And he felt his fingers break through into cold standing water and chill air. The water ran down his arm, easing his way, loosening the suctioning clutch of the monster. It was too late. He wasn't going to make it. He was already starting to black out for lack of air. He began to slip under again. Then he felt a tug on his other arm. Theo, he remembered, his thoughts slow and dull.

I have to help Theo.

He gathered his last strength and punched upward again, breaking through the surface. It would've been nice if some comrade had clasped that free arm and dragged them out, but there seem to be a distinct lack of comrades at the moment.

Zander and Theo were on their own. Zander pretended to talk to Theo in his mind.

Remember the time…

He clawed and kicked.

We took Maisie for a stroll…

Claw. Kick.

And the wind took her shawl.

Reach!

We ran after it, right into the deepest puddle…

And then Zander realized that nothing pressed over his face! He spat and gagged, then took a lungful of sweet, cool rainy air.

Theo.

Zander dragged himself out onto firmer soil with one hand, his other hung deep behind him, burdened by the weight of Theo. Once he could brace his knees on solid ground, he pulled and pulled. Don't let it tear. And to Theo, don't let go!

Then he had him. Theo's head emerged from the slick mud like a mushroom growing in the privy muck. Zander swiped his free hand over Theo's face, scraping away the thickest mud and was rewarded when Theo spat out a wad of sludge and gasped hoarsely for air.

There was some noise and fury going on about them, but it was all Zander could manage to pull Theo free of the hungry mud demon's maw.

The rising relief came out in a choking laugh. He always became unsteady when he got away with something, or beat the odds, or in this case, cheated death.

A huge crack of sound broke the sky. Theo, now crawling up to his hands and knees, looked around them in dismay. "Cannonade!"

Zander snapped out of his relieved stupor and saw that it was true. They were under bombardment. The nine heavy cannons lined up along the base of the castle palisades were firing as often and as quickly as they were able. The enemy meant to pummel the British army away from their walls.

He scrambled awkwardly to his feet and reached to drag Theo up as well. He pointed to the distant British flag still visible in the growing dusk. "Run!"