Prof turned toward the city and fell silent. We passed something nearby in the water, a large, towering length of steel. I frowned. What was that, and why had it been built into the middle of the river like this? There was another in the distance.
The tops of a suspension bridge’s towers, I realized, spotting wires trailing down into the water. The entire bridge had been sunk.
Or … the water had risen.
“Sparks,” I whispered. “We’re never going to get off the open water, are we? She’s sunk the city.”
"Yes,” Prof said.
I was stunned. I’d heard that Regalia had raised the water level around Manhattan, but this was far beyond what I’d taken that to mean. That bridge had probably once loomed a hundred feet or more above the river; now it was beneath the surface, only its support towers visible.
I turned and looked at the water we’d crossed. Now I could see a subtle slope to the water. The water bulged here, and we had to move up at an incline to approach Babilar, as if we were climbing a hill of water. How bizarre. As we drew closer to the city itself, I saw that the entire city was indeed sunken. Skyscrapers rose like stone sentries from the waters, the streets having become waterways.
