Daniel couldn’t get the words out. He hadn’t the breath. It was all he could do to keep his nose above the water and avoid getting whacked by the waterwheel. His fingers scrabbled for any purchase. Free of the heavy cloak he might be, but his boots were full of water, dragging him under time and again. The backwash from the wheel doused his face continually.

“Take hold of the wheel!” Cadogan shouted. “Let it hoist you up. I’ll grab you!”

The man was brilliant. Daniel would have to tell him so once he was on dry land.

Twice, Daniel’s fingers closed over the edge of one of the paddles, only to have the wet wood jerked from his hand. The third time, he rode the massive wheel up halfway before losing his grip and plunging into the water below once more, banging off the stone wall, the wheel, and who knew what else on the way down.

Gasping, his strength gone, he tried once more.

You are not going to die this way. You are not going to be killed in such a ridiculous manner without even knowing who tried to murder you.

He gripped the edge of the wood, this time his sodden boot toe finding a hold on a lower paddle.

Don’t let me fall, God. If You are listening at all …

He rose, clinging desperately, feeling his weight shift as the wheel carried him higher. Cadogan leaned out over the wheel much too far for his own safety, stretching to reach Daniel before he fell again. A fist closed around Daniel’s collar at the same moment his fingers slipped off the wheel, and for an eternity he hung suspended by his shirt. He kicked against the wheel, and the force of the turn raised him a bit more, where Cadogan, with a surprising show of strength and little regard for his own well-being, let go of the railing to grab Daniel with two hands, hauling him up and dragging him across the walkway.

Trembling—from cold or weakness or his near death, possibly all three—began in Daniel’s core and radiated outward to his limbs. He shivered and shuddered, dragging in great whooping breaths and coughing out water.

Cadogan sprawled beside him, still holding on to his collar, as if afraid he would slip over the edge again.

Daniel was grateful, for he had no control over his body.

“How did you know?” he rasped out when he could speak.

The jarvey let go of Daniel and pushed himself upright. He’d lost his cap somewhere, and his hair stuck out in odd directions.