Senses reeling, Jax plunged into the water. The initial blast of cold did little to clear his mind.

Sorrow had saturated Macy’s expression, her posture, her tone; their physical differences had not masked her emotions. Seeing her in such a state had made his chest ache, even as the water spilling from her eyes had piqued his curiosity.

Why had her eyes leaked? Was it something all humans did, or was something wrong with her?

Those questions were minor concerns compared to the sadness and desperation Macy had displayed. He’d been so close to relenting. So close to sinking down on the ground beside her and saying yes, yes, I will take you home. I will take you anywhere you want to go.

But he would not betray his people.

As he descended into the underwater tunnel, he changed his skin, causing it to emit a faint light. He used the uneven protrusions as handholds to pull himself through the narrow passage.

Macy was other; an enemy, dangerous and deceptive. Humans sought only two things — power over that which they did not control, and the destruction of what they could not control. That was what the only kraken ghost in the Facility taught, when he appeared.

Never trust a human.

But Macy’s blue eyes were so full of feeling, and though they were so different from a kraken’s, they held something he could not deny — a spark of life, of intelligence, of compassion. As strange as she looked, there was an exotic appeal to her features.

The feel of her, the smell, the taste…

His muscles burned with exertion as he sped through the tunnel. His urge to return to her was far stronger than he’d expected. For the first time in his life, Jax doubted his strength of will.

What would going back now accomplish? If he gave in, she’d be in control. How long before he gave away everything and put his people at risk?

Humans had only ever brought hardship to kraken.

She was with another human.

Within a few moments, he emerged into the all-encompassing blue of the open ocean. Nearby fish scattered at the sight of him, flitting away in all directions. Tendrils of grass swayed below, illuminated by shafts of sunlight pouring through the glittering surface above, and hard-shelled bottom feeders scuttled amongst the rocks and plants at the base of the cliffs.

Jax descended, swimming close to the rock face along the coast. From what little he’d seen of humans, they preferred the land, venturing into the water only on the floating platforms they called boats. Macy had thanked Jax for saving her, and had panicked when she fell into the water in the cave…

Perhaps the old stories were true — humans needed air to survive. If so, Macy’s companion had likely been claimed by the sea; anything that might have remained of the missing human after the storm would have been eaten by scavengers already.

When Jax rescued Macy, she was being pulled into the open sea. The current would’ve drawn her farther and farther from land, eventually into deeper water than most kraken dared swim. But the sea could be fickle; there was a chance the other human had been swept back to shore.

At the very least, Jax was likely to discover some sign of their boat.

He turned away from the cliffs and swam into deeper water, toward the place he’d found her the night before. When he reached the general area, he pushed up, breaking the surface.

The breeze was cool against his exposed skin. He rode the water, turning his gaze to the land; the shore was hazy in the distance, rising from the sea like a cresting wave frozen in time.

Curiosity had brought him onto land a few times in the past — as far as he knew, he was the only one of his kind to do so. The others feared it because it was the unknown. Because it was the domain of the near-mythical humans. A cursed place. Though he’d never ventured far from the sea, Jax knew the truth — everything felt different on land, the textures alien and sometimes painful, but there was nothing more to fear there than in the ocean.

He swam forward, dipping just below the surface. The likelihood of finding Macy’s missing human was low, but it was an excuse to explore. An excuse to get away and sort his jumbled thoughts.

Jax lifted his eyes above water as he neared the shore. Along much of the coast, the land was a wall of rock that stood against the ceaseless battering of the ocean, impossible to traverse without climbing. But there were spots — often hidden — allowing easier access. The beach ahead was one such place.

There, the cliffs were broken up for a short span; they gave way to boulders, then to smaller rocks and pebbles, and finally the sand. Macy’s boat lay on its side, between the high tide line and the surf. The large cloth the humans used to catch the wind flapped in the breeze.

He advanced slowly, fighting a current that wanted nothing more than to sweep him ashore.

When a figure rose from the sand beside the boat, Jax’s hearts thumped. Macy’s human was alive.

And — even from this distance — Jax knew it was a male.

The human moved to the long pole that held the wind-cloth, squatted, and lifted. He walked forward, sliding his hands as he moved, until the boat lay on its belly. The cloth billowed in the wind. Scrambling over the side, the human manipulated some ropes until the cloth hung limp.

Jax altered his color to match his surroundings as he eased closer. The human, shoulders heaving, sat in the boat with his head bowed. He remained that way for a time, oblivious to his surroundings.

Soon, Jax was close enough to make out the male’s features; his short, orange hair, the reddish hue to his skin, his wide nose and thick brows. He was larger than Macy, with a heavier build. The sand around the boat was dotted with tracks leading back forth along the beach and winding up toward the rocks beyond.

The human dragged his hands over his face, dropped them to his legs, and pushed himself up.

“Macy!” he shouted into the wind. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he repeated his call, louder than before. His voice broke as he dragged out the last part of her name.

Was this Macy’s mate?

Heat spread through Jax’s abdomen. She was Jax’s, now; he’d taken her from the sea, had brought her to safety, had — if she was to be believed — saved her life.

