For a moment, no one moved.
No one knew what to do.
Althea's gaze remained fixed on the water's surface, wide with disbelief. She desperately waited for Acheron to emerge from the depths, to have somehow freed himself and was making his way back to the surface. He couldn't be gone. Not like that. Not so fast. He wouldn't do that to her.
"No," she shook her head. "No—no, he's not—he's not—!"
Refusing to stand idle, she dashed to the corner where Atticus had kept her bow and snatched it up. She rushed back to the edge in a flash, her fingers trembling as she nocked the arrow.
Worried she might hit Acheron if she tried anything in a rush, Revana tried to stop her, but Esme held her back. She shook her head, as if saying she should let Althea do what she wants.
