From somewhere deep inside himself he drew out the last reserves, and
pulled until the darkness in his head exploded in sheets of bright
colours, shooting stars and Catherine wheels that dazzled him. But he
kept on pulling.
He felt his legs coming out of it, the grip of the waters weakening, and
he pulled once more with strength that he had never realized he
possessed.
Then suddenly he was free and shooting towards the surface, but it was
too late. The darkness filled his head and in his ears was a sound like
the roaring of the waterfall in the abyss. He was drowning. He was all
used up. He had no knowledge of where he was, how much further he had to
go to the surface, but he knew only that he was not going to make it. He
was finished.
When he came out through the surface, he did not know that he had done
so, and he did not have enough strength left to lift his face out of the
water and to breathe.
He wallowed the're like a waterlogged carcass, face down and dying. Then
he felt Royan's fingers lock into the hair in the back of his head, and
the cold air on his face as she lifted it clear.
'Nicky!' she screamed at him. 'Breathe, 'Nicky, breathe!'
He opened his mouth and let out a spray of water and saliva and stale
air, and then gagged and gasped.
'You're still alive! Oh, thank God. You were down for so long. I thought
you had drowned.'
As he coughed and fought for air and his senses returned, he realized in
a vague way that she must have dropped out of the sting seat and come to
his aid.
'You were under for so long. I could not believe it.' She held his head
up, clinging with her free hand to the niche in the wall. 'You are going
to be all right now. I have got you. just take it easy for a while. It's
going to be all right.' It was amazing how much her voice encouraged
him.
The air tasted good and sweet and he felt his strength slowly returning.
'We have to get you up,' she told him. 'A few minutes more to get
yourself together, and then I will help you into the sling.'
She swam with him across to the dangling sling and signalled to the men
at the top of the cliff to lower it into the water. Then she held the
folds of canvas open so that he could slip his legs into them.
'Are you all right, Nicky?' she demanded anxiously.
'Hang on until you get to the top.' She placed his hands on the side
ropes of the harness. 'Hold tight!'
'Can't leave you down here,' he blurted groggily.
'I'll be fine,' she assured him. 'Just have Aly send the seat down again
for me.'
When he was halfway up he looked down and saw her head bobbing in the
dark waters. She looked very small and lonely, and her face pate and
pathetic.
'Guts!' His voice was so weak and hoarse that he did not recognize it.
'You've got real guts.' But already he was too high for the words to
carry down to her.
