I had three hours of sleep, half a cup of something that tasted like salty tea, and a growing suspicion that following the ocean's instructions was going to get me killed.
It wasn't the most promising start to an expedition.
Korrin seemed perfectly fine, which was irritating. He stood beside the submarine's control panel, checking the navigation system while I sat with my notebook open on my lap.
"How much longer?" I asked.
"Until we reach the outer station? Approximately forty minutes."
"And until we reach the part where something tries to kill us?"
He glanced at me.
"That depends on how you behave."
I stared at him.
"Was that a joke?"
"No."
"You're getting better at those."
He returned to the controls, but I caught the faintest hint of amusement on his face.
I looked back at my notebook. The message from the Ocean's Heart had been written there three times, mostly because I was hoping it would become less alarming with repetition.
BLACKWATER — LOWER CHAMBER ACCESS GRANTED.
WARNING: SEAL INTEGRITY AT 12%.
The fourth fragment had gone quiet after delivering the message. I had tried the chant again, hoping it would reveal more, but all I'd managed to do was make the pendant around my neck grow warm.
Korrin had insisted we leave before the royal court could interfere. Queen Nerathe had given us the access key, a small navigation device, and a warning that she repeated so many times I was beginning to think she'd memorised it.
If the station recognises the Heart, do not assume it recognises you.
I still wasn't sure what that meant.
"Did your father ever tell you about Blackwater?" I asked.
Korrin's hands slowed over the controls.
"Once."
I sat up. "When?"
"I was younger. He took me to the royal archives and showed me a map of the surface research stations. Blackwater was marked with a symbol I wasn't allowed to touch."
"Naturally."
"He told me the station had been abandoned after a scientific accident. When I asked what happened, he said some knowledge was dangerous even when the intention behind it was good."
I looked at him.
"That sounds suspiciously like something a person says when they don't want to answer a question."
"I thought the same thing."
"And you didn't investigate?"
"I was thirteen, Selene. My father was the king. At the time, I had more pressing concerns."
"Such as?"
"Learning how not to embarrass myself in front of the royal guard."
I considered him.
"How did that go?"
"Poorly."
I laughed before I could stop myself.
The sound surprised me. It had been a while since I'd laughed without immediately remembering something terrible.
Korrin looked over his shoulder.
"What?"
"Nothing. I'm just imagining you at thirteen."
"Don't."
"Did you have that expression even then? The one that makes everyone think you're about to sentence them to life in prison?"
"I was a very serious child."
"That explains so much."
He shook his head, but his expression softened.
For a few minutes, the tension in the submarine eased. Then the navigation screen flickered.
A red warning appeared.
Korrin immediately straightened.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Something is interfering with the signal."
"Natural interference?"
He checked the readings.
"No."
The submarine shuddered.
Outside the window, the water grew darker. The pale blue glow of the surrounding sea faded until the only light came from our instruments.
I moved closer to the glass.
At first, I saw nothing.
Then a structure emerged from the darkness.
Blackwater.
The station stood against the side of a steep underwater trench, its metal framework twisted by pressure and time. Several sections had collapsed, leaving jagged openings where walls should have been. Thick cables trailed from the structure into the abyss below.
A faded symbol was stamped across the main entrance.
Three curved lines surrounding a circle.
The same mark that had appeared in my mother's recording.
My pendant grew warm.
"Korrin."
"I see it."
The submarine's lights swept over the station.
For one brief moment, I thought I saw a figure standing behind an upper window.
Then the light moved, and the window was empty.
I told myself it had been a reflection.
I didn't believe myself.
---
The docking bay was still intact, though getting inside required Korrin to manually override the outer hatch.
The metal door opened with a groan that travelled through the submarine's hull. Beyond it lay a narrow chamber filled with floating debris, broken equipment, and a thick layer of pale sediment.
Korrin secured the submarine.
"Stay close."
"I was planning to wander off and start a new life here, actually."
"Selene."
"I'm staying close."
We put on our diving equipment before leaving the submarine. Korrin's protective gear was designed for the depths, while mine had been modified to accommodate my unusual physiology.
