"Mother?" she called out as she walked up the stairs, tapping water off her soles on each step to avoid tramping it into the dry upper story.
Amariss looked up with a smile. "Oh, Pratty! I would have had snacks ready if I'd known you were coming over today."
"But the kitchen's downstairs, Mother," Pratty said, perching herself on the edge of her old bed. "Isn't it dangerous to use it now?"
"Don't worry about me, honey. I'm careful when I'm cooking," Amariss said, patting Pratty on the head.
"But you shouldn't need to be careful!" Pratty said, grabbing her mother's hand. "Listen, Mother, I've gotten a house on the upper layer, and there's room in it for you. Sugar and I will mostly be working at the Silver Guild or the Central Tower, so it'll still feel like you're living on your own, and it's right next door to Master Rondeau so you'll have a neighbor I know you like. Won't you come?"
Amariss' smile didn't fade at all as she gently pulled away from Pratty. "You know I'm not going to do that, Pratty."
"But look, Mother!" Pratty pushed herself to her feet and walked over to the window, gesturing at the town around them. All of the walkways and even the central stair were underwater now, leaving just houses poking up out of the sea. "Everyone's left this layer already, and it's only just started going under. You know it's just going to get worse!"
"That's the price you pay for living in Wystern, Pratty. Your father and I knew that when we moved into this house, back when there was still a whole other layer below it, but we thought we'd be moving out together when the water reached it." Amariss joined Pratty at the window and smiled down at the drowning city. "I'm not leaving this home we made with each other as long as an inch of it is livable."
"But Mama," Pratty cried, suddenly just a frightened young girl again instead of a mighty Craftlord. "What if you slip and fall and crack open your head? Or what if you get electrocuted? You might just lie there until the next time I visit without anybody finding you!"
"Oh, Pratty," Amariss sighed, and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "I'll be safe. I'll be careful. I barely even use the first floor now, and when I need to I'll come get you to help me carry the oven up here so I won't even need to cook down there. And when I need to I'll leave, but it's not time for that yet."
"But Mother..." Pratty started, her voice a whine, but she realized that nothing she could say would change Amariss' mind now and trailed off.
"You've grown into a wonderful, caring, person, Pratty. It's why you're going to be just as great a Craftlord as your father, and I'm so proud," Amariss said, hugging her. "But you're also my daughter, and I'm not old enough yet that I need you to take care of me. So trust your mother's judgment, okay?"
"...Okay, Mother," Pratty conceded, and tried not to worry about how the water level had crept inevitably upward with every word she'd spoken.
