I dropped my sword and leapt onto the beams. Clay had dried between the logs. Chunks of it had eroded over the years, leaving easy handholds. I pulled my way up toward the soldier, grabbing his ankle and pulling him down. He tried to kick me. I tugged harder. He lost his grip and thudded to the ground below me.

I fought against the water pouring above me and got ahold of the highest beam, pulling myself up. I scanned the water around the dam.

There was no sign of Dimic.

I shoved wet hair from my face.

“Dimic!” I shouted.

I searched for any sign of bubbles. Any ripples.

The cave was too dark to see much of anything, but I sensed something moving in the water.

My heart leapt.

Dimic’s head peeked above the surface. His arms flailed weakly. He tried to gulp in air but got water instead. His head drifted under.

I dove in.

The water was colder than anything I’d felt before.

My muscles seized up.

I plunged my arms forward into the darkness.

I spotted him several feet below the surface. His legs were kicking but he wasn’t moving upward.

I swooped in and grabbed him around his stomach. I kicked upward until his head broke the surface. He gagged and coughed as I swam back to the dam with one arm around him.

I heaved him up onto the rocks.

He turned on his stomach and coughed up water. “Is that what a bath feels like?” he choked out.

“Real baths are much better,” I said, hauling him to his feet. “And I promise to make sure you have one as soon as we get out of here.”

“Good,” he said, “because I think I know how to bring down the wall.” He slipped the two daggers out of my sandal laces and tossed one to me. “There’s no way we can chop from above with all that water. But if we can wedge enough cracks in the clay in between the slats, the water might do the work for us.”

I stared down at the wall. His plan just might work. “Stay here. I’ll do it,” I said. “If that wall comes crashing down, I don’t want you getting caught in the wave.”

I moved to the edge of the dam and positioned myself so I was hanging off the ledge. From there, it was easy to duck under the pouring water and climb midway down the wall. I rammed my dagger into the clay, rotating it back and forth. Water spurted out. I moved further down the wall and repeated the motion until a steady stream of water slipped through.

The wood groaned.

So did someone behind me.

The noise tore through me.

“Cion!” Dimic called.

Leaving one dagger wedged in the clay, I let go of the wall before I could even think. My feet thudded against the wet earth. I dashed through the water.

By the time I got close enough to see what was going on, Rodric had Cion wedged in one of the channels. He was holding him under the water with his foot against Cion’s chest. When Cion struggled to get free, Rodric kicked the sword from Cion’s hand.