That was the polite way of describing the fact that nobody had any idea what a half-human, half-mermaid was supposed to wear on a dangerous expedition.
The air inside the station was stale, but breathable. Emergency systems were still running, powered by some backup source that had survived years of neglect.
Our lights illuminated the corridor.
Someone had scratched words into the wall beside the entrance.
WE DID NOT STEAL IT.
I stopped.
Korrin turned back.
"What is it?"
I pointed at the message.
He read it silently.
Below the words, someone had carved a second sentence.
WE WERE TOLD TO TAKE IT.
The corridor suddenly felt much narrower.
"Isaac's father," I whispered.
"Possibly."
"Or my father."
"Possibly."
I turned toward him.
"Do you ever have an answer that doesn't involve the word possibly?"
"Not when we're standing in a station full of evidence that contradicts itself."
Fair enough.
We moved deeper into Blackwater.
The first few rooms appeared to have been ordinary research facilities. There were examination tables, broken screens, cabinets filled with corroded tools, and glass containers that had long since emptied.
One room contained a row of old photographs.
I stopped in front of them.
My father appeared in three of the pictures. In one, he stood beside Isaac's father, a broad-shouldered man with dark hair and a serious expression. In another, he was speaking with my mother near a large cylindrical machine.
The final photograph showed six people standing around a table.
My father.
My mother.
Isaac's father.
Queen Nerathe.
An older merman I didn't recognise.
And a sixth person whose face had been scratched away.
I leaned closer.
"Someone wanted to erase them."
"Or prevent anyone from identifying them," Korrin said.
I examined the photograph's edges. A date was printed beneath it, though most of the numbers had faded.
Only the year remained legible.
The year before I was born.
My throat tightened.
My parents had been here, working with these people, while I was still years away from existing.
Whatever happened afterward had followed me into a life I thought I understood.
I slipped the photograph into my pack.
Korrin watched me but didn't object.
We found Isaac's name on a terminal in the next room.
The screen was cracked, but the data storage unit still worked. Korrin connected it to our portable reader while I searched the surrounding desks.
Most of the files were corrupted.
One wasn't.
A recording opened automatically.
A man appeared on the screen, looking considerably younger than the photographs I'd seen of Isaac's father. He wore a white research uniform and spoke directly into the camera.
"My name is Dr. Elias Voss. This recording is intended for authorised personnel only."
I froze.
Isaac's father.
"If this message has been recovered, then the Blackwater project has either been terminated or compromised. I cannot determine which possibility is more likely."
He glanced away from the camera.
"The original objective was to study the Heart's response to disturbances in the deep-ocean currents. The royal council approved the work under the condition that no fragment would be removed from the station."
Korrin looked at me.
The message continued.
"That condition was violated on the seventh day of the final experiment. I followed the instructions given to me by the council's appointed representative. I believed the transfer was necessary to prevent a larger failure."
The recording flickered.
"I was wrong to assume that the person giving those instructions had the authority to do so."
My skin prickled.
"Who was the representative?" I whispered.
The screen distorted, and the man's face became a blur.
When the image returned, he was speaking more quickly.
"Lyra discovered what we had done. She attempted to shut down the lower chamber, but the seal had already begun to fail. Daniel insisted that we evacuate the station. He stayed behind to help her."
Daniel.
My father.
I stepped closer to the screen.
"Please," I whispered. "Say what happened to him."
The recording continued.
"If anyone finds this, understand that the fragment was never meant to be taken beyond Blackwater. The transfer was a mistake, but the theft was not the beginning of the disaster."
Elias Voss leaned toward the camera.
"It was the consequence of something that had already happened."
The recording ended.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then Korrin spoke.
"Your father stayed behind."
"And Isaac's father was ordered to remove the fragment."
"By someone who may have been acting without the council's authority."
I stared at the blank screen.
"Which means the official story was a lie."
"Part of it, at least."
I closed my eyes.
