The thing beneath the water pulled harder than Aylin did.
Jiang's coat loop bit into his sound shoulder. His feet left the sloping glass, and the dark throat took him breast-first.
Water entered through the Wake Scar and slid straight under his feathers.
He kicked with both feet.
His bitten straight leg opened late. Its web caught water at the wrong angle and turned him until his cracked beak struck the wall. His jaw rang with pain, bright enough to spend breath on.
Jiang kept his mouth shut.
Living glass had folded across the opening behind him. Aylin was gone. No voice crossed the black curve, and the line at his shoulder carried only the pull below.
His human mind wanted a floor, a handrail, and an unreasonable conversation with whoever had designed the passage.
His body had water.
