Jiang chose the living river.
The decision did not make the other loss smaller.
To his right, storm-colored light wrapped the diver and the stolen seed. The red lantern beyond the ribs pulled both deeper with every beat. One strong kick might still carry Jiang into their wake.
He could imagine the pursuit because anger made it easy. Catch the severed socket. Tear the seed loose. Make the thief pay before the Armada swallowed another piece of this world. The picture ended wherever his rage wanted it to, before the brood river collapsed behind him and buried every slower body inside it.
To his left, the brood river folded around a widening tear.
The emperor female called once. Her chick answered from the moss passage. Farther back, Bellwyrm dragged the burned forelimb across wet root while the living-bell adult urged its calf through the same narrowing breath.
None of them called for Jiang.
They called because they were alive and trying to remain that way.
