A Thousand Pieces of You

“Okay,” Theo says, taking a deep breath. He flips the comm switch back to on. “Salacia? Salacia, this is—what, Submersible One? It’s Theo and Marguerite. Over.”


No response, not even static: We’re too deep for our communications system to work.

He runs one hand through his hair. “So, we have to stay calm and figure out—”

I slam Theo’s head into the console, as hard as I can.

In the split second he’s stunned, I claw at his throat, forcing him down the way he forced me. “We’re not partners.” The words grind out through my gritted teeth. “We never will be. Tell Conley that.”

Theo’s stronger than I am—he throws me off, and I stagger backward. Before he can follow, though, I get myself on the other side of the divide and hit the button that separates the sub compartments. The watertight doors slam shut, separating me from Theo—him in the front with the now useless control panel, and me in the back with the diving gear.

Fortunately the lock is clearly labeled. I make sure it’s activated, keeping us apart.

“Marguerite?” Theo’s face appears in the door’s thin sliver of superthick glass. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting out of here.”

Because one of the other very clearly labeled things in the back is the ESCAPE POD.

The small, circular passageway is something I can slide through easily; what waits on the other side is a tiny dark sphere that will require me to curl into a ball. What about air? What about getting back to the surface? I’d assume something like this is pretty much automated—but I don’t like making assumptions almost a thousand feet underwater. Still, my only alternative is hanging around here. Theo’s going to figure out how to get through that lock sooner or later. Probably sooner. So I have to go.

“You can’t make it up on your own from this depth,” Theo calls through the thick glass. “Don’t kill yourself trying to get away from me, all right? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m getting out of here and going home,” I repeat, stepping closer to the door where he stands. “And I’m taking my dad with me.”

Then I slam my hand against the glass and watch Theo’s eyes widen as he sees what I’ve been holding in my palm—his Firebird.

The one I snatched from his neck during our fight. The one he was counting on to get him out of this—and the one that’s going to bring my father back where he belongs.

“Come on. Don’t do this.” Theo’s face is white. Good.

“You thought this dimension was good enough to strand Dad in,” I say as I go to the escape pod’s opening. “Hope you like being stranded here too.”

“Marguerite!”

Then I slide into the pod, and Theo’s words are muffled so that I can’t exactly hear him any longer.

Right now, I’m in a lot more danger than he is. This submarine seems to be intact; even if it can’t move right now, it’s watertight and pressurized. Sure, Theo is stuck, but a crew from the Salacia will be down as soon as possible. As angry as Dad’s going to be when he realizes the truth about Theo, he’d never leave anyone to die.

Me? I’m launching myself into the hostile world beyond the sub—into the cold, crushing dark.

But if I stay here, eventually Theo’s going to get through that door. He’ll get the Firebird back from me, and then Dad and I will once again be at the mercy of Wyatt Conley’s schemes.

That’s not going to happen.

Shaking, I hit the yellow panel that says Launch Prep.

Metal discs pinwheel out from the sides of the door to seal me in completely. There’s a distant pounding, probably Theo throwing himself against the doors in a last, desperate bid to get my attention, but I refuse to look.

No expansive large windows here—just a slim transparent sliver that lets me see just how forbidding it is outside. Nothing is near us, nothing at all except the depth of the crevasse. But this is my only chance. I suck in a deep breath, put my hand to the red panel that says Final Launch—and hit it.

Instantly metal clamps click and thud, and then the pod falls into the ocean.

At first I’m terrified. I’m falling! I’m going to fall all the way down—but then some sort of motor kicks in and propels me upward. Then it feels like liberation. As unbelievably dark and cramped as it is in here, I’m free.

Down this far, it’s too dark to see the surface of the water. Maybe I could on a brighter day, but the storm overhead is blocking what little light might penetrate this deep. The only illumination comes from the glow-in-the-dark paint within the pod . . . but that’s not much, just a few lines within the panels. Probably I was supposed to bring some kind of flashlight in here with me. I’ll have to remember that next time, I think, but it’s not funny.

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