The fish dipped fully below the water and I held my breath as I strained to see any hint of where the fish went. The channel wasn’t deep so I should see it surface there, but when would it appear? Would it get caught in the net?

A ripple heading towards the net. I clung to the branch even as everything ached. No matter what happened to the net it wouldn’t be smart to land face first in front of a fish. The ripple reached the net…passed it.

And started thrashing. The net had caught on a fin and the fish was doing everything it could to keep swimming down the channel. It dragged the net a handful of feet down the secret waterway before the net caught against the branches. My ties held.

My gaze cut to further down the channel but the fish further ahead paid the caught one no mind. They swam as fast as they could down the channel like they were possessed. The fish in the wider waterway were another story. I could tell that some were being attracted by the movement and noise—which would have been fine if the net was fully set, but I still needed to get the bottom hooked so it could hold against the horde’s numbers. As it was, they’d be able to shove the net to the side if they had the mind for it or drag it down through sheer weight and numbers. The latter could still happen after I got the bottom hooked but the net would be able to withstand their onslaught longer with more anchoring points.

The caught fish thrashed one more time and managed to throw the net off its fin. It swam down the channel as if nothing had happened. I held my breath as the one, two, three fish that had been attracted by its outburst also slipped past the net without getting stuck. The defenders on the broken pathway would have to deal with them, but if I could get the net in place without getting injured it’d be better in the long run.

Long moments passed as I waited to see if any more fish would dart from the main waterway to the channel but they were focused on bursting through the tribe’s choke points. Slowly, trying to ignore the way my quick heartbeat was insisting I go, go, go, I climbed down the tree and onto its exposed roots. There was ground here that the channel cut into, but it was so sopping wet that I didn’t trust it to hold my body weight. I didn’t relish the idea of getting swallowed whole by the mud for eternity, especially when no one would have a clear idea of where to look for me.

So I crawled from root to root, keeping a careful eye and ear trained on the water, until I reached net. Then I started the arduous process of slowly dragging it back into place while trying not to draw the horde’s attention. I clung to the far side of a root more than once as I prayed for a passing fish not to notice me.

My muscles ached and burned from the strain I had put them through over the past day but I didn’t stop. I had a job to do. Perhaps I wouldn’t be able to climb up the tree after all this, if my arms had their way, but the net would be in place.

There was something odd every time I strayed close to the edges of the channel. The faintest scent of something metallic and sharp like it was trying to cut through my nose. I didn’t smell it anywhere else as I got the net placed and despite the smell being so faint I was half sure I had imagined it, it stood out me.

Night had fully fallen by the time I managed to fix the first fish’s mistake. The defenders would be fighting in even less ideal conditions now and I wasn’t looking forward to swimming in the dark water. I might still be able to see as well as in daylight but now everything was in shades of gray and black. Some flashes of silver from the snow and moonlight. There’d be no pop of color to warn me of an inbound fish and they’d move faster than me in the water. And that was considering I even could see for any reliable distance—the water was so clouded with mud and other bits that I was sure I’d be placing the hooks more by feel than sight.

For the briefest of moments, I was envious of Ulo’s ability to breathe underwater. She at least wouldn’t have that concern if she had my job. But then I remembered everything there was to dislike about Ulo and the number of times my blessing had saved me and I decided she could have her highly situational blessing. My blessing was in play all the time at least.

I stripped out of my outer clothes and supply belt, anything that could slow me down or get damaged in the water. My pack and spear were still up on the high paths, so I didn’t have to worry hiding them, but everything else I had been wearing went into a protected nook tucked between two roots. Then I grabbed my first net hook, plotted where I thought the roots went under the water, checked one last time for incoming danger, and slipped into the water as careful as I could to create as little ripples as possible. It wouldn’t surprise me if the horde had a way to sense interlopers in their domain.

I followed the roots of the tree down by feel. As I feared the clouded water made sight more of a liability than a benefit, and in an odd way it felt similar to following the paths in the wind spirits’ home. I strained to feel every shift in the water even as my concentration was settled on my hands and not losing track of the root I was following.

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The need to breathe was pressing against my lungs by the time the net went taunt enough for me to place the hook. I caught it on a particularly thick root before I turned and followed my root back up to the surface.

One quietly gasping breath later and I was back under the surface with another hook hand. There were four total that needed to be set with a net of this size and now time was of the essence. At any moment another fish could try to make a break for it, but now they’d run into me or the net before they could make it to the secret waterway. I needed to get the hooks placed, in good spots, if I wanted it to hold against the horde.

