An uncertain time.

An uncertain place.

She hears him scream. The sound begins as something distinctly human and ends as something that is… not. She screams too as she sees him change. She screams as the change overtakes her. When she goes blind, it comes as a relief; though she will never forget the last image her eyes -her real eyes- beheld. He turned to her; his skin already bubbling, his blood already blackening. In his expression, compressed between the anguish and the terror, was a single question: ‘why does it spare you and not me?’

PROLOGUE

She was a young woman, red of hair and pale of flesh. She sucked ocean salted air into her lungs as if the extra breaths could make a difference in the coming ordeal. Attendants wrapped a thick, waterproof suit around her wiry frame. She tried not to think about the suffocating fabric or how heavy it would feel. She tried not to think about the bob and dip of the ship. The young woman merely tried to focus on her training.

            Assurances had been made that her skills were probably sufficient to survive this ordeal. The only factor of concern would be her ability to silence the panic of mortal danger; that… and her discipline with her own powers.

            As her hands were bound behind her back, a sturdy brass helmet was affixed about her head and shoulders. It was spacious inside the dome of the helmet; more than enough space to turn her head without touching the sides.

            The young woman finally permitted herself to open her eyes. There was a small circular window at the front of the helmet, affording her a view of the deep blue ocean and the brilliant azure of the sky. The two planes of blue bobbed in her sight, never in equilibrium. But there was balance of a sort. The instant one of the planes threatened to dominate her vision, the other would begin waxing until it too nearly filled her vision. She was certain that the effect was intentional and that she was meant to take some lesson from it. For the moment, however, she was content to focus on merely keeping the contents of her stomach where they were.

            Another sight filled her vision. It was the visage of a wizened old man, his eyes the same misty green as hers. “We are ready,” his voice was muffled by the thick layer of metal between them, “do you want to continue?”

            She nodded. “Yes, grandfather,” she said; unsure whether her own voice could be heard beyond the brazen dome. The corners of his mouth twitched downward, but his eyes did not waver. At length, a lid closed over the window; leaving the young woman in complete darkness. She held her breath. From this point on, each lungful would be precious.

            There was no air tank.

            There was no lifeline.

            The young woman waited for something to happen. She was not kept waiting long. At once, in a manner she felt rather than heard, the dull rattle of a heavy chain alerted her that the weight had been cast over the side. In the next moment, there was an irresistible jerk at her ankles; yanking her off the deck and into the deep.

            She resisted the urge to scream or hyperventilate as she felt the cold pressure of the ocean fold itself around the suit. The woman was chilled, but she was dry. This is fine. She assured herself. This is normal.

            One breath was all she afforded herself on the way to the bottom. She did not know how many breaths the dome would allow, but she had been told that it was best not to waste them. Her feet touched the bottom much sooner than she had expected, but she did not allow herself any sense of relief. Every component of this ordeal was a test; if something happened that she didn’t expect, that wasn’t good news.

            She was tempted to work against her bonds immediately, but she hesitated. Instead, the young woman took another deep breath and began to cant. Anima swelled inside her -power that threatened to overtake her the instant she tapped into it. It threatened to change her; to twist her into something grotesque.

            But it did not.

            The power ebbed as soon as it came, shunted into her ‘canticle’; an opalescent gem at the center of an amulet hung around her neck. What Anima remained was much diminished but still useful. The words of her cant gave it purpose. Its purpose at the moment was to tell the young woman about her surroundings.

            Impressions began to form in her mind. The terrain of the sea floor was strange; at once chaotic and symmetrical. The sand and coral was arrayed in irregular, almost boxy shapes of wildly varying heights. These rugged outcrops were grouped in clusters and separated by wide yet shallow trenches that wound between the clusters in a seemingly deliberate fashion.

            She furrowed her brow. Oddities in the terrain were the least of her concerns. The most pressing matter was whether she was in immediate danger. New words entered her cant, revealing the life around her. This wasn’t much help; crabs, fish, eels, and legions of other heartbeats surrounded her. She focused on filtering out all the things she judged too small to eat her. That helped a lot. There were indeed sharks about but they did not seem too interested in her at the moment.

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