Athgar forced himself to sit upright, looking for Natalia. It took him to a moment to note her absence, and then he spotted her, lying, like him, in the bottom of the skiff, her face covered in blood that still flowed from her nose. He crawled towards her, heedless of the rowers, to sit beside her, cradling her head in his hands, wiping the blood away as best he could.

He could hear the creak of the oars as they rowed, pulling them closer to the Swift and worried that it might already be too late for the pale woman who lay at death’s door.

“Stay with me!” he urged, though whether she heard him or not, he couldn’t say. Finally, the oars were shipped, and the skiff nudged up against the side of the Swift.

The survivors climbed up to the deck, helped by a knotted rope that was lowered from above. Once safely aboard, they turned their attention to Natalia. They had thought to somehow lift her to the deck, but, unsure of her condition, they felt it wiser not to. Instead, they attached ropes and raised the skiff. Athgar remained in the tiny boat as they did so, feeling the swaying motion as the ropes hauled them aboard. Once there, it was a relatively simple matter to get her below, to bed.

Natalia's eyes finally fluttered open.

"She's awake," came Athgar's voice.

A face loomed over her, and she felt fingers force her eyes open farther. "She looks much better," came Brother Cyric's voice.

She felt the warmth of a hand on hers, a caressing touch. She glanced over to see the Therengian, a look of concern on his face.

"You had us worried," Athgar said. "We were afraid you'd overdone it."

"That was a remarkable feat," said Cyric. "I would never have thought it possible."

Natalia squeezed the hand. "I'm so happy you're safe, Athgar," she said, "I was terrified for you."

"It appears I was the one that should have been worried. You scared me to death, Natalia. I told you to have more control over your magic."

"Thank the Saints she didn't," observed Cyric, "or you might not be here to scold her."

The Temple Knight felt her forehead.

"How is she?" asked Athgar.

"She'll make a full recovery," he pronounced, "but she'll need a day or two of rest." He sat back. "Remarkable, the both of you. I've never seen such a display of bravery. You truly are sent by the Saints."

Athgar snorted, "Don't you mean the Gods?"

Cyric grinned. "Whichever way you like," he said, "I will not argue the specifics. Where did you learn to swim? I didn't take you as someone who liked the water."

"We swam in the river back home all the time, though I must admit that's my first time in the sea."

"And how did you like it?" asked Cyric.