Climbing out of the boat, the human walked to its front, leaned down, and pushed. The boat began a slow journey toward the water.

Jax dug the tips of two tentacles into the soft sand beneath him, anchoring himself in place as he watched the human’s progress. The risk in keeping Macy was already too great; he shouldn’t allow this human to get away. If they were anything like kraken — and they seemed to be, in more ways than he was comfortable with — this one would report Macy missing. More would come, searching, and if they passed the area near the cave at the right moment, and Macy called out…

The human plunged into the water, walked alongside the boat until he was waist-deep, and swung himself up into the craft. It rocked as he moved to the pole. He tugged on the ropes, and the wind-cloth rose, filling with the sea breeze.

On land, humans were likely more dangerous, but the sea belonged to the kraken. It would be a simple thing to kill the male in the water.

Still, Jax didn’t make his move. For some reason, the look of utter sadness on Macy’s face came to the forefront of his mind.

The male manipulated the horizontal pole to alter the wind-cloth’s direction. His boat turned, riding the wind back toward the place the humans came from. Away from the cave. Away from Macy.

As the boat grew smaller with distance, Jax hoped he wouldn’t regret his hesitation.

It was difficult for Jax not to see the Facility with new eyes as he approached; having encountered a living human up-close, having talked to her and touched her, he was reminded that her kind had built the place. Many, many years had passed since humans dwelled in the Facility, but their mark was all over it. Their hands had crafted the metal walls and doorways, had placed the clear windows and put up the lights, had shaped the hallways and installed the strange devices.

The Facility had always sparked Jax’s curiosity, but it held only so much for him to explore. Though the Computer possessed a wealth of information, it only responded to certain requests, and generations of kraken hadn’t been able to unlock its secrets. The mysteries of the Facility were alluring…but the mysteries of the surrounding sea were far easier — if more dangerous — to solve.

Was it possible that Macy held the key? Did she know how to access the Facility’s secrets, would she understand the way it worked?

The place was a wonder; five individual structures nestled on the seafloor, interconnected by a series of human-built tunnels. Three of the structures had suffered damage during the Uprising and were fully flooded. They served as den space for the kraken — the safest, most secure shelter in the entire ocean.

Jax angled himself toward the glow of the exterior lights. They were beacons of hope in the vastness of the sea, a steady reminder that the kraken had a home, that the wrongs done to them in the past had not gone unpunished.

Two lights stood apart from the main building, a few body lengths from the door. When hunting parties left, they draped a net between the two posts. It signified their absence, and was meant as encouragement for those who remained — should we not return, you have the means to hunt, and we know you will be successful.

There was no net today; Arkon would be somewhere inside.

Jax stopped before the entrance door and pressed the buttons on the keypad beside it. Every kraken was taught the sequence from a young age, though the meaning of the symbols on the buttons had been lost to history. The light over the door changed from red to green, and it slid open.

He swam into the dim entry chamber and pressed the interior button. The door closed behind him, and the water drained from the room.

“Pressurization normalized,” the Computer said; this gentle, female voice was only one of the many it used.

The inside door hissed and opened. Pure, white light filled the hallway ahead. Jax took hold of the grip over the doorway and swung himself through. Water streamed off him as he moved down the hall, flowing into the drain channels on either side.

As infrequently as he visited since achieving adulthood, Jax knew this place well from his youth. Kraken younglings learned much in these hallways and chambers — from their elders, from the Computer, and from the ghosts.

He moved at a quick pace, pulling himself forward with arms and tentacles, and soon entered the largest — and strangest — room in this building.

The scent of old chemicals lingered in the Pool Room’s humid air, fouling each breath. Large metal lockers lined one wall, and various equipment Jax could not identify was scattered throughout the space. Some of it looked like the clothing humans wore. In the center of the room was a huge pool of water.

Jax moved to one of the floor hatches and tugged it open, lowering himself into the hallway below. Huge, clear windows ran along the entire inside wall, allowing an unhindered view of the pool.

Arkon was in the water, floating above his latest work. Thousands of stones were spread on the floor beneath him, carefully arranged by color to create intricate, flowing patterns. He reached down with the tip of a tentacle to adjust some of the stones.

Reaching forward, Jax tapped his knuckles on the glass. Arkon turned in a torrent of bubbles, skin flaring yellow before shifting back to its normal blue-gray. He smiled and signed that he would come up.

Jax climbed the ladder, emerging from the lower chamber just as Arkon drew himself out of the pool.

“You must be nearly done,” Jax said.

Arkon dropped his bag on the floor; the stones inside clacked together. “I have almost finished the base layer, but it will take many more days to achieve balance in the patterns.”

When they were younglings, Arkon had been fascinated by the human ghosts in the facility and had spent long hours listening to them and speaking with the Computer. He knew words the others did not understand; did he know what a gardener was?

Jax moved to the edge of the pool and looked down. Arkon’s work was distorted by the reflection of the overhead light on the water’s surface, but the overall design was clear. The large, central circle was surrounded by rings of varying size, all of which were connected by swirling patterns that reminded Jax of water current. The shifts in color from one portion to the next were subtle but unmistakable.

