For a moment, Vambran thought he might resist the immense pressure of that terrifying tug. He held fast to the rope, thankful that it was biting into his gloves and not his bare flesh. His fingers ached from the effort, but he did not slip even an inch. Every joint in his body began to burn like fire, though, and he knew that he could not sustain his resistance. Still, terror prevented him from releasing the rope, and he kicked and thrashed as best he could, despite the growing pain.

There was a sudden and piercing snap of wood, and Vambran was falling, being rapidly dragged down to the water. He flailed helplessly, his arms windmilling about, panic driving him to fight against the descent. When he hit the water on his back and to one side, he felt the wind knocked out of him.

Gasping for air, the lieutenant recalled the dreadful vision of the sailor dashed mercilessly against the waves until his body was battered and broken. Expecting to be pounded to a bloody pulp himself, he began to struggle wildly to pull free. He fought against the terrible grip of the tentacle holding his legs fast, yanking uselessly against its unyielding hold, desperate to escape the other man's horrible fate.

The mauling did not come.

Instead Vambran found himself being dragged under, down and down into the deepening gloom. Further panic made him try to swim back for the surface, but it was a futile effort. The kraken hauled him beneath the ship, coiling more lengths of its tentacle around his body as it drew him toward itself. The salty water stung his eyes, but Vambran could make out the beast's form for the first time in the filtered light.

It was as large as Lady's Favor.

The sight of the kraken made Vambran's heart thud in his chest, and he could feel his breath already beginning to fight for release as the beast pulled him closer. He found himself staring at an immense, baleful eye, cold and black. It was larger across than he was tall, and it seemed to be boring right through the man, giving him a chill that went beyond the water engulfing him. He could sense hatred in that eye, feel the loathing for him in its murky depths.

In a flash of equal parts inspiration and desperation, the lieutenant reached for his sword, which thankfully still hung at his hip, flapping half out of its scabbard. Drawing the blade free, Vambran was about to plunge it deep into the huge eye regarding him. Perhaps sensing the danger, the eye was suddenly gone as the creature whisked Vambran away, dragging him rapidly through the water. His lungs were burning by then, and he was fast losing the ability to resist the urge to breathe.

That's when the lieutenant saw the gaping beak, nestled among the bases of the tentacles, as large as he was tall and opening wide.

As he neared the hard, toothless maw, dread filled Vambran. In a frantic attempt to thwart the creature, he swung his sword as hard as he could with both hands. The blade was awkward in his grasp, twisting and turning as he tried to slam it against the flesh of the huge beast, but horror lent him strength, and he managed a couple of solid strikes against the kraken.

Blackness was beginning to rim Vambran's vision by then, but he still had enough presence of mind to switch tactics as the tentacle attempted to stuff him inside the snapping beak. Turning the sword in his hands, he shoved it forward, thrusting rather than slicing, and he felt the tip connect with tender tissue all around the gargantuan mouth. Whatever he hit must have been sensitive, for the kraken shivered violently and jerked him away from itself.

But Vambran did not stop. With his strength waning and consciousness fading, he continued to jam the blade down, stabbing repeatedly into the tentacle encircling him. After three such strikes, the coil loosened. Still he struck, again and again, each blow more feeble than the last.

The lieutenant felt a sudden current of water drive him away, and he found himself tumbling through inky blackness. The kraken had released him, but his victory seemed hollow. He tumbled in the water with no idea which way was up, and his lungs were ready to explode. He had no doubt that his heavy breastplate was pulling him deeper into the sea, where he would settle to the bottom until the fish consumed him.

Consciousness began to recede as his body twitched and spasmed.

The last thing he felt was numbness, and there was nothing.

It was several moments before Vambran realized he was breathing again. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into another set of orbs, a beautiful turquoise color with gold flecks. They were inches from his own, and they seemed to study him intently, expressing concern and hope all at once. They were framed by a narrow feminine face of pale blue skin, the mouth of which was currently locked against his own in a soft kiss.

Startled at that revelation, Vambran jerked away from the embrace of the creature holding him. That act of separation disrupted a smooth gliding motion he had not been aware of before, and Vambran tumbled away from the other in the ensuing turbulence and began to sink again through the dim water.

The naked creature regarded him with a combination of consternation and amusement for a moment; then she turned gracefully so she was angled toward him. She began pulling herself down with powerful strokes of her webbed hands and feet, swimming easily after his receding form, closing the distance between them quickly. She was nearly human in appearance, though she was pale blue from head to toe with short, darker blue hair, and she sported gills along each side of her torso, at both collarbone and ribs. Her only adornments were necklaces and bracelets of sea shells and a belt made from the skin of some creature, possibly an eel. A knife made of what Vambran surmised must be coral was tucked into that belt at one hip.

A sea elf, he realized, and for a moment, Vambran was dazzled.

When he tried to sigh, though, the mouthful of water he got for his troubles reminded him that he was drowning, and he began to thrash and kick desperately. He struggled to swim up, to follow the trail of bubbles he was making, but his breastplate was too heavy, pulling him down into the depths.

Hands found his shoulders, and at first, Vambran grabbed at them and tried to pull himself upward, fighting against the tug of the deep. But the hands were strong and forceful, jerking Vambran around so that he was once more face to face with the beautiful sea elf, who gave him a stern look before locking him in another kiss.

It was only then that the lieutenant realized she was helping him to breathe.

The sea elf began to swim then, pulling Vambran along with her and occasionally blowing air into his lungs, keeping him alive. Together, they moved through the water like that, gliding down into the depths. He wondered where she was taking him, but he did not care, so long as he could remain close to her.

No! Vambran realized. The ship! Uncle Kovrim!

The lieutenant jerked himself free of the sea elf's embrace. She drew up in the water, reaching for him again. He began to sink, but he ignored it for a moment, holding up his hands to stave off her attempt to catch him. He smiled and gently shook his head, hoping that the expression conveyed both his appreciation and his denial.

The sea elf cocked her head to one side quizzically, but before she could try to approach him again, Vambran reached into a pouch at his belt and produced a small vial. He drew the vial out, thrusting the end toward his mouth. He pulled the stopper free just as he rammed the end against his lips, closing down tight to seal the opening from the water outside.

In one quick gulp, Vambran sucked the contents of the potion into his mouth and swallowed it, trying to ignore the strange mixed flavor of honey and olive oil. Almost immediately, he felt a shift as the magic of the potion took effect. The weight of his breastplate shifted, began to drag in the opposite direction. He was rising to the surface.