Free Fathomless by Jackson Pearce Page A

there’s a sign, on the door of your house. I think it’s your name, I think it’s—”
    “Kelly.” The word falls off my tongue simply, perfectly. “That’s my last name. Naida Kelly.”
    “Right,” Celia says. She releases my arm, shudders like touching me hurt her. “Sorry,” she says when she notices me looking. “I’ve never done it on purpose before. It isn’t really fun, looking into people’s pasts, and that… that scream…”
    I nod, then stare out over the ocean. That’s where Lo lives—that’s her home. Sounds drift down from somewhere above the pier, melodies and hums and generators buzzing. Acarnival, it sounds like. I want to go, but… I can’t walk. I’m naked. I’m Naida, but I still look like Lo.
    “Can you help me remember anything else?” I ask Celia.
    “Maybe. It’s hard to tell,” Celia says. “It’s strange—everything in your head is dark. I think the more you remember, the more I see to help you remember, especially since that scream is in my way.”
    “But there’s more, right? There are more memories there, somewhere?”
    “Yes,” Celia says. “People block out memories all the time, but they’re always there. Even people with Alzheimer’s, the memories are still there….” She drifts off, like she’s said more than she wanted.
    The tide has been creeping in as we talk; it won’t reach us, exactly, but it’s close enough now that occasionally we feel the ocean’s spray. The sky is dark blue, balancing on the edge of night. I keep trying to dig deeper in my memories, see more, but all I can get are glimpses, tiny flashes. Then Celia touches me again, tells me about something she sees in my mind, and it jump-starts my own recollections. Still, they only go so far. After another hour, it’s clear that I’ve remembered all I can—and besides, Celia is starting to look worn from digging through my mind. I feel guilty, move a little away from her so she doesn’t have to touch me again, even accidentally.
    But despite all that, in the back of my head, there’s always the ocean—not the one here, the surface of the ocean thateveryone sees. There’s the hidden world, the place deep underwater where everything is cold. There’s Lo. She gets louder and louder, aching to slip into the waves. She is me, and yet she isn’t—it’s like we’re forced to share this body.
My
body. I squeeze my eyes shut to try to ignore her, but a moment later, my gaze is cast over the sea. Lo is stronger than me right now, her urge to return to the waves more powerful than my longing to stay here. We aren’t even fighting, yet I know she’ll win.
    My eyes burn from salt and tears. “I can’t stay here.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “The water. I’ve got to get back in the water—no.
She
has to get back in the water. She needs it to live….”
    “Are you sure?” Celia asks. “I could talk to my sisters, maybe…. Our dorm is sort of close…. Can you leave the shore?”
    “I don’t know,” I say, frustrated. “I don’t know anything. It’s just… she’s pulling me to her home, and I don’t think I can ignore her much longer.”
    Celia looks down, shakes her head, like she can’t believe what she’s about to say. “I can come back. If you want. In a few days, maybe?”
    “Yes,” I say instantly. “I’d like that. Please.”
    Celia nods, looks like she’s readying herself for battle. I exhale, rise, wince as the pain shoots through my feet. She moves to help me, but I dodge her hands—she shouldn’t have to touch me, have to remember for me again. I grimace andawkwardly slide the towel off my body. Celia takes it and looks away.
    Lo knows how the ocean works. She knows how to dive into the water. But as I walk forward, I’m afraid. This isn’t my world. It isn’t right, it isn’t—
    I sigh involuntarily when the first wave brushes around my feet, soothing the pain. Another step, another, and with each one I feel better—like I was sick and I’m