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"Get your knife off my throat, or I take your hand with it." Cassian caught the zealot's wrist before the blade could press deeper.
The man grinned through a brass breathing mask. "Captain Vance. Still pretending you own this wreck?"
"Still pretending you can fight?"
Cassian twisted.
Bone cracked. The zealot screamed, and Cassian drove his forehead into the mask. Brass dented. The man dropped, but two more black-coated figures rushed through the open maintenance hatch behind him.
Lyra's staff struck the first one across the ribs. The impact rang through the narrow airlock like a hammer on a pipe.
"Three of them," she snapped. "No. Four. One's above you."
Cassian looked up just as a knife came down.
Lyra grabbed the back of his coat and yanked him sideways. The blade scraped sparks off the steel deck. Cassian rolled with the motion, came up on one knee, and fired his compact hand cannon into the zealot's thigh.
The gunshot punched through the airlock.
The zealot collapsed, clutching the smoking hole in his leg.
"You shot him?" Lyra shouted.
"You wanted him dead?"
"I wanted him disarmed!"
"Then you should've said that before I pulled the trigger."
A boot slammed into Cassian's shoulder. He hit the bulkhead hard enough to rattle his teeth. The fourth zealot dropped from the overhead ladder and drove a hooked knife toward his chest.
Cassian caught the man's forearm with both hands.
The knife stopped an inch from his coat.
The zealot leaned down, using his full weight. His mask hissed with every breath.
"The Sunless Choir claims the vessel," the man said. "Give us the navigator, and you may keep your life."
Cassian's shoulder burned against the wall. "You came aboard my ship with knives, and now you're making offers?"
"She is not yours."
"Neither is the air in your lungs. Yet here you are, wasting it."
The zealot shoved harder.
Cassian's fingers slipped. The blade touched his coat.
Then Lyra stepped behind the attacker and drove the iron tip of her staff into the back of his knee.
The man folded.
Cassian wrenched the knife free and slammed its hilt into the zealot's mask. Once. Twice. The brass filter broke on the second hit, and the man fell coughing onto the deck.
Lyra stood over him, breathing hard. Her pale eyes pointed toward the ceiling, unfocused and sharp at the same time. Blood ran from a cut beside her mouth.
"Don't kill that one," she said.
Cassian wiped his knuckles across his sleeve. "You keep changing the rules."
"I need to ask him who sent them."
"Ask before he passes out."
"I know how interrogation works."
"Do you? You were about to let him open my throat."
Her chin lifted. "You seemed busy."
For half a second, the airlock held only their breathing and the groan of the ironclad around them.
Cassian stepped close enough to feel the heat coming off her through her damp coat. He caught her wrist before she could turn away. Her pulse jumped beneath his fingers.
"You pull me into a knife fight," he said, low, "you follow my orders."
Lyra's free hand closed around the butt of her short pistol. "Take your hand off me."
"Say it like you mean it."
"I mean it enough to shoot you."
"No, you don't."
Her face tilted toward him. She could not see the distance between them, but she always knew when he was close. Her breath brushed his jaw, warm and uneven.
"Keep testing me," she whispered. "You'll find out."
A violent impact shook the ship.
The deck jumped beneath their boots. One of the fallen zealots slid into the hatch frame. Somewhere outside the pressure hull, metal screamed.
Lyra's head snapped toward the sound. "That wasn't a collision."
Cassian released her wrist and reached for the wall comm. "Brant. Report."
Static spat back.
Then Brant's voice broke through. "Captain, we have a problem."
"You always say that after causing one."
"The bait canister is jammed in the launch cradle. The beast is already on us."
Cassian stared at the airlock door. A deep, slow thump rolled through the hull.
Another followed.
The leviathan was striking the ship with its head.
"How long?" Cassian asked.
"Until it bites through? Maybe four minutes."
"You have two."
"Then get down here and give me a third."
Lyra crouched beside the zealot with the broken mask. She pressed two fingers to his neck, then searched his coat.
"He's alive," she said. "And these men weren't trying to kill us."
Cassian glanced at the knives scattered across the deck. "They missed my heart because they were being polite?"
"Their blades are hooked on one side. They cut cables. Restraints. They're here for the canister."
The zealot on the floor made a wet choking sound.
Lyra leaned over him. "Who told you where we were?"
His damaged filter clicked. "The captain's own crew."
Cassian's eyes hardened.
Brant came over the comm again. "Cassian! Move!"
