The hatchling coughed again.
Water covered the sound before Jiang could find it.
He shoved his beak into the crack beyond the buried bell strip. A low run opened under the stone, black water filling it faster than it could spill through the choked drain. Broken eggshell turned slowly in the current.
Something small kicked beneath it.
Jiang dropped from the vent.
Water took him sideways before his feet found the floor.
His failed flipper folded uselessly against his body. The other struck once, too hard, and spun him toward the wall. He caught red stone with his good foot before the current could drive his cracked beak into it.
This was water. His body knew it, even when half of that body refused to help.
Jiang pushed with both feet and let the current carry his belly low. He used the working flipper to correct rather than fight. The black-green flow rolled him once, scraped his bad shoulder along the floor, and delivered him beside the shell.
