"It's fast," Cavendish said.
"Fuck," Grace swore under her breath. I heard it all the same. Her complaining, somehow, didn't get on the nerves of the others, and I suspected the reason why was because she was putting into words something the others all felt.
We splashed into the next room, with George declaring the rest of the space trap-free before he casually started to undo his pole into its parts for storage. Cavendish pointed to the right, and George nodded.
"You ever do the tunnel swim?" Cavendish asked Phillipe.
"Haven't. I've heard that it's quite awful for a second floor challenge," Phillipe said.
"Bah, it's not that bad. George will lay a rope out. All you need to do is hold your breath and pull yourself over." Cavendish glanced over his team, his attention pausing on William. "Want to go with him?"
"I'll go," William agreed. "Want me to come back once the rope is secured? I can carry some stuff on the return trip."
"Good idea," Cavendish said. He reached into his pack, then pulled out what was obviously a flare, then he tugged out two more, one with a red strip, the other green. "Green on the good end," he said as he handed over two of the three to George.
He immediately cracked the only flare without a coloured ribbon and I blinked back as a pure white light filled the room. It was... a rather large room, without much to it but some phosphorescent fungi way above near the ceiling and a number of stalagmites hanging down and dripping water onto the floor.
The room did narrow considerably towards the end. The access into the next room over was low enough that even I'd have to dip my head to pass.
George didn't head that way. He and William walked to the right, the water rising and rising around them even as William spooled out some rope that Grace tied to one of the pillars coming down from above.
Then the two men dove into the nearly-black waters and all I could see of them were receding shadows cast by the flare that George still held onto. Soon, even that was gone.
I think that George dropped the flare somewhere within what was obviously another tunnel underwater, because a faint glow remained.
Cavendish lit the red flare and jammed it into a crack into the wall, keeping the room lit, though the mood of that lighting was appropriately sombre.
"Oh, fuck," I muttered.
"Tell me about it," Grace agreed with me.
"Alright, let's review real quick. Who can swim?" Cavendish asked. He raised his own hand. Nathan and Grace did the same.
Tyro and I were the only ones who didn't, then I reluctantly raised my arm. "I can, a little," I said. It had been a lifetime, literally, but I figured the basics were still the same, even if I'd lost any of the muscle memory.
Cavendish nodded. "Nathan, mind doing two trips too? We'll split the kids' gear between us."
"I'll take Ginger's," Phillipe said. "If you take all of Tyro's gear."
"Fair," Cavendish said.
Tyro reluctantly removed his pack and handed it to Nathan who let it splash onto the ground. I think Tyro wanted to protest, but, well, we were going to be entirely underwater soon enough. "Is this really faster?" Tyro asked.
"It bypasses one of the most annoying rooms on this floor, and a corridor that's always creatively trapped. Oh, and remember to keep very, very quiet once you're on the other side. There's a small goblin camp that usually gets alerted if you take the corridors into the next room. They won't be if we go underwater," Cavendish said.
"It's a valid shortcut," Phillipe said. "Though it'll only save us a few minutes, at most."
William busting out of the water with a splash made me jump, and it cut off the next bit of conversation as well. "We're ready," he said.
"Good. Nathan, want to go with him?" Cavendish said. "Get our gear situated. Phillipe, go with Nathan on his return trip. Grace can go with Ginger, and I'll take your boy across myself."
There were a few manly nods at that plan, and then Tyro's stuff was passed to William who'd returned without his pack.
I started removing my own stuff. How much of my equipment would survive a dunking?
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Well, actually, most of it? I couldn't think of anything that wouldn't endure a bit of water. I opened my satchel and ran over my vials, making sure they were all corked tight. My knitting supplies would suffer the most, but I could live without those.
"Here," I said as I gave everything to Phillipe. "Don't let anything smack into anything else, if you can avoid it."
"I'll do what I can," he replied genially. Newest update provΔ±ded by ππ π§ππβ¦π§ππ§πβ¦πππ₯
Then, as Phillipe and a freshly returned Nathan waded into the water, I started on my next, more complicated task. Placating Sir Nibbles.
"Well, it's a good thing you're wet already," I said. "Because it's about to get a lot worse."
He eyed me suspiciously, then glanced to where Phillipe and Nathan were diving in. Well, Phillipe didn't so much Dive as he pulled himself down with the rope. Sir Nibbles slowly turned back my way, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
"It's either that, or I leave you here," I said.
He bit me, of course, right next to the chin, and not hard enough to draw blood but plenty hard to let his displeasure be known.
"Is your little friend going to be alright?" Grace asked.
"He'll be fine. He can hold his breath for a bit. I'm the one that'll be doing all the hard work," I said.
"You two are next," Cavendish said. "Come on, this won't be a shortcut if we dilly-dally here all morning."
I glanced at Grace and for a moment we both agreed that Cavendish was a dirtbag without having to say anything aloud about it. Then Grace patted me on the back. "Come on, the rest of the floor's not so bad, and the water'll be covered by planks on the return trip too."
"I can't wait," I said.
We waded into the deeper water, and I clenched my jaw to suppress any grumbling I might have been tempted to partake in. At least the water wasn't cold. It was just... grossly lukewarm.
I touched Sir Nibbles as I reached close to where the rope slid under water. "Hang on," I said.
Then I dunked my head down and back out.
It always helped when in the before to get used to the sensation of being wet long before diving in.
"Okay, let me breathe for a second, then we dive," I said.
"You can keep your eyes open," she replied. "It'll sting like a whore's holes but I'd rather see than not."
I nodded along, took a few deep, deep breaths while ignoring Sir Nibble's protests, then on cue with Grace, I pulled myself down.
She was right, it stung. Still, I blinked my eyes, cheeks puffed way out with the last breath I held. Grace grabbed the rope and pulled herself down and I followed, bubbles leaking out of my nose as I went upside-down.
The first ten or twenty seconds weren't so bad, but then I realized that we weren't even in the tunnel yet, and I started to worry.
Soon, the rope pressed up against the top of the passageway, and I couldn't hold onto it as well as I could. Still, I followed Grace's example and kicked with my feet, adding the occasional one-armed paddle to press myself forwards.
We kept going, and soon crossed the white flare.
Things were going well, despite the burn in my chest. The tunnel's top was close enough that I could sort of pull myself along the water-smoothed stone.
We continued, and I figured we had to be more than halfway. The burn in my lungs was deeply unpleasant, and I held back on the urge to cough.
Then, as the tunnel grew darker and darker and the white light further away behind us, we found the end of the rope.
The shorn-off end, which led nowhere.
I didn't panic. Panicking was stupid.
Instead, I looked up and found three tunnels leading off into the dark.
If I could, I would have sworn. Grace stopped too, and we both looked at each other.
It was a long way back. Could we even make it at this point?
Grace could. She was an adult, in good shape. She had more lung capacity, and was fit.
Me? I wasn't so sure. No. I was very sure I couldn't make it back.
Sir Nibbles started to squirm, and I remembered my little friend.
We were fucked. I could see it in the flash of guilty pity in Grace's eyes.
Then there was red light coming toward us, and we both turned to find George swimming back to us, a new rope in hand and the flare in the other.
When I broke the surface, it took everything I had not to start gasping for air and to keep myself relatively quiet.