A second impact slammed through the vessel. The hatch behind them buckled inward. Bolts popped loose and skipped across the deck.
Lyra rose fast. "If the hatch goes, the airlock floods."
"I know."
"Then stop standing there."
"You heard him. He said my crew gave us away."
"You can interrogate the traitor after we stop the monster from folding your ship."
Cassian looked at her. "You're giving orders now?"
"No. I'm reminding you that your death warrant doesn't matter if you drown before you collect the bounty."
That got him moving.
He kicked the wounded zealot's knife away, grabbed Lyra by the elbow, and pulled her through the inner hatch. She stumbled into him when the deck tilted. His arm locked around her waist before her shoulder struck the frame.
"I had it," she said.
"You were falling."
"I was adjusting."
"To the floor?"
"It was a tactical adjustment."
He kept hold of her for one breath too long.
Her hand landed flat against his chest. Beneath the coat and harness, his heartbeat hammered against her palm.
"Cassian."
He let go.
"Don't use my name like a warning," he said.
"Then stop giving me reasons."
They crossed the narrow passage as alarms began to howl. Red lamps flashed along the ceiling. Steam hissed from a cracked valve, turning the corridor into a hot, wet trap.
Brant's voice came through the pipe speakers. "I can hear you two arguing. That's either good news or the end of civilization."
"Where are you?" Cassian called.
"Lower launch bay. The winch gear is locked around the bait line."
"Why?"
"Because your ship hates me."
"You jammed the gear."
"The gear jammed itself while I was improving it."
Lyra moved ahead with one hand brushing the wall. The steel vibrated under her fingers.
"It's circling," she said.
Cassian followed close behind. "The leviathan?"
"No. The pressure around us. It keeps changing."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you get. Something outside is pushing water against the hull in waves. It wants us to turn."
"The creature wants us broadside."
"Yes. So it can snap the ship."
Cassian reached the lower bay hatch and slammed the release.
The door opened halfway before a zealot's boot kicked it back into his face.
Cassian staggered. The zealot surged through with a hooked knife in each hand.
Lyra fired.
The shot tore through the man's shoulder and spun him into the wall. He stayed upright, one blade scraping for Cassian's neck.
Cassian trapped the arm, drove his elbow into the man's ribs, and slammed him down across the hatch threshold.
"You really need to stop letting them in," Lyra said.
"You shot the last one."
"You looked like you needed help."
"I didn't."
"You were bleeding."
Cassian touched the cut on his cheek. His glove came away red. "That's not bleeding. That's a scratch."
"Your definition is charming."
He shoved the zealot aside and entered the launch bay.
Brant stood waist-deep in the service trench, one hand wrapped around a wrench and the other gripping the bait line. The line disappeared through the forward launch tube into the black water beyond. The canister at its end glowed faintly red, leaking a thin chemical plume through the external camera feed.
The leviathan followed that plume.
Its shape filled the monitor in broken pieces: pale armor, rows of hooked fins, a mouth too wide for the dark around it.
Brant looked up. "Tell me you've got a clever plan."
"I always have a plan."
"Your plans usually involve me running toward machinery while you shoot things."
"Then you already know your part."
Brant pointed the wrench at him. "If I die, I'm haunting your command chair."
"You already do."
Lyra walked to the monitor. The red glow reflected on her face, but her eyes stayed fixed on nothing.
"Pull the canister back," she said.
Brant barked a laugh. "That's the plan?"
"The bait line is wrapped around something."
"The winch is locked."
"Not the winch. The line."
Cassian stepped beside her. "What do you hear?"
"Nothing."
"You just said it's wrapped."
"I feel the tension through the hull. The line is rubbing against metal below us."
Brant's expression tightened. "There is no metal below us. We're over open trench."
Lyra turned her head toward him. "Then the wreck is closer than your charts say."
The command deck speaker crackled. A distorted sonar tone pulsed through the bay.
Lyra flinched.
Cassian saw her fingers curl around the head of her staff. "What is it?"
"Turn it off."
"Brant, cut the sonar."
"It's already off."
The pulse came again.
Lyra's breath caught. Her shoulders pulled tight. She took one step toward the monitor, then another, as if a cable had hooked behind her ribs.
"Lyra." Cassian moved in front of her.
"Move."
"Why?"
"The line is under the wreck."
"You said metal."
"I said move."
She shoved his chest.
He did not budge.
"Get out of my way."
"Not while you're walking into a sealed bay with a live leviathan outside."
