of the river and of gravity pulling down on his saturated body. He scraped against a sharp surface—the hard edge of the riverbank—first against his head and then down his spine, and then he was dropped onto his back on the cold ground.

He stared up blankly at the pale sky. Minta’s face appeared in front of him, his cheeks puffed with exhaustion.

“Not breathing, eh?” Minta asked.

He lifted both hands, gripped them together, and slammed them against Nathaniel’s stomach. A torrent of water erupted from Nathaniel’s mouth. He curled up onto his side, took in a desperate breath, and coughed up another small deluge.

“There you go,” he heard Minta say as he patted Nathaniel roughly on the back. “No one warned you about the river?”

...

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