Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

AQUA

There's nothing better than being underwater. My brothers disagree, but they're wrong. When I'm not in water, it feels like something's missing… and the few times I've been to the desert, I could barely breathe.

Not that I really need to breathe. Well, I do, but… not. I'm in a human body right now, but I'm still not really human, which means breathing is kind of optional. Though if I went without it for long enough, maybe it would become non-optional? It's hard to know without trying, and I don't care enough to try.

George might know—or Flame. They like to do brainy thought stuff sometimes.

I'm not even going to suggest it to Zephyr, though. He gets squirrelly at the idea of no air. He won't even come swimming with me—says the water doesn't have enough air in it and he feels like he's drowning even when he's just ankle-deep. So dramatic. There's plenty of air in water. I'm still breathing, aren't I?

Wait… am I?

I smile at the fish that's wandered over to kiss my shoulder, and an air bubble escapes my mouth. I guess I must be breathing or at least absorbing the oxygen my human body needs in some way. Being the essence of water means it pretty much does whatever I need it to.

Because water is awesome .

It's only in the water that my thoughts are truly clear. Only in the water that I feel whole.

I've lost track of how long I've been down here, but the subtle change of the tide tells me it's been a long time. The thought of leaving the water and going back to the house is blech, but Perry worries if I'm gone for too long. He's always been like that, in every incarnation. It doesn't matter that he remembers all his past lives now and knows I can't come to harm in water; he still frets when any of us are gone for too long. He's like a crab or a sea snail—a soft inside protected by a hard shell. It's only been six months since Aether found him and they rejoined us, but we all fell into our old habits immediately. We know what our job is, and we're determined to get it done. To win. We don't want to lose another species. Even if this one does seem determined to destroy itself and this wonderful gift of a planet.

I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive humanity for what they've done to my precious water. The poison is everywhere, and always I hear the whisper of sorrow in raindrops and currents. The pain of?—

A new whisper drifts to me on the tide, and I tilt my head to listen. A man… in trouble?

No… not in trouble yet . But the water says he will be.

My only response is surprise. Since when does the water care about humans drowning? The tide is eternal and will continue until the Earth ends. Species come and go; some live within the water, others don't. The ebb and flow of the waves pays them no mind.

But the current whispers to me again, more urgently. This man is different. This man is special .

I'm curious enough to investigate. It's time for me to head to shore, anyway. It's Perry's turn to cook, which means takeout, and if I'm not there in time for the discussion about what to order, I won't be able to insist on soup. We'll probably end up getting barbecue again, like George always wants. There's so little water in chargrilled meat that it makes me want to weep. Everyone knows soup is the best ; George is just too stubborn to admit it. Stubborn like a rock, as Perry says.

I'm not stubborn. I go with the flow—like water. I take the path of least resistance, but somehow, I always get my way in the end.

Mostly.

Giving myself over to the urging of the current, I drift in the direction of the troubled man. Troublesome man? Neither of those seems right, but does it matter? He's a man. Trouble is somehow involved. How it's said isn't important.

I find the man in the area the humans call La Jolla Canyon. He's scuba diving, and based on the various pouches and containers and bags he has attached to him, I'm guessing he's a scientist and not just out here for kicks. Either that or he's a poacher looking for rare and endangered species to steal, but it's hardly likely the water would warn me about the danger to him in that situation.

For a moment, I just watch him. I'm too far for his human eyes to see me—most of my observations are from the water itself. He's incredibly absorbed in his task, which right now is taking pictures with an underwater camera of the fish in the area. I don't sense any predators nearby that might pose a risk to him, and he seems to know what he's doing, but the ocean insists that he's in danger and urges me closer.

That's when I see it. A tiny, teensy bubble rising from his air cylinder.

I'm pretty sure that's not supposed to happen. Air bubbles mean air is escaping, which would mean the man has less air than he planned… but those breathy-thingies tell people that, right? Like, there's a dial or a whatsit that shows them how much air is left?

Studying the man again and how absorbed he is in what he's doing, I don't think he's going to check the dial whatsit in time.

Around me, the water swirls anxiously. It wants me to save the man. To warn him he's running out of air and get him to the surface.

Meh. Why not? I have nothing else to do, and he's not hurting anything.

Okay… pretend to be human. What would a human do in this situation?

Swim! A human couldn't use the natural movement of the water to propel themselves—they'd need to swim. I can swim! I'll just swim over to him and pretend to be another human enjoying the water.

