The first thing Elias noticed was the water rising.
It was cold and black, seeping through the cracks in the cavern floor. The Cradle's glow had faded to a dim ember, but the sea was coming back, and it was angry. The ship sat canted on the rock shelf, its hull groaning as the water lifted it, then dropped it with a grinding shudder.
Elias pushed himself up, his body screaming. The children lay around him, motionless, their skin pale. Lyra's hand was still in his. He squeezed it. "Lyra. Wake up."
Her eyes fluttered open. "Elias... the door..."
"Closed. We have to move." He looked around. Voss was dragging herself toward the platform, her leg twisted beneath her. Jesus and Valdez were already on their feet, pulling at the stranded ship's moorings. It was beached, but the water was climb
