For the most part, we travelled in silence. Cyrus was a frowning mess as he tried to navigate, cursing every time the boat flipped out in the opposite direction that was intended. Some of the streets were deceiving, leading off into dead ends; the newfound sense of daylight which had come with Lumen's Sabrina-the-fucked-up-witch act helped more than words could say. Without it, if left to the mercy of the dusky grey skyline, we would have been lost the second the dryland left our sight.

"So you're really scared of the dark?" I checked, just because the silence had become insufferable. The breaking of the water, the make-shift oars plunging...