He’d watched Arkon work for long enough to know that each stone had been placed with purpose, following instructions only Arkon could see.

Jax was a hunter, a warrior, a restless explorer, but he envied Arkon’s skill. The others called it useless, but wasn’t there something to be said for a pleasing image? Wasn’t there some value in something that could instill feeling in a single glance, even if that feeling was fleeting?

“I do not have the words to describe it, Arkon.”

“Incomplete. Unsatisfactory. Ordinary.” Arkon blew mist from his siphons. “Uninspired. It is missing something.”

Tilting his head, Jax swept his eyes over Arkon’s work. Even with the individual stones blurred by the water, the intricacy and detail were apparent. Arkon had never crafted anything on such a scale, and it was, in Jax’s opinion, his most impressive work yet.

“It needs…heart,” Jax said. “Something in the center, to give it life.”

Arkon leaned forward and peered into the pool. His skin shifted toward blue. “Yes. A centerpiece. Something…of a different shade than all the rest. I wish you would stay for longer periods. Things are easier when you are here.”

“I’m leaving again.”

“I know.” Arkon moved to his bag, hunched down, and rummaged through its contents.

“You know?”

“You always go, Jax the Wanderer. It is your nature. How far will you trek this time?”

“Not far. A few days, perhaps.”

Lifting a smooth stone from the bag, Arkon held it in his palm and turned it, examining it briefly before he replaced it. “Good. Dracchus will likely call a hunt soon, and, though he despises you, he is displeased when you are not here to join.”

“To the abyss with Dracchus.”

Arkon lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug without ceasing his search. “You know how the rest are. They respect your prowess, though they distrust you because you are so often away. As strange as they think me, they at least always know where I am.”

“If we wish to survive as a people, we will need to leave this place one day. Where will we go if someone like me does not find another place for us to dwell? I endanger only myself.” Even as he spoke the words, Jax knew they were what Arkon would call a half-truth.

Such selfless reasons for Jax’s treks were hollow justification. At heart, he could not deny the call to wander; it was in his blood. Staying too long in any single place made him restless and fouled his mood. He needed open water, needed the thrill of the unknown, needed to be away from the pointless posturing of the other kraken.

How would he react to the news that Jax had captured a human, and was keeping her as his own? If Jax had hundreds of questions for her, Arkon would have thousands.

“Vanishing every few days will not convince them of that, Jax. You’ve known this for a long while.”

“I am not interested in convincing them of anything. The others can think for themselves and decide what they will. I’ll continue to hunt for our food and scout new areas, regardless.”

Arkon closed his bag and rose. “I know what I need!”

“What?”

“If you come across a shard of halorium — the glowing stones the ancients used to harvest — would you bring it to me?” He returned to the edge of the pool and stared over his work. “It would serve as the perfect heart for this piece.”

“Those stones do strange things to the Facility,” Jax said. In the presence of halorium, lights flickered, the ghosts were broken and distorted, and the Computer’s voice was crackly and faint. Larger stones produced more powerful effects.

“There are still containers for them, in the Underneath. That will allow you to bring one inside without causing issues.”

“But once it is removed from the container—”

“Make it a small one, then. The pool is isolated enough that a small shard shouldn’t adversely affect the functions of the nearby equipment.”

Jax could only stare at his friend; Arkon’s skin pulsed with his excitement, and his eyes were bright, viewing possibilities no one else could see.

“I will watch for one,” Jax finally said.

“Thank you. May the currents carry you where you would go, Jax.”

“And may the stones fall as you would have them lie, Arkon.”

As Arkon plucked up his bag and plunged back into the pool, Jax exited the chamber and made his way back to the entry doors. He entered the sequence.

“Please wait while the chamber is prepared,” the computer said.

The floor hummed as unseen machines did their work. Jax inhaled deeply; it was a short wait, but that made it no more bearable. This was the last barrier between him and the sea. The door finally opened, and he entered the small chamber; another push of a button, and the room flooded.

When he emerged, his attention was drawn immediately to the kraken gathered near the detached lights ahead. A small group ringed a pair of males who were locked in a dance.

The larger of the two was Dracchus; his skin pulsated from black to red as he moved, powerful tentacles spinning through the water in a blur. The motion created new patterns, blurs of brightness and splashes of color that whirred by with increasing speed, complexity, and ferocity. The other male struggled to keep up, but he could not match Dracchus’s power and aggression.

Their dance descended into chaos as the two suddenly charged one another. The eruption of thrashing tentacles was too frantic for Jax to track, but the males separated almost as quickly as they’d attacked. The challenger slunk backward, skin pale in admission of his defeat.

Jax swam forward. Such spectacles were popular for onlookers, but held no true meaning. Dracchus was strong — everyone knew it, and required no further proof.

As he passed the gathering, Dracchus — his skin reverted to its normal black — caught Jax’s gaze and held it. Crimson flared on Dracchus’s shoulders; a challenge.

Jax held Dracchus’s eyes for a few more heartbeats and turned away, not slowing his pace. Something far more important — and more interesting — waited for him elsewhere.