“I’m okay,” she gasped. “Something’s coming.”

“What?”

“I’m not sure. A mangler, maybe.” She reached the shallows and waded hurriedly toward the ledge, her homespun shirt clinging wetly.

“A mangler couldn’t follow you in here,” Jugard said. “It would sink like a stone.”

Coughing, Rachel climbed the handholds to the ledge. She had removed her vest and shoes. Her shirt and pants dripped copiously.

“I’m Rachel,” she told Jugard.

“Jugard,” the shaggy man responded.

“What happened?” Jason asked.

“I freaked out,” she apologized, trying to wring out her shirt. “Not too long after you jumped, something came tearing down the slope. It ignored the road, racing straight at me. It wasn’t a horseman. It kept low enough that all I could really see was the motion.”

“What did you do?” Jason asked.

“I thought about using the orantium. But I didn’t really know what was coming. I knew it was fast and could keep low. I started to worry I might make a bad throw and miss it. Once it got past the bend in the lane and kept heading straight for me, I panicked.”

“Did you bring the orantium?” Jason asked hopefully.

Rachel shook her head. “I was worried it might detonate when I hit the water. So I stashed it, took off my vest, and jumped. I didn’t have time to think it through.”

“Rough swim?” Jason asked.

She laughed shakily. “It almost killed me.” She slapped his chest with the back of her hand. “By the way, I didn’t appreciate you cheating after the coin toss. We need to be able to trust each other.”

“I had your best interest in mind.”

“Whatever followed you is still coming,” Jugard announced.

“How do you know?” Jason asked.

“I know the natural sounds of this place,” Jugard assured him. “I can hear something snorting and gasping, something bestial.”

“I don’t see anything yet,” Jason said.

“You will,” Jugard replied.

Gurgling growls and churning splashes heralded the creature’s arrival to the grotto. Jason, Rachel, and Jugard clustered at the front of the ledge to observe as the animal entered the cavern, struggling toward the shallows from the deeper water across the chamber. The beast seemed inept at swimming, its sizable head bobbing in and out of sight. Jugard twisted a short piece of seaweed and tossed it into the water to better illuminate the approaching creature.

“Boarhound,” Jugard murmured, astonished.

Rachel backed away from the edge as the oversized bulldog reached the shallows and charged, baying wildly, to the base of the ledge, ten feet below Jason and Jugard. The animal began hopping ferociously, coming within a foot or two of the ledge despite its bulky body and stubby legs. Foam lathered its wide jaws.

“Boarhounds are not typically fond of water,” Jugard said. “Do you know this animal?”

“Puggles,” Jason said. “I think I saw this boarhound at a woman’s house a couple of days ago. I heard she was attacked and captured yesterday.”

The dog continued bounding at them tenaciously despite repeated failure. Jugard stared intently. “This animal has been conscripted.”

Jason turned to Jugard. “What does that mean?”

Jugard pinched some of his whiskers and started twirling them. “Conscriptors have been known to turn animals to their own uses.”

“What are conscriptors?” Rachel asked.

Jugard gave her a bemused look. “You must be a Beyonder as well. Conscriptors recruit for Maldor. They are among his most elite soldiers, trained to raise armies from conquered towns or kingdoms. Some specialize in recruiting animals. This dog knew your scent. A conscriptor has transformed it into an assassin, warping it until its only purpose became to track you down and slay you.”

“I jumped off a cliff to escape a dog?” Rachel asked bitterly.

“Take another look at the dog,” Jugard invited. “If it had your scent, you made the right choice.”

“We have a conscriptor trailing us?” Jason asked.

Jugard shrugged his bony shoulders. “Possibly not. That may be why he sent the animal. Out in the open this crazed boarhound could have finished both of you.”

Jason stared down at the snarling canine, impressed by the rippling muscles under the short-haired pelt. The black gaping mouth held vicious teeth.

“What do we do now?” Rachel asked.

For the first time Jugard smiled. “The Hand of Providence accompanies you. This potential threat may represent your salvation.”

“How?” Jason asked.

“Bait.”

“What do you mean?” Rachel asked.

“Macroid is attracted to fresh blood like nothing else. Twice I have cut myself accidentally. Both times the crab rushed to the cleft, reaching madly, beating and snipping at the very stone of the cave. The futility of her efforts did not daunt her. She did not desist for hours after the wound was dressed.”

Jason shuddered.

“Noting the thirst for blood, I tried cutting myself once immediately after a man dashed for the ascender. The crab hesitated, but went for the man. Had I been within her reach, however, I have no doubt the crab would have attacked me first.”

“Macroid is a crab?” Rachel asked.

Jason described the colossal crab in the neighboring cavern, explaining how it currently impeded their way to the top of the cliff. Rachel turned to Jugard. “So you think if we wound the dog, and it chases us into Macroid’s cavern, the crab will attack the dog, leaving us time to escape.”

“That is your best chance. It will require perfect timing. No blood must be drawn until after you are in Macroid’s chamber. Otherwise she will block the cleft, and you will find yourselves trapped between crab and boarhound.”

Jason ran a nervous hand through his damp hair. He looked down at the ferocious dog, saddened by the thought of the crab destroying it. “If Puggles follows too far behind, the crab will mutilate us before the dog enters the room.”

Jugard rubbed his palms together. “She may mutilate you regardless. But good timing should improve your chances.”

“How do we get the timing right?” Rachel wondered.

Jugard turned his back on them, hands on his hips. He grabbed a wooden spear with a sharp stone tip from against the wall. “I will wound the boarhound once you are through the cleft, then turn it loose.”