Cyrene watched silently, treading water about ten feet offshore, as I alternately coaxed, pulled, and ultimately threatened Maata into the water. I thought she was going to come unglued when I had to force her head under the water so we could dive. She started struggling with me and probably would have done a good job of drowning me if Cyrene hadn’t come up from behind and grabbed her neck, putting enough pressure on Maata’s carotid artery to effectively knock her out. I slapped my hand over Maata’s mouth and grabbed the back of her shirt, while Cyrene did the same to her nose. We took deep breaths and dived down into the murky darkness of the lake, hauling Maata with us.

She started coming to just before we surfaced, damned near climbing my body in order to escape the water. By the time I hauled myself and her out onto a rocky outcropping, I was exhausted and bruised from the struggle with her.

“Sorry,” Maata gasped, crawling backwards to get her legs out of the water. “I tried; I really tried.”

“Not your fault,” I said, catching my breath. “I’m just glad I took Cyrene with me to a martial arts class a couple of decades ago.”

“I was top in the class at the sleeper hold,” she said proudly, flipping on a small flashlight, the light from it flickering around our little cave.

And it was a little cave, with a low ceiling that was supported by wooden struts that looked like they’d seen better days. A little twinge of claustrophobia gripped me as I got to my feet and did my best to wring out my clothes. The air was cold enough to make me shiver, but I put my discomfort out of my mind as I looked around.

“There’s the stream,” Cyrene said, flashing the light on a small stream that had cut into the earth to empty out into the lake. A narrow ledge ran alongside it, providing a passageway that dissolved into blackness.

Maata lifted her head and smelled the air. It was musty and smelled of damp earth. “Dragons have been here.”

“Recently?” I asked, looking for footprints in the damp earth next to the stream. There were none.

“No. But I feel it. They are nearby.”

Cyrene pointed the light up the passageway. It didn’t penetrate the darkness very far. “Er . . . you go first,” she said, shoving the flashlight into my hands.

“Chicken,” I murmured, scooting past her to take the lead.

“You’re the one with all the deadly skills,” she pointed out, taking up the tail as Maata marched behind me.