"You don't understand what I'm hearing."
"Then explain it."
"I can't explain it with you standing there."
Another sonar pulse struck.
Lyra gasped. Her staff clanged against the deck. She grabbed the side of her head.
Cassian caught her shoulders. "Look at me."
Her pale gaze lifted past his face.
"I can't see you."
"You never can."
"Don't make jokes."
"Then stop drifting."
She shoved again. This time he caught both her wrists and backed her against the bulkhead.
The steel hit her shoulders. Cassian's body blocked the bay around her. His face was inches from hers, breath hot against her cheek, one hand locking her wrists above the staff harness.
"Stay here," he ordered.
"Take your hands off me."
"No."
"Cassian."
"Say my name again and maybe it will remind you who you are."
Her jaw tightened. "A condemned captain with a leaking ship?"
"Try again."
"A murderer."
"Again."
"A bastard who thinks a gun makes him king."
"Better. Keep going."
The tremor in her arms eased by a fraction.
Cassian lowered his voice. "Tell me what you want."
"The line."
"Why?"
"Because the wreck is trapped beneath us."
"And?"
"And something inside it is awake."
Brant looked over from the trench. "I hate every word in that sentence."
Cassian kept his eyes on Lyra. "What is inside?"
"I don't know."
"You know enough to walk into the launch tube."
"I know it is bright."
"There is no light down here."
"There is for me."
Her voice cracked on the last word. Her wrists strained against his grip.
"It hurts," she said. "Now let me go."
Cassian released one wrist but kept the other pinned. He pressed two fingers beneath her chin and turned her face toward him.
"Stay with me. Count the bolts behind your back."
"What?"
"Count them."
"You're insane."
"Probably. Count."
She swallowed. Her breath touched his mouth, then pulled away.
"Four," she said.
"Good."
"Five. No, six."
"Six. Keep counting."
"Seven. Eight. Your hand is shaking."
"It isn't."
"It is."
"Count."
"Nine. Ten. You're scared."
His grip tightened. "Don't confuse control with fear."
"You brought a blind woman into the black sea and tied our lives to a bait canister. That's fear wearing a uniform."
"I brought the only navigator who can find what I need."
"So that's all I am? A compass you can order around?"
"Right now? Yes."
The words landed harder than he intended.
Her mouth flattened. The heat in her face vanished behind something colder.
"Then steer without me."
She jerked her hand free and struck him across the jaw.
Cassian's head snapped to the side.
Brant froze. "Do I need to interrupt?"
"No," Cassian and Lyra said together.
Lyra tried to step around him.
Cassian caught her coat and pulled her back. Her shoulders hit his chest. His arm came across her upper ribs, holding her steady while the ship rolled under them.
"Let go."
"Not until you can stand without chasing the signal."
"You don't get to decide that."
"I do when your mistake gets everyone killed."
"Then shoot me and save yourself the trouble."
Cassian leaned close to her ear. "Don't offer me an easy way out."
She went still.
His glove pressed against the front of her coat. He could feel each hard breath she took. Her hair brushed his cheek when she turned her head.
"You want me alive," she said.
"I need you alive."
"That's not what I asked."
A violent boom rolled through the lower bay. The monitor flickered. The leviathan's jaw opened outside the bow, revealing pale plates and a throat that seemed to swallow the camera light.
Brant shouted, "The line is moving!"
Cassian released Lyra and turned. "Get the canister clear."
"I can't! The gear's seized!"
"Use the manual release."
"Already tried."
"Try harder."
"That's not how machines work!"
The ship lurched sideways.
Brant crashed into the service trench. The wrench flew from his hand. The bait line snapped tight, and the entire winch assembly screamed.
A chain whipped across the bay.
Cassian shoved Lyra down. The chain passed over them and tore through a railing.
"You all right?" he asked.
"Ask me after you stop throwing me at the floor."
"You prefer the chain?"
"I prefer warning."
He pushed up and crossed to Brant. "Where are you hurt?"
"My pride. Maybe my spine. The winch has my leg."
Brant's boot was trapped between two iron gears. The bait line had wrapped around the mechanism, pulling him toward the launch tube with every slow turn.
Cassian grabbed the nearest lever and hauled it back.
Nothing happened.
"The lock's engaged," Brant said. "You need to release the gear teeth manually."
"Where?"
"Inside the housing."
