He looked up and caught a third drop in his left eye.

“Stupid lake.”

As he walked, he wondered if the entire lake was nothing but water droplets that had collected over the years. Had this all begun as a few puddles? How long would it take for a few scattered drops to become a lake this size? Trying to comprehend time on that scale made his head hurt.

At the whirlpool, Ryslind stopped. The water wasn’t as violent as before. Jig wondered if the ice went deep enough to blunt the whirlpool’s power. He still had no desire to leap into that funnel of death. The water splashed them all as it passed Ryslind’s path of ice, and Jig shivered. Whether because of the ice, or because the water itself was colder here, the air carried a bitter chill. Jig longed for something more than his old loincloth.

“There is something below,” Ryslind said, his voice tight. “I sense a buildup of power beneath us, and none of the creatures have come near this place.”

Of course not, Jig thought. Lizard-fish might be stupid, but no monster was that stupid. Except, perhaps, for the occasional goblin. And adventurers, naturally.

“Hold your breath. As you pass, I will cast a charm to strengthen your lungs, but you must fight the urge to breathe. Water is a powerful element, and it will throw all its power against you. If you fail, you will die.”

With that pronouncement, he rested his fingertips on Darnak’s shoulder. The dwarf waited for the wizard to finish. Shooting a dark look toward the roof of the cavern, he shouted, “Earthmaker watch over me.” In a slightly lower tone, he added, “But if you had told me what I’d have to endure to keep these two safe, I’d have told you to send a bloody merman in my place.”

He checked to be certain his club was lashed to his belt, tightened the straps of his pack, and leaped into the water. Jig tried to follow his progress. Several times, he saw the dwarf bob past, hair flattened to his head, arms waving madly. Once a pair of booted feet rushed by. Then the water dragged him down, and Jig saw nothing.

Barius went next, followed by a reluctant Riana. When Jig’s turn arrived, he couldn’t help looking back at the shore. He wished now that he had seized the chance to escape last night. Maybe he could have snuck past the hobgoblins. If he made it back to the lair, he could have figured something out to explain Porak’s death. There had to be a way. Why hadn’t he run when he had the chance?

His heart was racing, and Jig realized he was terrified. His heart was pounding, and he was on the verge of soiling his loincloth. When Ryslind’s fingers brushed his forehead, he yelped in fright.