Chapter 5. Captured

                                    

                                          
SHANNA WAS A FIGHTER. ALWAYS had been. That was why, at the moment just before Aaron's grip slipped from hers, when she knew his strength was almost gone, her panic disappeared. But not suddenly and not without effort. Shanna took hold of it. Wrestled it to the ground. Beat at it every time it tried to rise until, finally, it stayed down. Even still, she kicked it for good measure. Satisfied, she took a deep breath and held it. She knew the waters were going to take her. It was as inevitable as Aaron's grip giving way. Then it did, and just like that, as the water seized her, the calm she'd so forcefully mustered snapped and terror took hold.
The water dragged her down, enveloping her in a liquid shell of frothing, salty darkness that burned her eyes and pierced her very core with its icy chill. Thoughts and action, both without meaning now, fell away as her mind and body were lost to the streaming jet that twisted and turned her at will while hurtling her deeper and deeper into the abyss. She wanted to scream. She almost did. But the instinctual part of her mind warned against expending any of the precious air she'd breathed in. Still, every second that passed brought more panic, for she knew that every inch she fell diminished the chances she'd ever see the light of day again.
Something brushed against her. Without thinking, Shanna grabbed hold of it, wrapping it tightly with both arms. Its presence helped right her and, feeling the softness there, she buried her face in it, for already her lungs ached. If there were an end to it now, if she suddenly somehow was released from the flow and given even a pocket of air to drink from, then everything would be all right. But no such thing happened. Though she no longer tumbled, the force of the water still dragged her down so that, with every passing moment, her lungs cried out all the more. Shanna answered the only way she knew how. She clenched her fists, pushing the desire to draw breath deep down, burying it behind her will. She would not die. Not here. Not alone in the dark without ever having done any of the things she'd dreamed of doing. Her lungs, oblivious and wanting only air, elevated their pleading to angry demands. Shanna railed at them. She would not draw breath...would not... Willpower was not enough. Her lungs issued one final demand—this one undeniable—and Shanna inhaled.
She gagged on froth—not water—the briny foam sucked into her mouth and throat. A moment's disbelief came and went and then she was falling—really falling this time—amidst a watery spray that all but blinded her. Her stomach lurched into her throat as she and the life-preserver she still clung to plummeted downward. Then the water sucked her in once more. She had no air, no warning. She sank, but it was only from the momentum of the fall this time. After a moment, she slowed, then she stopped altogether. Shanna let go of her life-preserver and, with frantic kicks and strokes, swam for the surface she hoped was not far. Darkness concealed her progress, but she made herself believe she was close. One more stroke, one more kick. It was enough. With a gasp, she broke the surface.
She heaved air into her lungs with great, heaving breaths, choking and coughing, but drawing in every bit of life-giving air she could. She did nothing else right away, reveling in the simple task of breathing as she tried not to think about how close she'd come to dying. She was alive, she told herself. Still alive, still here in the world of the living and still fighting, though she'd no idea where she was. It was too dark to see anything. She knew only that she'd fallen a great way. Deeper than she or anyone she knew had ever been. Before this, she'd never gone further than the Underkeep's third sub-level. That one time had been prompted by a dare. Ordinarily, no one went past sub-level two. Past that, it was too dark and too deep and everyone knew only dwarves and wicked things dwelt that far beneath the earth. Truthfully, she'd really no idea what exactly dwelt this far down, though her imagination conjured images of goblins, gorgons, and all sorts of other things she really shouldn't be thinking about right now. Things that could see in the dark just fine. Things that climbed walls and crept hunched over and slipped through the water as easily as an eel and—