The body was settling to the bottom of the pool. Gael could make out arms and a face, darker than his own but still bright against the stones of the bottom. The body was too deep and the water too restless to make out much more. More about the body, anyway: he could see fish in the water as well, getting ideas.

  He threw his pack aside, took a breath, and dove in. Despite the air in his lungs Gael sank like a rock, a few strokes getting him in reach. He crouched and got his arms under the body, thought a moment and then simply walked along the bottom. They were heavier than he’d expected, and not just because they were wearing a pack like his: their body felt as though it had been carved from granite, even compared to his own remade muscle. Still, he was more than able to carry them to the shore.

  Gael set the body down and checked for a pulse, eyeing the studs lining the arms in subtly different patterns. He couldn’t find a beat there, nor could he feel any breath. The face was still and expressionless, broad features framed by a short crop of hair. Gael set palm to chest and tried to press life into the heart as his father had taught him. Had the body been floating he might have hoped, but he’d never seen someone at the bottom like this come back-

  “Get off and back away, slowly. Do it or die.”

  Gael did as he was told, feeling the thin, fluttering edge of a knife’s tip at the back of his neck.

  “Why did you kill them?”

  Gael blinked. “Father told me it was best to be polite to strangers. Killing one would have been very rude. If you don’t mind, I was-”

  The knife pressed a little harder. “Are you messing with me?”

  “That would also be rude. Please, I’m trying to help.”

  There was a pause. “Fine. If you hurt them, you’ll be sorry.”

  “Obviously your father didn’t teach you the same things.”

  There was a nervous, quickly stifled laugh and Gael felt the knife pull away. He knelt and took up the rhythm again, cocking his head enough to see the stranger. They were slender and tall, taller than Gael in his new body. The same swirl of metal studs was visible on the stranger’s arms. A Martyr as well. Wide, startlingly blue eyes framed an aquiline nose and a mouth that seemed made for a thin, grim life. Gael turned back to his work, pausing to check the pulse again. Nothing.

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  “What are you doing?” the stranger asked.

  “My father said they were called chest compressions. Everyone knows how.” Gael paused. “Where I’m from, anyway.” A litter of memories blew through his mind’s eye as he resumed. “If you’re a Martyr too, I’m surprised you don’t, you know, remember.”

  “I remember,” snapped the stranger after a startled pause. “I just… I’ve never done it myself. Is everything you say just a reference to your father?”

  “Yes,” Gael said politely. “That, my mother, or fishing. That’s all there was to talk about in my old life. You ask many questions. If you don’t mind, I would like to ask one.”

  “… Sure?”

  “Father said it is polite to introduce myself to strangers. I am Gael, son of Cordelia. I come from the village north of the Singing Atoll, where the red whales court.” Gael glanced at the stranger, who was looking rather uncertain. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Wynn, child of Lapis VII. I’m from Greater Caperri.” Wynn, apparently no longer feeling threatened, put the knife away.

  “What is that?” Gael asked.

  “It’s the biggest city-spire in the Lapis system,” Wynn said warily.

  “Oh, a city.” Gael stopped and turned to face them. “Father said they were like villages that towered into the sky, made of metal and marvels. How many people live there, thousands?”

  Wynn sputtered a moment but ignored the question. “Shouldn’t you still be doing chest compressions?”

  Gael shook his head. “They haven’t coughed by now, so-” he thumped the body’s chest and it reared up, retching a spray of water. Wynn jumped back with an undignified yelp. Gael, catching a fair bit of spray in the face, smiled from where he sat. “Oh, good! Hello, I’m-”

  Faster than the eye could follow, a knife was out and at Gael’s throat. Beneath a bought of coughing the voice was cold and firm. “Get off me and back away, slowly. Do it or die.”

  Gael obliged, slowly backing up to stand side by side with Wynn. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked them. “You said the same thing.”

  Wynn just shook their head. “You probably saved their life. Look,” he said, stepping forward. “He’s Gael, from the singing whales, and he’s a little odd but he seems like a perfectly decent human being. My name is Wynn, and I’d appreciate it if you’d put the knife away and introduce yourself.”

  “Singing Atoll,” Gael said helpfully. “Red whales.”

  “I’m Naomi, Daughter of the Falling Star.” She said slowly, sheathing her knife. “Thank you, I suppose.”

  “You’re welcome,” Gael said. “Why were you at the bottom of the pool?”

  Naomi’s cheeks gained a delicate shade of pink. “I… I jumped.”

  “You jumped? Into the waterfall?” Wynn stared at her, then up to the cliff where she must have leapt off. “Why?”

  The pink darkened by a few shades. “I got excited, alright?! I grew up in space, so I’ve never seen a waterfall before. It was on my list.”

  “Space?” Gael said excitedly. “Father said space was like the bottom of the ocean, but without a bottom and with no fish. What did you eat?”

  Naomi shook her head and smiled at Wynn. “Your friend is a little odd.”

  “Knows what he’s doing, though.” Wynn shrugged. “Unlike us.”

  Naomi laughed, and Gael smiled at her. They all shared grins for a moment.

  It was good to have company again.