-Ira-

Cold. No air. It had her by the leg.

She’d managed to hold her breath when she went down. Her lungs pressed at her chest.

Which way was up? It was hard to tell in the dim of the cavern.

The monster harried her with its claws, so she drew her sword. She could taste blood in the water. Everything was blurry. Her chest burned.

Air. She hadn’t taken a deep enough breath.

Despite its bright coloring, she was having trouble tracking the Boss. It came at her from behind. A long, shallow cut opened on her back.

Ira pivoted, slamming the monster with her blade. It thrumped backwards, silvery blood spinning out in a threadlike pattern. She tried to follow up. The monster was too quick in the water—or she was too slow—out of her element.

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She activated Sword Speed.

Air.

Which way was up?

The mixed blood stung in her eyes. Currents tugged at her hair. She couldn’t see the Boss.

It sliced at her again, claws gleaming. She sliced it back, opening a massive wound.

Which way was up?

AIR.

She followed the sideways tug in her filled lungs. Gasped as she breached the surface.

The monster grabbed at her legs, and she kicked at it, hard.

Felt a crunch.

There were no more attacks. Ira dragged herself up onto a stepping-stone. Her legs and arms stung from countless cuts. Her calf throbbed especially.

She coughed up blood-tinted cave water.

Bright lights flashed in the air. Squinting, Ira saw that it was Celio fighting three airborne faeries. He’d dropped his Dodo, leaving it to crawl up onto a steppingstone. Crouch there uselessly, wailing like a clarinet on the edge of death.

There was music pulsing in the air, sung by insect voices. Tense, discordant harmonies that set her on edge.

Ira stood and shook herself like a wet dog.

“Should have brought someone with a healing skill.” She mumbled to herself.

Then she jumped back into the fight.