But there was nothing to do. The water had already soaked through. His bright skin turned gray, flaking away. His eyes found mine, terrified and already dimming.
“Tell them—” he started, his voice breaking. “Tell the Circle I tried to be brave.”
The Circle. The sprite communication network. Even while dying, he was thinking of his message routes, his purpose.
Wickett moved beside me, blade out. “I can make it quick.”
“No.” I held Wither closer to my chest, trying to shield what was left of him from the water and the monster that wanted to claim another life. “He hasn’t asked for that. It’s not our choice to make for him.”
Wither’s tiny hand gripped my finger. The strength surprised me. “The water witch is kind,” he whispered, and then his grip loosened.
He didn’t dissolve dramatically. He just... stopped. One moment there was a tiny being in my hands; the next there was weight without life.
“You tried,” Wickett said quietly. Not comforting. Just observing.
“And failed,” I said, letting each drop of water burn as I released Wither’s body. I couldn’t show weakness. Bravery sure, but I couldn’t mourn someone I didn’t know in front of a crowd that didn’t give a shit about me. Or him. I’d save it for later. “Middle passage. Now.”
The Ripper had no argument as he turned away. The tunnel barely fit his shoulders. Skin scraped stone more than once, followed by cursing that would’ve impressed the dock workers. The biting water reached our necks when we emerged into another chamber.
Katarina’s team got there at the same time, swimming out from a tunnel to our left. A pedestal rose from the water’s center, an obsidian stone sitting on top, just as the Magistrate had promised. But there was only one.
Lucette stepped forward, her blonde braids and twists long enough to float in the water as she looked between Wickett and me and then to the pillar. “Nothing personal, Rune Weaver. But only one team walks out, and I’ve got people to live for.”
“So do I.”
Violence erupted.
Felix went for Wickett with the desperation of someone who knew they were outmatched but had to try, anyway. Lucette came for me, and there was something apologetic in her eyes even as she balled her fists. This wasn’t personal. This was survival.
I dropped beneath the surface, using the water like an extension of myself. Not obviously, just moving with it instead of through it. I surfaced behind her and drove both feet into her back. She hit the wall hard but managed to come up moving.
Her nails—that of a beast I couldn’t identify because she never fully shifted—caught my shoulder. Blood in the water made everything worse, and better.
Worse because the burning intensified, better because blood and water were cousins, and I could make them dance together.
Through the chaos, I watched Wickett fight.
No wasted movement. Every strike had purpose, its conclusion already determined.
There was no doubt about it: Felix was very good.
But Wickett was inevitable.
Something cracked behind me. I whipped around, noticing the thing we’d all missed.
The glass ceiling was falling.Andthere was a pattern. Every thirty seconds, a specific section cracked, closing off another way out. The whole maze was on a timer, but, more than that, it was designed to seal escape routes in a specific order, designed to make us take the submerged passage. Which meant...
“The ceiling!” I shouted to Wickett. “It’s a pattern forcing us underwater!”
He understood immediately, adjusted his fight to move Felix away from the falling stones instead of into them. Not mercy. Strategy. Dead opponents couldn’t be questioned later. And Wickett loved his questions. Especially when Felix had been paired with a famous shifter that wouldn’t shift.
Chunks of stone rained down. Our entry passage sealed itself.
Lucette seemed to figure out the puzzle, glancing over her shoulder to shoot me a wicked grin before diving into pain itself. She was looking for the passage out now, too.
We collided at the pedestal, both hands on the stone that somehow burned even worse than water, worse than acid, worse than anything except the fire I kept caged in my chest. Lucette’s eyes doubled in size. “What?—”
I drove my forehead into her nose. Not hard enough to break it. Hard enough to shock. She let go, and I turned away as more of the ceiling cracked and fell.