Cassian looked at the metal casing. The gears were turning underwater behind a cracked inspection panel. The pressure chamber had flooded around them. Black water streamed through the lower seals.
Lyra moved to the edge of the trench. "The hull is thinning."
"I can see that," Cassian said.
"No. You can't."
She pointed toward the forward wall. "There's a fracture behind the plating. A long one."
Brant swore. "If the beast bites the bait, it'll pull the whole launch assembly out."
"How long?" Cassian asked.
Lyra cocked her head. "Less than a minute."
"Brant, can you free the gear?"
"With both hands and a miracle."
"You'll get one hand and me."
Cassian tore off his coat, shoved it at Lyra, and reached for the pressure helmet hanging beside the hatch.
She caught his sleeve. "What are you doing?"
"Going outside."
"No."
"That wasn't a request."
"The outer cradle is flooded."
"I know."
"The pressure will crush your lungs."
"Then I won't breathe."
"That is not how this works."
"You said you wanted warning. Here's one. If I don't cut the line, Brant gets dragged out and the creature tears us open."
She tightened her grip. Her fingertips pressed into his bare wrist where his glove had come off.
"You don't know what's under that wreck," she said.
"Neither do you."
"I know enough to be afraid."
"Good. Stay afraid and keep the ship steady."
"You keep using that word like it makes you smart."
"It keeps you from doing something reckless."
"You mean it keeps me from following you."
Their faces were close again. The alarms strobed over them, painting her skin red, then black, then red.
Cassian looked at her mouth before he could stop himself.
Lyra felt the pause. Her fingers went still on his wrist.
"Captain," she said softly, "if you're going to threaten me, do it."
"I'm not threatening you."
"Then what are you doing?"
The next impact shook the deck. Their shoulders collided. Cassian caught her around the waist, and for one sharp second her body pressed fully against his.
She pushed away first.
"Go," she said. "Before I chain you to the wall myself."
Cassian pulled on the pressure helmet. "That sounded almost concerned."
"It sounded like an order."
"You don't outrank me."
"If you die, I take command."
"You can't see the controls."
"Brant can."
Brant raised one hand from the trench. "I vote she takes command. She hasn't shot me yet."
Cassian sealed the helmet. His voice came through the suit speaker, rough and distorted. "If I don't make it back, flood the forward cradle."
Lyra's head snapped toward him. "No."
"That will cut the creature off."
"It will bury you with the wreck."
"Then don't let me fail."
He opened the outer hatch.
Black seawater crashed into the pressure chamber. Cassian stepped through before the inner door could close behind him.
Lyra grabbed the emergency wheel and fought it shut.
Through the small reinforced window, she saw his figure vanish into the dark. His suit lamp flashed once, then disappeared behind the bait line.
"Cassian," she said into the comm.
Static answered.
Brant yelled from the trench, "The gear's turning!"
"Can you free your leg?"
"Not unless the captain cuts the line!"
Lyra pressed both palms to the bulkhead.
The hull talked to her through the metal.
A tremor. A scrape. A pressure wave sliding beneath the ship.
Then Cassian's voice came through, faint and broken. "I found the line."
"Cut it."
"There's a problem."
"Of course there is."
"The line isn't wrapped around the wreck."
Brant stopped fighting the gear. "What is it wrapped around?"
Cassian's breathing hissed in the comm. "A door."
Lyra's fingers dug into the steel. "What kind of door?"
"Old lock. Heavy frame. It leads into the wreck."
"Then cut the line and come back."
"Can't."
"Why not?"
A low vibration rolled through the speakers. Even through the ship, Lyra felt it in her teeth.
Cassian said, "The bait is caught in the lock."
"Pull it free."
"Brant, reverse the winch."
Brant reached for the controls. "If I reverse it, the line tightens around your suit."
"Do it anyway."
"I need a better order than that!"
"Reverse it."
Brant looked at Lyra. "Your captain has a death wish."
"He has a death warrant," she said. "There's a difference."
She grabbed the comm receiver. "Cassian, listen to me. The creature is turning back toward the bow."
"I know."
"No, you don't. It's not circling anymore. It's lining up."
"How long?"
Lyra pressed her cheek to the wall. The resonance pulsed through her bones. "Twenty seconds. Maybe less."
"Brant, reverse now."
The winch groaned.
The bait line jerked.
Cassian grunted over the comm. "Again."
Brant pulled the lever harder. "It's locked!"
"Break it."
"That's the only winch we have!"
"Break it!"