The second hook was placed without issue but on the third I ran into an issue. There weren’t any strong enough roots in the area it needed to be placed to be effective. Every place I found would snap long before the first two hooks I placed felt more than a hint of strain. I went down a second time, trying to place that hook, but found nothing suitable.

So, instead, I switched to the final hook and did my best to find the best spot for it. It didn’t take me long to find the perfect spot for the hook. It was a spot where several roots grew around each other, but they’d help hold the hook in place with how they were situated. I got it hooked and then swam back up.

I was about to make a third pass with the third hook when I noticed movement coming closer in the water. A glint in the moonlight that disappeared a moment later, but I knew what it was. Another fish was making for the channel and I had no way to see it in the murky water unless it surfaced again. No weapons but a makeshift one using the large hook in my hands. No way to get to shore before it reached me without making enough noise and flailing movement to alert more attackers to my presence.

And there was no guarantee that it had noticed me yet. There was still a chance that whatever had drawn the others to the channel had taken a hold of this fish’s attention too.

So I let myself drift back until my back was pressed up against a thick root, the net stretched and protecting my left flank. Then I closed my eyes and focused on the waters around me. Felt its eddies and pulls like it was the spirits’ wind and I had to pay attention to every breath of it to stay in a cone of stillness. Hoping for another flash was a fool’s errand, but with this I’d have some warning of the fish drawing near. Water wasn’t the same as wind, but even the fish couldn’t move through it without causing some slight disturbance.

Every breath felt like torture. Like the slight sound would give me away no matter how quietly I tried to breathe, like each one lasted for an hour, and my anticipation built. And built.

Only to shatter as the net started shift and shake as the fish tried to force its way past it. It was too low in the water for me to see it but when I opened my eyes I could see the water thrashed right where the channel met the bigger waterway. It had been drawn in by the secret passageway and hadn’t noticed me in the slightest.

Others would notice its movement though, like they had with the first fish. The third hook still wasn’t set, so I decided to take the opportunity while I had it. I dove down with the third hook, following a new root than what I had before, and used the fish’s thrashing to cover my own quicker movements as I dared to swim faster than I had before.

Down and down again while part of me expected the fish to change targets for its single minded assault while another wondered how long it would take for its friends to show up. Down while my lungs tried to convince me I could be like Ulo, just for a little bit, and the rest of my body grew heavier with fatigue.

Until, finally, I came across a spot that could work. The root wasn’t as thick as it could be, but it was situated the right way and the net was pulled tight. It would have to do. I got the hook set and pulled myself back up the root.

Hand over hand into a face full of scales. They scraped against my forehead and cheek and I recoiled at the unexpected sensation and pain. Then I went to pull myself up even faster, escape the water, only to feel something slice across my shoulder. I snapped out a hand for where the attack had come from and grabbed ahold of a fin. I was going to be riddled with injuries and unable to escape if I let the fish have full mobility. So I held on for all I was worth and let go of my root to wrap myself around the fish.

We sank as it flailed as it tried to break my hold and I tried to claw out its eyes as I clung on. We tossed and turned in the water and I kept waiting for another fish to pummel me in the back but no secondary attack came. My back hit the bottom of the waterway and the fish switched its attention to trying to smother me in the mud and muck. I struggled. I kicked and punched and kept trying to get at its weak spots but my body didn’t listen as well as it should. It was exhausted and wanted to breathe, needed it, in fact, based on the way my bless mark was starting to prickle and burn.

I sucked in water and dirt and no air. My vision was darkening in a way that had nothing to do with the murky water. I tried to fight but every movement got weaker until all I could do was lay limp in the water while my bless mark burned like miniature sun on my leg. The goddess’s gaze wrapped around me like an unwelcome, scratchy blanket but it never grew strong enough to smother me like the fish tried to do.

At some point the fish had left but I couldn’t celebrate. It likely thought it had left a dead body in the water, but there were plenty of other fish in the river who might have different ideas.

Not that I could stop them. However much I hated it, once again I was in a position where I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe when it was all my body wanted to do. My best chance at safety and not becoming a practice dummy for the horde’s attacks and gaining more wounds, was to hang as limp as a corpse and hope the waterway’s current took me some place that wasn’t full of fish.

At least the net was in place.