They took shelter in the second-floor window of a drowned bank, because Erik wouldn't let Kai keep rowing with his hands wrapped in torn sleeves.
The skiff bumped against a brass frame where a glass pane had once been. Inside, the lobby was a flat black pond with a teller counter standing in it like an island. The ceiling was high enough to hide the sound of their breathing. Killian climbed through first, mostly because Erik had stopped trusting him near open water. His legs gave out halfway across the sill, and Erik caught him by the collar before he could slide back into the flood.
"I'm fine," Killian said into the wall.
"You're gray."
"I'm fine. It's just a headache."
"You vomited on the boat."
