. ‘We can’t help the others. We have to try and find our own way out of here. This is the only way I can sense.’
‘It’s black as night down there,’ I insist. ‘Full dark, freezing cold. Kick up silt and you’re dead.’
‘What do we follow then?’ Isagani asks, worrying the inside of their cheek. ‘We could swim in circles in the dark until we run out of air.’
Sinigang stills his swishing tail and nods. ‘Hold our breath and follow the song. I’ll lead and help as best I can.’
I sigh, and the sound echoes a little, showing me how small our space – and therefore air supply – truly is.
‘What do you want to do, Isagani?’
Isagani kneels by the pool, looking at their hazy reflection in the water. Bioluminescent creatures swim in the water, and glow worms make their homes in the rock holes.
‘We can’t stay here forever,’ they say with a decided tone. ‘When I said I wanted an adventure, I didn’t think I would live long enough for the terror to set in.’
We take the plunge, Sinigang leading down into the gloaming. I open my eyes to salt water and brace, squinting to follow the otter-cat, lithe in the water, a dark mound of undulating fur and bubbles. Isagani and I hold hands, despite how awkward it is while swimming. I won’t lose that kid. I won’t lose any of them.
The seabed is littered with giant clams. I try not to stray too close as they open their jaws, exposing their fleshy insides, supremely yonic in their look.
Then I spot it. Within the clam, large milky ridged spheres. Pearls. I see Isagani, mesmerised. We drift towards it, the clam’s stream of bubbles enveloping us. We could trade these for comfort, protection. A soft and easy life. Isagani reaches out their hand, not with the feather touch of a fingersmith, but of a curious child, who will only be placated by just a little touch. The clam’s jaws snap shut, and Isagani startles back. I drag them away and Sinigang is waiting, irritated. He blows an air bubble into the water, and it grows, enveloping our heads. We gasp in lungfuls of air. It’s stale and fishy but I’ll take anything.
‘I had no idea otter-cats could do that,’ Isagani says.
‘We keep our secrets close. Careful, it will only last a short while,’ Sinigang warns.
As we dive further, I start to make out the sound Sinigang caught on the surface. It’s a chittering punctuated by humming and anethereal whisper. It pulses, sending ripples through water. My muscles spasm, and my bones vibrate with the sound. It’s not wholly unpleasant, my body tingling like my lips after a spicy broth. It’s as though bees are in my head, and I follow it down, through the maw of caverns and blue holes. The resonance frequency feels as though it’s crushing my ribs down onto my lungs. It may be the underwater pressure, but my muscles are enlivened and abused by it, pulses sharp and bright in my whole being.
Large dark shapes move in the water below us – flying, writhing masses. They hum, deep throbbing sounds that rattle my bones.
I kick desperately upwards, trying to find the water’s surface. Wet mulch, slippery to the touch. It’s in my eyes and mouth. Like hot wax sinking into my face. There’s a milky froth, like dirty sea foam. I push, feeling the squelch of something giving way. Then we emerge into an air bubble, and I’m gasping and hacking mulch. I grab for the floating mass beside me.
‘Don’t touch it,’ Sinigang warns, paddling to my side.
I let go of the mass and it floats away.
‘What is that?’ Isagani asks, treading water close by.
‘The drowned dead can weigh you down,’ Sinigang warns. ‘Don’t join their multitude.’
We haul ourselves out onto a narrow ledge nearby, collapsing with the effort of it, the glow worms our only company. I think about our undead crew, only bones now, and how easily we could become one of the dead. I slow my breathing, thinking of the limited air supply, even here, everywhere in these caves. Sinigang might be able to help us in the water, but it is a reusing of an existing supply.
‘What were all those dark shapes down there?’ Isagani eventually asks.
Sinigang shudders. ‘Understand this: the ocean is a bath full of monsters.’
Isagani grunts, then raises their head. ‘What did we follow? Will it lead us to the treasure?’
I’m in too much pain to hope. Life itself feels like a treasure at this point. My only hope is that we can find the others and get out of here.
