Water. There's water everywhere. She hasn't seen this much water since that week it wouldn't stop pouring in Medietas. It's a strange collaterally violent bounce to hear Thorfinn's voice and know he's right behind her, the same as he was with her then, but not the same. Never the same. She knows that. Yet it's more visceral a feeling now, since the meeting, since realizing he's as green as all the rest, just like she was an idiot, and because of all the fucking water everywhere all around them.

The floor creaks and gives in spots, too soft to feel like ground. Furniture is already soaked up a few inches. But she can't let it stop her. No more than Thorfinn's second choice of shouting that word at her, like he hasn't learned anything in the four months he's known her. Careful is not a grace she was given. Especially not in places like this. Not even when she slides on a step she takes too fast and has to catch herself hard with a shoulder against a wall, swearing at a burst of pain.