Moving my arms and legs like I've seen other people do, I quickly realize that swimming isn't a very efficient way of traveling through water. No matter how much I flap and kick, I'm barely moving at all! At this rate, the man's gonna drown before I even get halfway to him.

Giving up on that idea, I fall back on my usual methods. He probably won't notice that I'm not swimming—humans are really good at ignoring things they can't explain. Flame tried to tell me the theory behind it once, but I got bored because he never mentioned anything about water. I think I was also high at the time… sometimes that's the only way I can handle not being in the water. The others say I'm too needy.

I'm right beside the man before he even sees me, and the way he flails tells me I've surprised him. Oops. I reach out to grab his arm before he can get too far, then smile wide to show him I'm a friend. I can't really see his face behind the goggles and breathing apparatus, but the way he tenses under my hand seems to imply that he's not reassured.

Too bad. The ocean's warnings are getting more and more urgent, so I gesture toward the air tanks on his back, then mime a bubble rising from them.

He tugs away from me. I guess he didn't understand. Fuck. How am I going to do this? The easiest way would be to grab him and head for the surface—the water would help me even if he struggled. But I've watched enough divers to know humans can't do that. They need to ascend slowly to keep their brains from exploding… or something. George explained it to me, but I tuned out after the first bit. The relevant part was that fast pressure changes are bad for humans.

Which means I'm going to need his cooperation.

Grabbing his arm again, I look for the dial thingy. It's gotta be—there! I point at it, nodding urgently, and after another few seconds of resistance, he reaches for it. What he sees makes him flail again, and again, I steady him. Making sure I have his attention, I point up, then nod encouragingly.

It takes a lot longer than the ocean wants for us to reach the surface, and I can sense its impatience, but the man is insistent on stopping at regular intervals, even though I can feel the tension in his arm. I guess that makes sense—exploding brains are serious things. Finally, though, our heads break the surface, and he pulls out the mouthpiece and takes a huge gulp of air.

"Oh my god," he gasps. "Oh my god."

I wait patiently for him to finish his prayers. I don't really understand human religions—they keep changing, for one thing, so even if I tried, I don't think I could keep up. But I can be respectful of his customs.

He seems to be done, though, because the next thing he says is, "My boat… shit, where's my boat? I can't think. Rein it in, River. Don't panic."

"I'm not River, this is the ocean, and I'm not panicking," I tell him helpfully. Then, when the water whispers the information to me, I point north. "Your boat's that way. It's not far. Let me help you." The water's relatively calm today, but humans are delicate, and it's not flat . With the tide coming in, the size of the swells will increase a little.

"I know you're not River," he says wildly. " I'm River." He blinks at me. "You have no gear. Are you a merman? Oh my god, are you a hallucination? I still had oxygen! I can't have… But I did come up too fast. Is this the first sign of the bends?"

The… bends? And he thinks he's a river?

"I've been told I'm very bendy," I offer. I still can't see his face properly, but he seems nice, and the water likes him, so we could have sex if he wants to. Even if he does think he's a river instead of a human.

"He was there before I started ascending," he mutters, and since he seems to be talking to himself and not me, I get on with the task of taking him to his boat. The ocean helpfully gets us moving in that direction.

He doesn't seem to notice.

"…could be oxygen deprivation, but the gauge said I still had air, even if it was low. But clearly the equipment is faulty, since I was supposed to have another hour's worth, and… wait, what time is it? Did the regulator fail, or the dive computer?"

"There was air escaping from your tank." It seems like information he might like to know. "Here's your boat."

He stares at it, then turns to look at me. "How did we get here? I… I really am hallucinating, aren't I? Maybe I'm actually drowning right now, and this is just my brain's attempt to make it painless."

"You're not drowning. I saved you," I remind him. "I think you should get in the boat."

Nodding slowly, he reaches toward the ladder at the back. It's not a big boat, but it's bigger than a lot of the ones divers come out in. "I'm not sure if it's safe for me to drive," he says as he climbs out of the water. "My dive computer should have told me I was low on air, so I can't trust any of those readouts, and I know I came to the surface faster than I should have. What if there's a nitrogen bubble in my blood right now, just waiting to cause an embolism?"

I didn't understand most of that, but I know what nitrogen is. "I have a friend who can check that for you!" Grabbing the ladder, I clamber out of the water and into the boat. "Come with me—I'll take you to him now."