A moment later, when Prim had shown no sign of heeding him, he called, “Her we need! Stop her!”

Prim had dropped to her knees at the edge of the quay, hoping to see the floating end of the rope. But it was entirely submerged. Hearing a heavy footfall nearby, she looked up to see the great grim Beedle coming for her, reaching out with his right hand.

She dove in headfirst. The hem of her long skirt, trailing in her wake, caught on something—or was grabbed by the Beedle’s claw. She tried to kick and wriggle free, and felt the garment tearing at her waist. In a moment it came away and she plunged deeper into the water, both arms flailing in a blind search for the rope. Something gripped one of her ankles, and in the same instant she felt, as much as heard, another body plunging into the water. It was the big Beedle, gripping her by the leg, piling in on top of her.

Something grazed the back of her right hand. The water here was too murky to see much but she thought she glimpsed the free rope end undulating just out of her reach. She tried to kick back against the Beedle but his grip was strong. And his arms and armor were heavy, so he was sinking where Prim, left to her own devices, would have floated. The world pivoted around her as her buoyancy raised her head and body while the weight of the Beedle dragged her leg down. Again she tried to kick loose but his grip only tightened, and now his free arm snaked around her other leg and gripped it as if Prim’s body were a ladder he could ascend into the air. He was now in a panic as he understood he was going to drown.

Absolute was her certainty that she had been in a situation like this before, though she could not remember it. In her childhood she had never been near a body of water as cold and as deep as this. Like the rope end she had felt but been unable to grasp, the memory eluded her the more she reached for it. It was one of those memories Elshield had tried and failed to extract from her mind during the ride down the mountain.

Still pointlessly trying to climb her body, the Beedle wrapped an arm around her waist. She reached down to push him away and found his face with the palm of her hand, but had nothing like the strength needed. Rough stone skidded along her shoulder: the wall of the quay, along which they were slowly descending. She groped at that with her free hand but could not find purchase.

She knew that the Beedle would not release her until death took him. Would she still be alive? Which of them would drown soonest? She desperately wished that he would. That now, while she still had the strength to swim to the surface, he would just die.