“You prayed for a dolphin,” I pointed out irritably.
Alake said nothing, but gave me a reprimanding glance. “Don’t be blasphemous, Grundle. Can you work this thing?”
“Yes, but I’ll need Devon’s help,” I grumbled, following.
Actually, I could have done it by myself, being stronger than the elf prince, but I wanted to talk to Devon. I told Alake to keep an eye on the floating human, took Devon to deck two, the topmost part of the waterlock. I peered through a window into its sunlit interior, turned the crank on the hatch to make certain it was tightly closed and sealed. Devon started to assist me.
“What if the One didn’t send this man?” I whispered urgently in the elf’s ear. “What if he was sent by the dragon-snakes to spy on us?”
Devon looked considerably shocked. “Do you suppose that’s a possibility?” he asked, doing his best to help and only getting in my way.
I shoved him to one side. “Don’t you?”
“I guess. But why would they? They have us. We can’t escape, even if we wanted to.”
“Why are they doing any of this? All I know is that I wouldn’t be too quick to trust this human, if that’s what he is. And I think you better go back to being Sabia.”
I turned to head down the ladder. Devon came after me, tripping over his skirts.
“Yes, perhaps you’re right. But what about Alake? She’ll have to go along with us. You have to tell her.”
“Not me. She’ll think I’m just making another excuse to get rid of him. You tell her. She’ll listen to you. Go on. I’ll manage this by myself.”
We were on deck one again. Devon went over to Alake and I was able, finally, to get on with the work undisturbed. I couldn’t hear any of their conversation, but I could tell that at first Alake didn’t agree with us, because I saw her shake her head, causing her ear-jangles to ring wildly.
But Devon was patient with her, far more than I could have been, and gradually argued her around. I saw her glance at me, then out at the man, her face troubled and thoughtful. Finally, she nodded unhappily.
Standing in front of the lower window that looks into the waterlock, I took hold of the levers and yanked down on them, hard. A panel located in the hull yawned open. Seawater, foaming and gurgling, poured into the waterlock, carrying with it numerous indignant fish (no dolphins) and the human.
I waited for the water to reach the proper level and slammed the panel shut.
“I’ve got him!” I cried.
We raced back up to deck two, the top of the waterlock. I opened it, peered down. If he’d been a dwarf, he would have been lying on the bottom and we would have had to use the claws to drag him out. But, being human, he’d managed to swim to the top of the water and floated there, only about an arm’s length away.
“Alake and I can handle him, Devon,” I said to him softly. “You go and put your scarf back on.”
Devon left us. Alake came to help me, and between us we managed to drag the human over to the side and hoist him out onto the deck. I shut and sealed the waterlock, opened the bottom panel, let the irate fish swim out, and started the pumps to work. Then I came back to look at our catch.
I must admit that I nearly revised my opinion when we got the man on board and had a close look at him. If the dragon-snakes were going to send a spy, it seemed to me they would have chosen something better than this.
He was truly a pitiable sight, lying on the deck, shivering from head to toe, coughing, convulsing, spitting up fluid, and gasping like a fish out of water. Alake’d obviously never seen anything like it. Fortunately, I had.
“What’s wrong with him?” she asked anxiously.
“His body temperature’s dropped too low and he’s having trouble making the adjustment from breathing water back to breathing air.”
“How can you tell? What do we do for him?” Alake asked.