Delphine nodded, her lips as blue as if she were in the river with him. The trembling beam shone down.
“Excellent–” he shouted, struggling to open the knife while holding onto the boat with one hand as the current tried to claw him away. “Can you tilt it at an angle? That’s it, well done, as close as you can get. Good girl.”
Without warning he ducked beneath the surface. He could feel his scalp contracting with the cold, tiny bubbles streaming close to his skin and the lick of weed. He tried to find a footing on the stones beneath him but his feet went skating sideways as the Dragonfly veered, then seemed to change her mind and spun back the way she had come.
Clinging to his lifeline, Colin groped for the propeller shaft and clutching his knife, fingered his way down until he found the