Brant seized a heavy pry bar and jammed it into the gear housing. "On three. One. Two—"
The leviathan struck.
The bow buckled with a sound like a mountain breaking. Every lamp in the lower bay went out. Brant flew across the trench. The winch tore free of its mounting bolts and crushed his leg deeper into the mechanism.
Lyra hit the deck and slid toward the open service trench.
"Brant!"
"Still here!" he shouted. "Ask me again in a minute!"
Water burst through a seam above him.
Lyra crawled to the trench and reached for his arm. "Give me your hand."
"Don't pull! The gear will take both of us!"
"Then tell me what to do."
"Get the release pin! Left side! Red handle!"
She swept her hand across the machinery. Her fingers found cold teeth, vibrating bolts, and a lever slick with oil.
"I found it."
"Pull it straight up!"
Lyra gripped the handle with both hands and hauled.
It moved half an inch.
"It's stuck."
"Kick it!"
"Which part?"
"The red part!"
She drove her boot into the handle. The pin snapped free.
The gear released with a violent clank.
Brant's leg came loose, and Lyra dragged him backward as the bait line shot through the housing.
Outside, something huge hit the line.
Cassian's voice vanished beneath a burst of static.
"Cassian!" Lyra shouted. "Answer me!"
No reply.
She seized the comm box and slammed the side panel with her palm. "Vance! If you can hear me, say something!"
A breath crackled through.
Then, "Still alive."
Lyra sagged for one second.
Cassian continued, "But the door is opening."
Her relief died.
"Don't touch it," she said.
"The bait is inside."
"Leave it. Come back."
"You don't understand."
"I understand the word leave. Use it."
"There's a pressure seal behind the outer door. It was built to hold something in."
Brant shoved himself upright, face gray. "Captain, get back here. Now."
"Working on it."
The ship rolled again. Loose tools skittered across the deck. A sharp metallic crack rang through the lower bay.
Lyra felt the vibration in the bulkhead and went rigid.
"The seal is breaking," she said.
"Cassian, cut the line," Brant ordered. "You can lose the bait."
"If I cut it, the creature takes the canister."
"Let it!"
"No."
Lyra slammed her hand against the comm. "You don't get to die for a metal box."
"It's not the box."
"Then what is it?"
Silence.
The sonar pulse struck again.
Lyra's vision filled with white fire. She stumbled, clutching the wall.
Cassian's voice sharpened. "Lyra?"
"I'm here."
"What did you feel?"
"The wreck."
"What about it?"
"The door isn't empty."
Brant's face tightened. "Living crew?"
Lyra nodded slowly. "Breathing. A lot of them."
Cassian swore. "The vessel has been down for decades."
"Tell that to the people on the other side."
A muffled pounding traveled through the hull.
Three hits.
A pause.
Three more.
Brant stared at the forward wall. "That's coming from inside the wreck."
"Cassian," Lyra said, "get out. Now."
"The airlock is opening."
"I said get out!"
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because someone just grabbed the bait line."
The comm filled with metal grinding and Cassian's strained breath.
Lyra stepped toward the outer hatch. "I'm coming to you."
"No."
"You don't command me outside your ship."
"I command you anywhere I can hear you."
"Try and stop me."
"If you open that hatch, the pressure will—"
"I know what pressure does."
"Lyra, listen to me."
"No. You listen. You dragged me into this hunt, put a knife at my throat, and chained my future to your warrant. You don't get to cut me loose now because the sea finally found something scarier than you."
For a moment, only static answered.
Then Cassian said, quieter, "Stay with Brant."
"Make me."
"I will."
His voice hit something in her chest that had nothing to do with the resonance.
She hated that it worked.
Brant grabbed her sleeve. "The forward hull is opening."
"I heard it."
"No, you didn't. Feel this."
He pressed her hand against the deck.
A deep mechanical rotation moved beneath them. Not the winch. Not the ship's engines.
A lock was turning.
Lyra's mouth went dry. "The wreck's airlock is connected to our launch cradle."
"Can we shut it?"
"Not from here."
"Then we need the captain."
The outer camera flickered back on.
Cassian floated in front of the wreck, tethered to the bait line. His suit lamp cut through the black water and revealed an enormous circular door behind him.
The door was open by one hand's width.
A pale hand reached through the gap and wrapped around the canister cable.
Cassian lifted his cutting torch.
Lyra saw the shape behind the hand move.
Not one person.
Dozens.
"Cassian," she whispered. "They're alive."
