The Howling Delve - Jaleigh Johnson [108]
Every coherent thought fled Talal's mind. Rationally, he knew the demon couldn't penetrate the layers of rock, not quickly, but all he could hear were the claws shearing away the stone.
"Get in the water!" Morgan shouted to be heard over the awful sound. "Swim to the other side!"
Talal backed away-he'd never liked water-but Laerin dragged him into the river, and soon he was forced to swim.
The current threatened to pull him down. Talal fought it, but it took Morgan's strong arm to haul him out on the other side, else he would have been carried away.
On the opposite bank, the sound of the river muffled the demon's claws enough to allow them to talk.
Morgan, his hair dripping in lanky strands around his exhausted face, said, "Figure it drove us in here?"
Laerin nodded. "I probably cracked a pair of your ribs, pushing you through that gap. He's wearing us down."
"Not much need for that," said Morgan, "once he corners us."
"I don't think he'll do that yet," said Laerin. "He's just stretching his legs. He knows we'll get out of hete." The half-elf pointed to the wishbone in the wall. "That way."
Talal blanched. "We don't know how far the river runs, do we? That thing won't need to kill us if we drown first."
"I'm willing to bet there's another chamber nearby," said Laerin. He looked at Morgan. "What do you think? Can't be much longer than that sewet tunnel in Waterdeep."
"Least the water's cleaner," Morgan said. "I think I got enough bteath in my lungs."
Talal couldn't believe what he was hearing. They were all lunatics.
"Give me back the fire-woman," he mutteted.
"Sorry," Morgan said, "Fire can't go where we're headed." He inverted the totch he catried into the river.
Instantly, Talal went blind. The opptessive darkness of the Delve closed in around him. He felt Laerin's hand on his shoulder, prodding him toward the rushing water. Reluctantly, Talal waded back into the frigid river and let the cutrent snare him.
Treading water, he felt the downward sweep to the wishbone just before his shoulders brushed rock.
For a moment, Talal panicked. He btaced his hands on either side of the passage, tesisting the water's pull with all his strength. He didn't want to drown. He'd end up a blue corpse in the dark, and no one in Faertin would care.
"You can't fight it forever," said Morgan's voice in his ear. "But you can go on your terms."
Talal forced a steadying breath into his lungs. Calmer, he closed his eyes and remembered how it was to feel his way in the datk. He'd done it before. He could do it underwater.
Cautiously, he let his hands slide down the stones, following the curve of the wishbone.
Pretend it's a lass's legs, Dirty Bones, and stop your whining.
The watet closed over his head.
Froglike, Talal swam with the current. He kept one hand above his head to brush the stone ceiling, searching for air. The river propelled him forward at a quick pace. He sensed Morgan and Laerin beside him now and then, though he could see nothing in the dark. The water dragged at his shirt. Talal sttipped it off and left it for some deep-dweller to find.
Ten feet farther Talal's shoulder banged against something rough and unyielding. Talal hoped it wasn't alive, or if it were, that it couldn't swallow him. He kicked sideways and realized the river bent, angling off to his left. He had no choice but to follow the path.
His lungs began to burn. Unconsciously, he let a tiny gasp of air escape. The respite was brief, however, and the burning sensation that followed was excruciating.
Kicking feebly now, Talal allowed the river to carry him. His hand dragged limply across the unbroken rock ceiling. He felt no gap, no magical pocket of air to save him.
The muscles in his abdomen convulsed. His body demanded air, and in its absence was willing to drag in lungfuls of the killing water. Talal clutched his midsection, trying to hold in his last gasp.
His hand slid off the rock. Talal spasmed, sucking in a freezing cold breath. His lungs suddenly felt heavy.