“How doeshehave it again?” I ask. He shouldn’t have yet another piece of Eli.
“The wimp is a whole lot more likely to die than me. I gave it to him when we split up so he could take Sola and Coen with him and get out of here.”
“You can’t die. And I already got them out. I just couldn’t go with them.” Kelter huffs and rakes a hand up from his neck into his hair and speaks into Paisel’s ear. “Finish then. We have to go.” Water sloshes against the back of his thighs, his ass clenching as he returns to ramming Paisel into the wall.
“Now!” Eli demands.
“Why couldn’t you go?” I ask Kelter. “And what is going on with you? You’re out of control and being an ass. Look around you.”
His back muscles tighten, but he doesn’t turn around as he speaks, doesn’t stop his rhythmic motion. “Maybe I’m out of my damn mind. Do you not realize that I just went through everything you went through? That I felt you two together, felt the fear for your life, felt him claim your heart.” He hoists Paisel’s slipping body back up to where she started. “I can hardly function, much less find my way out of here. And I couldn’t leave with Coen and Sola because my cravings were too strong. I would have hurt them. I needed release.”
It’s still not okay. I spin my rings to calm myself. “Kelt.”
Kelter groans and drops Paisel in front of him. Icy water splashes up. She lets out a shrill yell, steadying herself then holding him again the second his pants are back around his waist. Kelter pushes her away and turns around, the impression on his chest like a blaring light between us, painful to look at. “I don’t want your pity.”
“That’s not—”
“Get it together,” Eli says. “We need to get out of this shit hole now.”
Kelter grabs Paisel’s waist. “Fine. But I’m taking my own way out.”
“I don’t care what you do as long as you get out of here. I have enough going on without feeling you die. And Never doesn’t need to be near you anymore now that you’re fully linked,” Eli says, still flushed and breathless. “There’s no reason for us to stick around this place. Or you.”
And I don’t care either. Except I do, and wish I didn’t after what he said to me. But also, Idoneed to be near him… or want to. I can’t help it. He’s my link, and he’s right about one thing. How is he supposed to function like this? How can either of them?
I follow Kelter, Paisel and Eli into the hallway. “Kelt, please. I came here for you. Let’s get out of here together, then we’ll figure all this out. I haven’t even talked to you about the teva fields yet.”
“I can’t be around either of you right now,” Kelter says, then walks in silence until he and Paisel part ways with us a few turns later. No goodbye. Only a hardened look that strikes the soul.
Eli drags me through the passages. Left. Right. Left again. Any direction that appears to go up. But the ups become downs, and every directionfeels wrong, the cold water pressing in on us with the same force and insistence as my thumping heart.
Walking is useless with the water now at our necks. And it’s so damn cold that my limbs resist movement. Our feet lift from the ground. I scramble to his back, wrapping my arms tight around his neck, my legs around his waist. Light stones shine through the water like rays from tiny suns below, diminishing the higher we rise.
He grunts and loosens my terrified grasp on his neck before kicking off the wall, propelling us forward. My shirt sleeves billow around my shoulders. He kicks so hard I think we’ll pop out into the open of the upper level any second. But the passage is endless. He must have taken a wrong turn. Or twenty. We swim up and up the incline, still not catching up with the rising water.
I try to tell the water to stay calm, to surrender. If I had anything to do with this, I can undo it. I put all my mental energy into it. I even beg. But this couldn’t have been my doing, because it continues to fill the passage, paying no mind to my plea.
Eli’s arms sweep in wide arcs at his sides. Faster and faster and never enough. My head bonks the ceiling, water up to my chin. My teeth chatter. “Eli!”
He stops and pulls me from his back with a swirl, holding my hips painfully tight and treading to keep us afloat. Our noses touch.
“Whatever happens, don’t come back for me. Take a breath,” he says.
My entire body throbs, every pounding pulse saturated with panic. “You’ll drown!”
The man actually smiles. “I’ve lived through worse.”
“Wait!”
He doesn’t.
He flips me around and dives underwater, holding my hips from behind and driving me forward. I suck in all the air that I can and seal my lips before my nose goes under. Water fills my ears. Slicks over my eyes. Covers my head.
And every breath I’ve ever hauled through my airway I took for granted, because only a second without air has me missing its lightness, the crispness of a sharp inhalation.
My lungs ache in its absence, the breath I gathered seeminglyuseless with the dread that crushes my chest. Bubbles escape my mouth, precious air all used-up.
Possibly, filling myself with liquid might not be anywhere near as bad as I thought. Maybe dying isn’t as awful as my visions, not as messy or gory or traumatizing. Maybe it would carry me from consciousness like drifting into sleep.