I could almost hear Isaac telling me that his father had been misunderstood. I could imagine how desperately he must have wanted that to be true.
But a question remained.
If Elias Voss had followed an order, who had given it?
And why had that person wanted the fragment removed?
---
We found the lower chamber behind a reinforced door at the end of the research wing.
The access key fitted into a narrow slot.
Nothing happened.
Korrin tried again.
Still nothing.
I took the key from him.
"Perhaps it needs a different approach."
"Selene, don't—"
I pressed my pendant against the metal beside the lock.
The door hummed.
Blue light travelled across its surface, following the three curved lines carved into the frame.
Then a voice spoke from the other side.
"Identity required."
I swallowed.
"What identity?"
The voice repeated itself.
"Identity required."
Korrin studied the symbols.
"It may be looking for a recognised bloodline."
I looked at my hand.
"Wonderful. Let's hope mine is on the guest list."
I placed my palm against the door.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the metal warmed beneath my fingers.
A thin line of light traced the outline of my hand.
"Bridgeborn recognised," the voice announced.
The door unlocked.
Korrin stared at me.
I gave him a small, helpless shrug.
"I didn't do anything."
"That is becoming a very unconvincing explanation."
The door opened slowly.
Beyond it was a circular chamber descending into the trench. A narrow walkway surrounded a vast central shaft, and cables stretched from the walls toward a platform suspended above the darkness.
At the far end stood a glass enclosure.
Inside it was a man.
He was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his head bowed. His clothes were torn, and his hair had grown long enough to fall across his face.
I couldn't see him clearly.
Then he lifted his head.
My heart stopped.
It was the man from the vision.
My father.
I moved toward the glass before Korrin could stop me.
"Father?"
He stood slowly.
For a moment, he only stared at me.
Then he placed his palm against the glass.
"Selene."
His voice was faint, but it was real.
I pressed my hand against the other side.
All the questions I'd carried for years crowded into my mind. Why had he left? Why hadn't he returned? Who had taken him? What had happened to my mother?
I couldn't ask any of them.
I could barely breathe.
He looked at the pendant around my neck, and his expression changed.
"Where did you get that?"
"It belonged to Mum."
His eyes closed.
When he opened them again, they were filled with a grief so familiar that I almost looked away.
"Lyra," he whispered.
Then he turned toward something behind him.
I followed his gaze.
There was another door at the back of the enclosure, one I hadn't noticed before. Its surface was covered in the same symbols as the station entrance.
A red light flashed above it.
My father's face went white.
"You shouldn't have come here."
"I heard you. You told me not to come looking for you."
"And you came anyway."
"Yes."
For the first time, he almost smiled.
It vanished when the alarm sounded.
A low vibration passed through the chamber. The cables shuddered, and the lights flickered.
Korrin moved beside me.
"What's happening?"
My father grabbed the glass.
"The seal is failing."
"We know," I said. "The Heart showed me the warning."
He stared at me.
"You have the fragments?"
"Three of them. And a fourth that appeared in the case."
His expression changed so abruptly that I knew I'd said something important.
"The fourth fragment isn't part of the Heart," he said.
I looked down at the case.
"What?"
"Selene, listen carefully. Whatever you do, don't let it come into contact with the others."
A crack appeared in the glass beside his hand.
I stumbled backward.
The alarm grew louder.
Korrin seized my arm and pulled me away from the enclosure as a second crack spread across its surface.
Behind my father, the door began to open.
Something moved in the darkness beyond it.
My father turned toward the sound.
"No," he whispered.
Then he looked at me.
"Selene, you need to get out of here. Now."
"I'm not leaving you!"
"You don't understand what I've been keeping inside this station."
The door opened another inch.
A cold blue light spilled into the enclosure.
My father pressed both hands against the glass.
"Your mother didn't disappear because she was trying to save the Heart."
His voice broke.
"She disappeared because she was trying to save me."
The glass shattered.
And the thing behind the door finally stepped into the light.
It had my mother's face.
But when it opened its eyes, there was nothing human—or merfolk—looking back at me.
End of Chapter 35