Harper
The floor went out from under us.
Not cracked. Gone, like somebody yanked a tablecloth and forgot the dishes were us. I dropped a foot before Vane's arm slammed across my chest and hauled me back into him.
"What's happening?" Vane asked.
"Noah." I grabbed a fistful of his shirt. "That last memory got to him. Whatever we just watched, he's feeling it out there, and in here that turns into weather."
The black ocean was churning now, the glass that had held us splintering into shards that spun off into the dark. Above us the storm that had been circling the edges this whole time decided to quit being polite.
"Cut it," Vane said. "We pull out. Come back tomorrow."
"No." I felt it before I could put it into words, a deep drag pulling us down and in, toward something huge and old s