His helmet turned toward the camera.
"I know."
"Get away from the door."
"I can't."
"You can. Cut the tether and swim back."
"Then the canister goes inside."
"Let it go!"
"You said it was bright."
Lyra froze.
Cassian's voice dropped through the comm. "You felt it before we found this wreck. You knew something was down here. What did you leave out of our bargain?"
Her hand tightened around the receiver.
"Cassian—"
"Answer me."
"We don't have time."
"We have enough time for the truth."
Behind him, the airlock door opened another inch.
The pale hands multiplied across the gap.
Lyra heard their breathing through the resonance, slow and wet and perfectly synchronized.
"I didn't know what it was," she said.
"You knew it was here."
"I knew something was calling."
"And you brought me straight to it."
"You were the only captain stupid enough to take the route."
His torch hand went still.
"There it is," Cassian said. "The part you didn't tell me."
"I didn't lie."
"You omitted the reason every ship sent into this trench disappeared."
"Would you have taken the bounty if I told you?"
"No."
"Then I made the correct choice."
The water around Cassian stirred.
The leviathan was coming back.
Lyra felt the pressure wave before the camera caught it. Her stomach turned. She gripped the edge of the console and forced herself to speak.
"Cassian, cut the cable and come back."
"What happens if I don't?"
"The creature bites the canister."
"And then?"
"Then it follows the light."
"To the wreck?"
"To us."
He looked at the open door. "You said the people inside were alive."
"They are."
"For how long?"
"I don't know."
"You always know more than you say."
"And you always ask questions when you should be moving."
The leviathan's shadow passed over the camera.
Cassian raised the cutting torch.
"Cassian!" Brant shouted. "Something's on the outer hull!"
The ship groaned. Bolts screamed in their housings.
Lyra dropped to one knee and pressed both hands to the deck. The resonance exploded through her. She tasted metal. A hot sting filled her mouth.
"It's here," she said.
"What is?" Brant asked.
"The beast."
The monitor shook as the leviathan slammed into the ironclad's side.
Cassian's tether snapped tight.
The bait canister swung toward the wreck.
The pale hands pulled.
Cassian seized the cable with one hand and reached for the canister with the other.
"Cut it!" Lyra screamed.
"If I cut it, we lose the bounty."
"If you don't, we lose the ship!"
"You care about the ship now?"
"I care about not dying with you!"
The words left her before she could stop them.
Cassian went silent.
His glove closed around the canister.
The wreck door opened wide enough for a body to pass through. Faces appeared in the gap, pale and still, their mouths covered by old metal masks.
One of them lifted its head toward Cassian's light.
The creature outside opened its jaws.
Cassian shoved the canister away from the wreck and drew his hand cannon.
"Cassian," Lyra said, barely breathing. "What are you doing?"
"Making a new plan."
"You don't have ammunition for that."
"I have one round."
"That won't stop the leviathan."
"No."
He aimed the weapon between the open wreck door and the approaching shadow.
"It might stop what's coming out."
A massive harpoon launched from the dark.
It crossed the camera view in a blur of black steel and struck the ironclad's starboard fuel reserve.
The impact punched straight through the outer plating.
For one breath, nothing happened.
Then the reserve ruptured.
Hot red oil blasted into the sea, spreading in thick ribbons around the hull. The fluid flashed against the cold water and made the entire camera feed pulse crimson.
Every alarm on the ship began screaming at once.
Brant was thrown against the console. "Fuel breach! Starboard reserve is gone!"
Lyra seized the comm. "Cassian, get back inside!"
The leviathan surged through the red cloud.
Its jaws closed around the bait canister.
The cable snapped.
The shock tore Cassian away from the wreck. His body slammed into the outer hull, and his hand cannon spun into the black water.
"Cassian!"
His suit lamp flickered.
The wreck door continued opening behind him.
Something enormous moved beneath the pale, waiting crew.
Lyra pressed her hands to the deck, and the resonance hit so hard that gold filled her mouth.
She coughed.
A drop of bright gold blood struck the steel between her boots.
The ship gave one long, tortured groan.
Far below the wreck, under layers of bone and collapsed iron, something answered.
One pulse.
Then another.
The dead black sea lit up from beneath.
Brant stared at the glowing cracks spreading across the forward display. "What the hell is that?"
Lyra could barely breathe. "The light."
Cassian's voice broke through the screaming comm, distant and sharp. "Lyra, tell me what you just woke up—"