“I don’t like it,” he said, but if what she said was true—he was stuck with it. He tossed the anchor over the side; cold water splashed his arms as the chain snaked down behind it. Fifteen feet deep, maybe a little more: That wasn’t too bad. “Okay. Just—work as fast as possible.”

“Trust me, I intend to.” Nadia had kicked off her sweatpants and shoes, too; she wore only the swimsuit and hugged herself as she looked over the edge. Mateo tried not to stare, at least not to drool like that jerk Jeremy Prasad would, but it was hard not to—she was so close to him, close enough to touch.

For a moment he found himself remembering last summer at the beach, and the girl who’d hooked up with him on a dare. But now, in his mind, he imagined that this time it was Nadia lying on the towel with him beneath the pier, her fingers tangled in his hair as he ran one hand along her bare leg—

Jesus, she’s about to do something seriously dangerous, could you concentrate for a second? Mateo handed her the wrist flashlight he’d brought for his own use. “Here. And if you run into trouble, flick the light off and on really fast, okay?”

“Good idea.” Nadia slipped it on, tested the switch, and took a deep breath. “Point to where you think it is—exactly where.”

He leaned next to her, so that they were shoulder to shoulder, their foreheads touching. Nadia took one sharp breath that made the boat seem to rock and bob even more strongly beneath them. Lifting her hand with his, he made it so that their fingers pointed together to the core of the greenish fire. “Right there.”

“I’ve got it.”

Nadia turned to him as she spoke, and for one moment they remained like that—face-to-face, only inches apart.

Then she said, “Wish me luck.”

Before he could do that, or say anything else, Nadia gulped in a breath and went over the edge, diving into the chilly sound without hesitating. The boat rocked beneath him.

And then—only then—did Mateo remember the dream of her floating overhead, writhed in the murk, her hair flowing around her. He’d thought she was suspended in midair, amid the fog.

But what if the dream had showed her underwater?

The cold stabbed into Nadia through every inch of her skin, and it took all her will not to open her mouth and gasp water into her lungs. She slapped on the wrist light, pointing the beam ahead of her—and thanks to Mateo’s guidance, she saw it almost immediately. In a nest of seaweed lay a chest, half-dissolved by time and tide, its ancient boards warped free of the metal framework. A crab scuttled by in the murk, the light glinting off its shell.

With a few strong kicks, Nadia propelled herself toward it. With any luck she could grab whatever was in the chest right away and get back to the surface within seconds. Then she could put on her clothes, dry her hair, and be warm again—be ready to explore this thing—